#they know we waited too long for Golden Cheese so now she's getting even more op/hj

[imaginariumwanderer]

Ahh it really is a toss-up for me, this update tells us Shadow Milk knows more than he let on, like Millennial Tree's prophecy, or the Ultimate Cookie which is something the other researchers are unaware of (Does the cookies of darkness even know? I re-checked the Laboratorium storyline and all they've talked about is making the doughs for the Beasts, with the Perfect Cookie only mentioned once by Matcha Cookie. I could be wrong, of course) But you're so right, we have to take his arrogance into perspective as well!

Either possibility is fine with me. On one hand, I cannot wait for Smilk to get his Soul Jam stolen like the dumbass that he is (endearingly) On the other hand, I think the prospect of the bad guys trying to out-backstab each other nonstop absolutely hilarious

I interpret that part as Shadow Milk already knowing Burning Spice will be the next to awaken, and the writers being cheeky as usual, "ooo I wonder what the next update will be about? *wink wink nudge nudge*" But looking back at the dialogue, UGH it'll be so interesting if that's true. We currently have no idea what the trigger behind the Beast's order of awakening is, maybe it's random, and yet-

What if the order in which the Beasts are unleashed was all part of Shadow Milk's "script"? Like a mocking mirror to Pure Vanilla sending letters to his friends? What's Shadow Milk ultimate goal? Is he capable of *slightly* manipulate his friends for it? And what's the deal with "the Soul Jam whispering many truth"? Does it just feed him information like a 24/7 broadcaster?? So many questions...

All this talk about Shadow Milk pfft- Sorry Wind Archer, it's like the 3rd anniversary again. I'll make fanart for you soon trust

So I finished the latest story...

This is pretty horrifying from a cookie's perspective. One of cookiekind's main forms of happiness is their ability to express their various colorful flavors/personality. I suppose it's the same thing as tripping a living human of their sentient and individuality. Ego death. Leaving behind hollow flesh

We be committing unspeakable crimes against nature with this one✨

We be crumbling our colleagues while slowly losing our mind with this one✨

On another note, "eyecing" make its glorious return. I have no memory of it being used before the Mystic Flour update. Can anyone point out the other times it was used, if there's any?

????!!!!! OMG HIIII

MORE CJ PAWLIKOWSKI VOICE ACTING YES YES YES

Don't do it, don't give me hope...

I know he's the last to be released u don't need to tease me like that

So the other-space here clearly refer to the Dark side of the Moon, right? Is there any other-space I don't know about? Also, I guess this confirmed Shadow Milk is the only one able to do this astral projection thing. On one hand, it increases his chance of appearing a bit more before his own update, on the other hand, we most likely won't see the other Beasts having any talking-role any time soon

The implications here...

So the Beasts may likely have their own voices of their Light just like the Ancients does. And "Soul Jam"... Without an (s), Shadow Milk is specifically referring to his Soul Jam here, I can't believe my headcanon of the Light of Deceit/Knowledge whispering things to him is becoming true

It's a thing unique to Shadow Milk and not the other Beasts too. Interesting how both the voices of the Light of Truth and Deceit operate differently from the other Lights' (referring to the theory that the Light of Truth have never make an actual appearance since all instances of it in-game were all Shadow Milk's disguise)

... Clownage. Whelp! time to integrate that into my daily vocabulary!

Alright, so we got confirmation Smilk is not only aware of Dark Enchantress' plans but he's actively helping her out. Whenever he's oblivious to her other, secret plans (stealing the Beasts' Soul Jams) or he's aware and already have a counter measures to it though, is still up in the air.

My money is on the latter. Shadow Milk have shown time and time again he's way more knowledgeable than he let on. The way Dark Enchantress was depicted in his previous "play" does show us a certain level of... Appreciation(?) but who's to say he actually trusts her? It really does feel like a "I rub your back if you rub mine and then we'll backstab each other" kind of deal. Now I'm curious about the other Beasts' opinions on Dark Enchantress as well.

Where's Dark Enchantress anyways? We haven't seen her make any on-screen appearance in a while. I, um, I missed her a lot actually. I missed the diabolical meema

Laughing at Wind Archer cookie repeatedly telling Smilk to stfu from the moment they've met. He's saying what we've all been thinking

Also laughing at Shadow Milk basically only here to make cryptic riddles and mocks our Wind Archer. He really does have nothing better to do lol

Yeah that's right, FRIENDSHIP will save the day!

For real tho, tons of intriguing implications about the Ultimate Cookie with this one. I gotta mulls over them for awhile...

GUYS NEW SMILK'S SPRITE JUST DROPPED

HE'S ROLLING HIS EYES. HE'S SO DONE I'M DEAD

"In conclusion, this changed nothing!"

Kidding, kidding! I was getting real worried for Wind Archer there despite knowing full-well it's not crk's style to let something happen to a character unless they're a minor villain or an elderly *grinding my teeth trying not to bring up Elder Faerie again oops too late-*

The unexpected yet sweet moment of empathy Wind Archer have toward the Ultimate Cookie combined with the stunning animation toward the end were definitely my favorite part of this little adventure. Although I half-expected for him to have his magical girl transformation like White Lily and Dark Cacao right then and there-

"Beast-Yeast EP 5 coming soon to theaters near you! Remember to stay tuned, mkay? Okie dokie? Pinkie promiseee?"

[paperstorm]

Thank you for the tag @strandnreyes and @thisbuildinghasfeelings ilu!!

Missing Moments are happening, they're just happening slowly and frustratingly 😂 but progress is progress.

-

“You’re bouncing.”

TK looks up from the block of sharp cheddar he’s slicing into bite-sized cubes. Carlos is standing at the entrance to the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest and leaning with his hip against the countertop. There’s a smile on his face, head tilted to one side, radiating in fondness.

“Am I?” TK laughs. There was a time in his life when he would have denied it. He’d resisted the charge of cute as a younger man, wanting to be strong and tough and sexy instead. Carlos assures him that he’s all of those things and adorable, and TK embraces it now.

“Excited or nervous?” Carlos asks, even though he probably already knows the answer to that question.

“They’re gonna love it,” TK says. “Excited.”

Carlos moves in close behind him. His hands cup TK’s hips and his lips press to the nape of TK’s neck. “Me too.”

“Everything was so shitty for such a long time.” TK slices carefully into more of the cheese and nudges the cubes to the side with the tip of the knife. It’s one of their fancier ones, with a golden blade and a rose quartz handle. It’s part of a set of serving pieces TK bought over the summer with the intention of giving them to Carlos for Christmas. He presented Carlos with them last week, instead, since they were broken up over Christmas and TK doesn’t want to wait another year.

“Mhm.”

“Not just with us. I barely saw anyone but Nancy for months. We tried to get together with the others but we all had different schedules so it only worked out one time. Mateo wasn’t being treated well in his new job so he didn’t seem like himself. Marjan was angry at all of us for not fighting harder for the 126. Everything was just …”

“Shitty,” Carlos finishes, and TK nods. “Tonight is going to be great.”

“Do you think we have enough food?”

Carlos laughs softly. He turns TK around and gestures at the multiple trays of appetizers and raw veggies and charcuterie. “I think we have way too much food.”

“You always serve way too much food when people come over,” TK points out.

“True,” Carlos agrees. “It’s how my mom did it. The evening was a failure if everyone didn’t leave stuffed almost beyond their limit and there weren’t so many leftovers she could fret about what to do with them all, as if she wasn’t the one who made that much food in the first place.”

Chuckling, TK rests his head on Carlos’s shoulder and Carlos wraps arms around him sideways and kisses his hair. “She’s a good host. And so are you.”

Tags under the cut!

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @carlos-in-glasses @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @tailoredshirt @goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @mooshkat @liminalmemories21 @sznofthesticks @chaotictarlos @lemonlyman-dotcom @whatsintheboxmh @inkweedandlizards @bonheur-cafe @reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms @freneticfloetry @orchidscript @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @jesuisici33 @tarlosluvr @kiwichaeng @fallout-mars @honeybee-taskforce @vineofroses

[totaldramafan-lauri]

Some strange facts about some random anon like me!

I keep checking everyday those past few months when the update came when I still didn't find your tumbler account so I didn't have any knowledge of what was going on but I didn't stop doing that even though I found your Tumblr account everyday because apparently it became a habit.. checking and refreshing my browser page to see if getting updates was the best thing that happens to me with the chapters .. like chapter 8 I think got released on my birthday so I was very happy that I think I got it as a gift from you even though you didn't knew! So even if you didn't know that fact thank you ^-^!

I keep re-reading the parts where Golden cheese is angry because that was kinda a little attractive!.. You made it so well that I was surprised, just a question.. were you getting possessed when you were writing golden cheese or something because you did her so well lol!

I like her firm and dominating.. I just want to imagine it and I'm already getting sleepy due to the high overlord in my mind XD..

Like reader share some of that light- ahem!.. went overboard there..but what I said was true.. I got attach to golden cheese even with the lack of content when I found your fic :))...

I'm happy and kinda sad about the fic ending now.. like I mean I have been here since chapter 3-4.. even though I think that's not kinda long..I think?.. I basically got attached since that's too long that I will eventually get attached! Even if it's just writing! I waited for it.. I waited even if my time was wasted, I waited and it was worth it.. I was happy!.. I'm happy reader have found golden cheese cookie again at ending 2.. now I don't know where I should find another golden cheese fic again because apparently.. no one write her much since all the attention went to Burnt cheese due to his natural attractive nature with that long hair..

I would eat and gamble all that yummy food that people would write fics about golden cheese because it's the most delicious thing I can have in crk for awhile.. since I recently just join because I was raging at the lag months ago so-..

Take care by the way! I hope this brightens your mood like the other anons!

AAAAAA, h-holy crap! Yeah, this did make me happy! Thank you so much! I was already feeling a lot better about myself today, so you didn't have to do anything to cheer me up, s-so don't worry about that.....I-I was just a bit stuck in my head yesterday....^^;

Y-yeah, it's a shame that she doesn't get a lotta X Reader fics....I checked that tag recently, and the whole thing was me, like ONE other fic, and some older compilation stuff from pre-her release (when most of her characterization was just people speculating cuz we knew so little about her). She deserves so much more! Sh-she's just SUCH a cool character....! B-but sadly, I did see it coming, cuz back during her update, i-it really did immediately seem like Burnt got all the simps....I-it felt like I was in my own corner.....Wh-which is why it's such a pleasant surprise to me that my fic's gotten as much love as it has!

I-I do have ideas for other fics about her, and....i-if I ever do get to those, it'll probably be just for the sake of giving my fellow simps more food, cuz.....th-there's so little of it.....>///////>

A-also, the whole "it felt like you were possessed by the character while you were writing them" is SUUUUUCH a good compliment to give a fic writer, you have no idea....I-I really had so much fun writing her after I got the hang of it, so hearing that I did that good a job makes me feel very.....very good.....Cuz, I DID try to make her as in-character as I could, even if I got a bit indulgent in the last few chapters......X//////D

R-really, thanks so much for sticking with me for so long....( If you're telling the truth that chapter 8 was posted on your birthday, then wow, that's VERY lucky, cuz that was a really important chapter, for....o-obvious reasons, pffff.....) I-it's good to know that I was able to keep someone's interest for this long....Now, if CRK sticks true to their word and we DO see her again in canon soon, the game'll do the work for you while I take a rest from writing for a while! We'll see when that happens tho....So....y-yeah, thank you....!

[night-dark-woods]

wip wednesday

thank u @siyurikspakvariisis for tagging me maybe posting this will make me work on them. my notes app constantly hovering menacingly and threateningly in my open apps has not been sufficient pressure.

not tagging anyone specific bc i just got out of work and my brain is swiss cheese, but if anyone would like to post wips please consider this your excuse.

posting in order of probable finish date:

1. working title God-Queen Euthanasia (thank u jackie for that <3)

Elsie could dance along the route to Mara's throne with her eyes closed, at this point. The Queen has been withdrawn in her throne world for decades now, Elsie her only visitor now that Eris, too, has passed. The remnants of Light in Eris's system and her dabblings with Hive magic had kept her living long beyond a normal Human lifespan, but even those powers have their limits. Now it's just her and Mara, two relics of the Golden Age who've long outlived their purposes.

She clatters up the last sweeping staircase to finally arrive at Mara's throne, out on a platform at the very edge so the Queen can sit with her back to the infinite reaches of stars and stare instead over the ruins of her exquisite ghost town.

She is working on a bouquet, like always, staring sightlessly past Elsie as her hands braid together asphodelia stems and golden thread, a bowl of amethyst crystals waiting on the arm of her throne beside her. As always, Elsie will offer to help refill it after Mara has explained why she has called her here; as always, Mara will refuse, wanting to wander by herself along the shattered pathways and make her lonely pilgrimage to the statues of her Wraths.

other wips under the cut bc nsfw:

2. working title Bitey Jail

"Petra."

"Yes, my lady?" Petra tilts her head back to meet Mara's eyes, which glint with amusement at the frustration clear on Petra's face.

"Don't look at me like that, my Wrath, you know full well why you are here."

Petra drops her eye from Mara's to stare at the evidence of her mistake, a deep purple bruise in the shape of her own jaw on her Queen's thigh. Two pinprick scabs mark the points where her canines had broken skin last night, royal blood trickling metallic and hot into her mouth.

"Yes, my lady," Petra grumbles.

Mara arches an eyebrow at her. "None of that. You will obey promptly and obediently, or you will be in even more trouble than you already are. You will sit here through my meetings. You will be silent. And maybe if you can comport yourself with the restraint and discipline befitting of your station, we can do away with the muzzle, hm?"

Petra wants to whine but knows she's on thin ice already, even though it's actually Sjur's fault she's in this predicament anyway.

3. no fun working title unfortunately just Sjur POV

Sjur finds a particularly dark one in the meat of Petra's pectoral muscle, in the soft dip right before it connects to her shoulder joint, and presses her thumb into it. Petra keens and arches into the pain, and Sjur slowly puts more and more pressure on the bruise until Petra is panting with it, writhing and bucking her hips and trying to roll to her side.

Sjur lets up and watches Petra try to catch her breath, trapped hands opening and closing on instinct to try to grab something to hold onto, legs braced against the bed to push her hips up. Before she fully recovers, Sjur digs her thumb into a different bruise, this one just below her collarbone. Petra swears and whines and tries to close her legs around Sjur's, to pull Sjur's thigh against her cunt, but she doesn't have nearly enough leverage.

Sjur repeats the cycle, following the line of purple bruises methodically across Petra's chest as she gets more and more worked up, her eye less and less focused each time she tries to glare at Sjur. Once Petra has stopped her futile attempts to get her hands back and is lying there shivering, Sjur finally lets go of her wrists and leans down to kiss her as a reward.

[melodythebunny]

the teen heroes stepped forward with caution. Usually stepping into a villains lair was a signal for a battle. One of the rare occasions where they wasn't preparing for anything deadly.

"okay...but what's the favor?" Two brains says crossing his arms. "I'm not

"they're on a important mission. They'll be out of your way, we've worked it out." Wordgirl says knowing her father was still bitter about earlier.

"uh hello again." Hydro greeted. "not sure if you remember us from earlier..." he didn't missed how two brains shrugged. Figured they didn't get off to he best start. "But I'm hydro, this is Fern trap." He gestured over to the Erthian who gave a small nod. She seems to be inspecting his orange tree. "Atomic Steel"

Atomic grunted and didn't say anything. He elected to keep any eye on the villain's lair however to see if he could spot any traps or tricks. Hydro continued introducing his teammates."the girl who's having a hard time staying in one place is the electric blur."

"we just need a place to stay at. We're not sure how long but.."

Hydro had spoken up given that he was the more level headed ones when it came to being diplomatic. He could tell atomic Steele would rather not speak to Dr. Two brains...as atomic did have some harbored negative feelings now knowing the villain also used to be a hero mentor. Hit too close to home. Blur was holding back her squeals. Out of the four, she was easily the most Excitable one. But her energy could easily overwhelm a person at times. Fern was just fern. She was more comfortable being a listener than speaking unless the time really called for it.

He really wanted to protest and kick them out but he caught wordgirl giving him the puppy eyes. Dang it. Although he wouldn't say it, that stare was one of his weaknesses. Ywo Brain's sighed after a moment rubbing his tempted. He made a mental note to chew on a piece of cheese to help calm his nerves some.

"Finnnneeeee. Alright! They can stay for the time being!"

Wordgirl smiled releived her father was allowing the heroes to stay. This was a small victory to hopefully showing these new heroes that not all villains were bad. The mad scientist was about to say something but a flash of yellow made him jump in surprise. The heroine, electric blur was in front of him now.

"So you wrote the famous book 'superheroes and you'!?" She squeaked in excitement. Her golden eyes stared in awe. Dropping her nervousness in favor for seeing the author that wrote her favorite book

"Uh...yea..." He says blinking in surprise. "Wait how do you know that-?" He barely got to say that last part as the speedster shook his hand enthusiastically. She spoke fast he doubted she was taking any breaths. "it's an honor to meet you, sir! Your book was really life changing for me! Can I have an autograph? I have the copy of the book right here!" He blinked and she was holding a pen and book out to him. He was still processing her spew of words.

"Blur, slow down." Fern says. "You're gonna overwhelm him."

"oops...sorry.." the brunette apologized backing down to give her idol some space. She hadn't meant to be pushy or anything. Never in a million years did she think she would get to meet him. Even if the circumstances were a bit tense.

@ninjastormhawkkat

“Help Me! Somebody Save me!” Becky dropped the book she was reading with a thud as her face became a mix of extreme alarm and worry. Normally Becky would have a cool head whenever she heard a cry for help. She would simply transform into Wordgirl and Bob would transform into Captain Huggy Face. She would then take her sidekick and fly towards the person in danger. This was not like other times. She knew the voice of the person crying for help. It was her dad’s voice. The infamous Dr. Two Brains. Becky had her dad get frightened before, especially when cats were around. Her dad did not sound like he had an encounter with a cat. To the young girl, it sounded like her dad had an encounter with a much more frightening being. Bob spoke in his usual monkey chatter, asking the young girl what was wrong. Becky turned to her sidekick. “Dad’s in big trouble. He really needs our help Bob.” Becky exclaimed in an alarmed and urgent tone. Bob’s eyes widened in shock. He then gave the young girl a determined nod, telling her he was ready to help save her dad. Bob leaped onto her shoulder as Becky touched the center of her sweater, ready to transform. “Word Up!” She exclaimed as now Wordgirl and Captain Huggy Face headed off to where Dr. Two Brains was crying for help. Wordgirl landed at the grocery store and gasped at the sight before her. There was a lot more destruction around here than was normal for her dad when he was committing a crime. A mix of goop and cheese splatters decorated the walls and aisles of the grocery store. A few unfortunate citizens appeared to have been caught trapped by either the goop or cheese splatters. “Dr. Two Brains! Where are you?” Wordgirl called out, hoping her dad would answer. She soon heard two voices shouting near the back of the store. One, she recognized as her dad, the other was unfamiliar to her. “WOULD YOU QUIT SHOOTING AT ME! I’M A JESTER! NOT A CLOWN!” The unfamiliar voice shouted. “IT’S THE SAME THING AND NO!” Her dad shouted back. Wordgirl sped towards the shouting and saw a sight that confused her more than frightened her. On one side, Dr. Two Brains was hiding behind a row of shelves, clutching onto a cheese ray and a goop ray. He looked to be fighting for his life. On the other end was a man that neither Wordgirl nor Huggy had seen before. The figure was wearing a jester’s outfit that was similar to what a jester at a Renaissance festival would wear. The guy seemed to be as frightened as her dad was. He was also clearly trying to avoid getting shot at. ‘What the heck is going on here?’ Wordgirl thought to herself. She looked at her sidekick who simply gave a shrug. He was just confused as she was. Wordgirl cleared her throat to get their attention. “Excuse me. Can someone please explain to me what is going on here?” Wordgirl politely asked. Both men looked surprised and relieved to see Wordgirl had shown up, but for different reasons. “Oh thank goodness, a superhero. Please, you have to save me from this maniac!” The jester figure pleaded. “Excuse me! I am the one who needs help here!” Dr. Two Brains exclaimed in an angry and offended tone. He then turned to Wordgirl. “Wordgirl you got to get rid of this nightmarish clown. Take him to a jail far away from here.” The mad scientist pleaded. This time the jester figure looked offended. “I am a jester! Not a clown!” He shouted back. 

"Same thing!" Two brains scoffed

"uhh... actually-" a passerby spoke up, it was the guy who usually couldn't find the police station. "there is a difference..."

"did he steal something....? Or ...?" The jester man shook his head. "No! I was simply standing here!" "Yeah standing there Menacingly!" Two brains says.

Wordgirl sighed. She understood his phobia of clowns the similar like. However she couldn't really do much since this was a public space. "Dr. Two brains..i can't just arrest a person for existing..."

"man...barely ten minutes here and I'm already being Obstrized!"

"are you trying say ostracized?" Wordgirl says. "Though that means to exclude (someone) from a society or group. Or in this case being in this store."

"ohhh...yes! Exactly that! I just want to shop! And this absolute fiend, is trying to cause a ruckus to get me kicked out!" He pointed accusingly at the mouse scientist.

@ninjastormhawkkat

[ragingbookdragon]

She's A Bird! She's A Plane! She's...Spiderwoman?

Justice League x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: IDK where this came from but I was watching ITSV, so...there's that. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“This is your fault,” Barry griped, hacking away at the glowing fauna with the makeshift machete—in reality it was just a really big stick that had a really sharp rock tied to the end. “I told you our trajectory was off and what did you do? You said, ‘I’m Hal Jordan, the greatest pilot in the world. Watch my big head crash us on an alien planet where our central battery gets displaced during the impromptu crash land and thrown miles from our position’.”

“Do you want some cheese with all that whine, Bar?” Hal asked, an unimpressed scowl on his face as he illuminated their footpath. “It’s not my fault the orbital windspeeds were faster than the sensors picked up on. Blame the tech, not me.”

“That sounds like you’re just trying to pass off the blame,” he shot back, swiping down at another vine that wriggled like a dying snake and spat out fluorescent blue liquid on the broken end. “Y’know? Like you do best?”

“Seriously, find a better thing to do than complain, Flash. We’ve got bigger fish to fry than blaming each other.”

“Each other? I didn’t do anything! This was all you!” Barry spun on Hal and glared at him.

They glowered at each other when a clicking sound echoed above them and they both jumped a foot in the air, spinning back-to-back as they looked around in every direction, up and down and side to side.

“What the hell was that?” Hal worried.

“I don’t know,” Barry replied, just as concerned. “It sounded like clacking.”

“That did not sound like a chicken.”

“Clacking, Hal, not clucking.”

“Same thing,” he retorted, lifting his arm in the air, shining a bright green light amongst the glowing red treetops. A bunch of branches, neon red leaves and purple flowers, a darting limb—a darting limb?

Hal shifted the light back, jolting Barry’s shoulder in the process. “What is it?”

“There’s something above us,” he whispered, watching with cautious eyes as something shifted on the main branch of the tree, the outline of a dark head coming out, just enough to catch the edge of their bright gold eye. “It’s watching us.”

The something shifted back into cover, the clacking sounding once more, then the treetop ruffled, dropping red and purple fauna on the two men as it jumped to another tree. Hal tried to follow it, but it was too fast for his eyes; the only thing it left behind though was a string of long white webbing, hanging down from the blue tree branch. And Hal being the idiot he was, decided to touch it to see if he could figure out what it was, and only managed to get it all over his hands.

He pouted, trying to pull apart his hands. “It’s sticky.”

Barry let out a long and heavy sigh, placing one hand at the small of his best friend’s back, the other holding the machete. “Come on, dumb-dumb. Let’s go find that thing again.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of how the survivors live? I know we’re white, but I didn’t think we were that white.” He was half tempted to see if he could gnaw the webbing with his teeth. “This shit isn’t coming off.”

“Here,” Barry said, vibrating his hand as fast as he could and to Hal’s surprise, the webbing cut, falling to the ground.

“Thanks!” he chirped, holding his arm out again to shine his ring. “What do you think that thing was?”

“Alien lifeform.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What gave it away? The alien world?”

“I’ve just about had it with you,” Barry growled, cutting through another rough patch of vines. As the path cleared, they stepped out of the heavily forested area to see one older tree in the center of the circle. It rested atop what looked like an ancient cave, the rocks crumbling around the front.

“I’m not going in there,” Hal immediately stated. “You couldn’t pay me all the money the US owes in debt to go in there. Fuck that.”

“You’re such a big baby,” Barry chuckled, walking up to the entrance; it was about the twelve feet high and ten feet wide, big enough for the two of them to walk in. “Come on. It went in here.”

“Barry, please! Why aren’t you more worried about this?” Hal begged. “You should be more worried!”

“Hal, if it wanted to hurt us, it would’ve done so already.”

“Or maybe it’s luring us to our deaths!” he countered, even though he was following Barry into the cave.

There was more webbing along the walls of the cave, swirling around patterns of purple and blue. The farther they walked the stickier it got, and at one point, they were struggling to lift their feet off the cave floor to take the next step.

“Christ, what is this stuff?” Hal asked and Barry bent down, poking at the webbing.

“It’s like spider webbing, but stickier and stronger.” He vibrated his hand to dislodge it from the strings, then did it around Hal’s feet. “You might wanna float for now. I’ll vibrate my feet to keep from sticking.”

“Good idea,” Hal agreed, lifting a few inches off the ground. “Do you think the lifeform is intelligent?”

“Intelligent us or just intelligent?”

“Intelligent us.”

“Anything’s possible. It seemed sentient so I believe it’s probably intelligent.”

“What do you define as intelligent, Barry?” Hal questioned and the forensic scientist hummed.

“If it’s capable of calculus it’s intelligent.”

“Really? If it can do math homework you think it’s worthy?”

“Calculus is a difficult skill. You need the ability to think and to calculate in order to solve and understand it. That requires sentience and intellige—oh shit!” Barry’s words tipped into a yelp as the ground gave way beneath him and he sunk down, shouting all the way.

Hal’s eyes shot wide, and he flew down the hole. “Barry!” he yelled. “Barry where are—oof!” he collided with more of the webbing, this time enough that the entire left side of his body was stuck to it.

“Hal! You okay!”

He looked over, seeing Barry stuck on his back. “I’m okay? You!”

Barry nodded. “I’ve been better. What is this?” they looked around the best they could. Spiral upon spiral of iridescent webbings surrounded them, stuck to the walls for support, them in the center.

Hal’s eyes narrowed and he glowered at Barry. “I fucking told you it was luring us here.”

“Shut u—”

The clacking sounded above them and with panic, they both turned their eyes to the ceiling, watching as the alien lowered down near them. It looked like a human, two arms and two legs, no extra limbs at all. Hell, it didn’t even look like an alien spider; it just looked like a normal human, gazing down at them with two normal eyes. That was until it opened all six of its golden eyes and stared down at them with it’s mouth open, two one-inch fangs protruding from where the canines were.

“Ohshitohshitohshit,” Hal whispered, about to shit himself in terror.

The alien reached for Barry, and he watched as his friend sunk back into the webbing from the outstretched hand. Except he couldn’t go any farther and turned his head to the side, quietly whimpering as the long black claws touched his cheek.

“Barry!” Hal hissed and blue eyes met his, then,

“Friends!” the alien shouted. “New friends for Rhiezheveir to have!”

Their expressions pinched in confusion as the being started to twirl in the air, one hand holding to the webbing they’d lowered down on, the other elegantly flowing in the air.

“You can understand us?” Barry wondered and they looked down.

“Yes!” leaning down, they got in his face, and he saw the rather feminine looking features. “Rhiezheveir saw the ship come in the sky and land! I waited until you left it to search! The ship’s memory functions in this language!” she seemed rather excited. “Rhiezheveir found the core you were looking for! I did not know how to get you here to return it!”

She climbed up the webbing, disappearing quickly only to reappear with the ship’s core under her free arm. “Here it is! Rhiezheveir brought it back!”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Hal inquired and she lowered down next to his face, hers right in front of his.

“Saying what?”

“Rhieza-something-reservoir?”

“Rhiezheveir?” she offered, and he nodded.

“Yeah, that.”

“Rhiezheveir is my name! I am named after the brightest star in the Kosialaran sky!”

“In the what sky?” Barry asked.

“Kosialaran!” she answered. “This planet’s name! My planet!”

“Are there more of you?” Hal questioned. “You’re the only intelligent life we’ve seen besides bloodthirsty beats trying to eat us.”

“Yes, I saw you fight with the Erqurcus. They are not nice lizards. They like to bite Rhiezheveir when she tries to feed them.”

“Why do you refer to yourself in the third person?” Barry piped up. “Sometimes you use first too.”

“In Aissaveed culture, we commonly refer to ourselves in the third, though I learned from watching, that humans use first. Rhiezheveir is learning to mix them.” She smiled and the clacking sounded again.

Hal tried to look at her. “What is that noise?”

Bending down to his face again, she flashed her fangs. “They click when I get excited!”

Barry cleared his throat. “Um, Rhiezheveir, are there more of your kind in the area?”

“Not here. On the other side of the planet there is. Rhiezheveir has travelled far to get away from her people’s hunters. They do not like me.”

“How come?”

“Rhiezheveir broke tradition. Refused to be royal consort. Fled and hid here.” She let the tips of her toes touch the delicate silk webbing and then crouched, the web bouncing lightly with the weight. “Rhiezheveir is not welcome amongst her people anymore. I am alone now.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Barry murmured, even empathetical of the alien. “You’re here all alone?”

“Yes! Though not anymore!” she patted both Hal and Barry’s thighs. “New friends!”

Hal wiggled. “I hate to break it to you, Reservoir, but—”

“Rhiezheveir,” she corrected, and he sighed.

“Rhiezheveir. But we have to get back to our own planet. We have responsibilities.”

Barry nodded. “We need to get back to our ship.” he tugged against the webbing. “Can you help us get out of this? We’re stuck.”

“Of course!” she chirped, starting to snip the webbing with her claws.

“Wait a second!” Hal exclaimed. “There’s nothing underneath meAHHHHH!” the last thread snapped, and Hal tumbled down the dark and dimly lit cavern.

“Rhiezheveir!” Barry yelled. “What are you doing!”

She held up a finger in a wait motion, then a wet plop sounded, followed by, “NEVERMIND! I’M OKAY! THIS WATER SMELLS FUNNY THOUGH!”

The Speedster sighed. “Oh, there’s water down there.”

She looked at Barry oddly. “Rhiezheveir would not try to kill her new friends. That is not nice.” Snipping the lines around him, she held on as he fell and she let out a squeal as they dropped, though as Barry hit the water, she merely held on to the web in her hand, just above the body.

Barry broke the water and spit out the remaining in his mouth. “Water tastes funny too.”

Hal rolled his eyes. “Rhiezheveir, how do we get out of here?”

She smiled. “Follow me!” she shot out her free hand and another string of webbing left her hand, attaching to the roof of the cavern; letting go with her other hand, she swung like a monkey on a vine, then repeated the process, alternating her hands. And boy she was fast. Barry and Hal had to freehand like they were in the Olympics to keep up, and even then, it wasn’t fast enough.

***

By the time they made it back to the ship, their hair and clothes had dried off. They noticed that she didn’t like to be on the ground and crawled along the tree limbs above them. Bioluminescent flower petals shook from the branches every time she moved, creating an aura of beautiful red and purple around them.

Barry took the battery from her and slot it back into place, watching as they ship powered back to life; he walked over to Hal who was sitting in the first seat. “Everything good?”

Hal nodded. “A few nicks here and there, but the engine and all other vital systems are good.” He looked up. “We should be good to go once the power levels reach operational.”

The Speedster smiled and turned to her. “Well, Rhiezheveir, this is goodbye.”

She merely blinked. “What do you mean goodbye? I am coming with you.”

“There’s not enough room,” Hal said, and she smiled, those fangs clacking as she raised her arms.

“I will make myself small!” her dark body illuminated in a bright gold, then the shape began to shrink and shift, eight long legs appearing out of the main shape that had evolved into two orb like shapes. When the glow dispersed, she raised her front legs and waved, then skittered up Barry’s leg and body to his head.

“I have a spider on my head.” He said dumbly. “I have an alien spider nuzzling my hair.” Barry looked at Hal. “There’s a spider in my hair.”

Hal shrugged. “So long as it stays on you, we’re good.” He peered at her. “Rhiezheveir, can you understand us in there?”

She waved her front legs as Barry climbed into the ship, sitting on his seat; she scurried down his head to his shoulder and sat there, perfectly balanced, her beady golden eyes occasionally blinking.

“That’s a big ass spider,” Hal noted.

“She reminds me of a Goliath birdeater.”

“A what now?”

“Goliath birdeater. It’s the biggest spider on earth.” He examined her. “But her legs are so long…like a huntsman spiders’. I wonder if she’s got the abilities of different species?”

Barry reached up, holding out his hand and she climbed on it, letting him lower her to his lap. “Can you sit there while we take off, Rhiezheveir? Once were out of atmosphere, you can wander around the cockpit.”

All she merely did was raise her front legs and wave them once more before settling on his thighs, curling her legs in contently; he smiled down at her, then the realization of what bringing her meant and he blurted out, “I have no idea how we’re going to explain this to the others.”

“What do you mean?” Hal questioned.

Barry looked at him. “The crash land will be easy—you’re an idiot.” He ignored Hal’s outcry of offense and gestured to her. “How do we explain we picked up a shapeshifting spider…lady?”

Hal shrugged. “Hostile environment navigated by a peaceful intelligent lifeform who managed to be a stowaway?”

“I like the first half up until ‘who’.” Barry met his gaze. “She was threatened by her own people and begged to help her flee?”

The pilot pursed his lips. “We’ll need to use her reasoning for leaving. The whole royal consort business.”

“Sounds good.” Barry glanced down at her. “Rhiezheveir, does that sound—oh…I think she’s asleep.”

Hal looked down to Barry’s lap and sure enough, the hand-sized spider wasn’t moving on his legs other than the occasional leg twitch. “Sure she didn’t die?”

“Hal!” Barry hissed. “Don’t be mean!” he gently scratched her the top of her abdomen with his pointer finger.

“You’ve pack-bonded with a spider,” Hal noted. “Nice job, buddy.”

“Oh, come on. Like you don’t find her friendly.”

“She’s a spider.”

“She’s an alien who turns into a spider.” He watched the planet get smaller and smaller as they exited the orbit and into the stars. “Bruce isn’t going to be happy that we brought an alien back.”

“I think the pressing matter is that we have no idea what she eats.”

“Bugs?”

“You said she was an alien who turns into a spider, Bar. What’s she going to eat when she’s human…like?”

“Meat?” Barry wiggled his fingers in Hal’s side. “Man-flesh.”

Hal choked on a laugh, batting at the hand against his ribs. “Stop that.” He steered the ship through a debrief field with ease. “We’d better figure out or she’ll eat somebody in the middle of a fight.”

“In a fight?” Barry asked.

Hal shot him a look. “We didn’t take this Lady Spider with us just to get her off her home-world. She’s gonna help out somewhere.” He shrugged. “Might as well stick her in the Justice League.”

Barry’s lips pulled satisfactory. “That’s…actually a good idea.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to show her to Bruce. You know he doesn’t like spiders?”

“He’s scared of spiders?”

“I didn’t say he was scared of them, Hal. He just doesn’t like them. I think creepy crawlies make his skin crawl.”

Hal shoved him in the arm. “Don’t call her creepy crawly. She’s a pretty spider.”

“What happened to making fun of her?” Barry smirked. “You pack-bonded with the pretty alien spider lady, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Hal griped, going still when she shifted and crawled up the dash of the ship and stared out the window; she turned, waving her front legs. “Yeah Rhiezheveir? What is it?”

She pointed to the stars, drawing her front legs in downward arcs as if to say, “Wow!”

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Barry murmured and she did it again; he looked curiously at her. “Hey Rhiezheveir, you can understand us, right?”

She waved.

“Okay. Since you can’t talk to us until we get back, how about this—front legs up is ‘yes’ and front legs down is ‘no’. Do you understand?”

She lifted her legs up and he grinned.

“Good. Now, do you like warm places?”

Her legs went up, then down.

“Sort of?”

Up.

“You like warm and cool weather?”

Up.

“We’re going back to our world. There’re many habitats there. Some really hot and really cold. Others are in the middle.” He explained, watching her almost nod. “We’ll be meeting the group Hal and I work with on another ship. You’ll have to stay there for the time being. Is that okay?”

She lifted her legs up.

Hal leaned over. “Rhiezheveir, are you a spider that sometimes turns into a lady?”

Her legs stayed down.

“So, you’re a lady that sometimes turns into a spider?”

Up.

“Nice. Can you fight?”

Up and waving wildly.

Barry looked at Hal then back to her. “You said you refused the position of royal consort. Were you chosen because you could fight?”

Up.

“So, you escaped because you didn’t want to be forced into that position?”

Still up.

Barry nodded solemnly. “Rest assured, Rhiezheveir, you won’t be forced into anything like that on Earth. You’ll be free and able to live openly and not in hiding.”

Her legs stilled in the air, then the curled and Hal muttered, “I think you overwhelmed her emotionally.”

The Speedster cupped the spider in his hands, letting her crawl back into his lap. “Sorry, Rhiezheveir. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She merely snuggled into his lap and stayed there.

“Rhiezheveir,” Hal started. “Your name is really complicated for humans to say. While I think it would be a good identity for a superhero life, I think you should find an easier name for people to use.”

She waved a single leg, signaling she was listening.

“How about (Y/N)?”

Barry smiled. “Ooo, I like (Y/N). That’s a pretty name.”

She raised her front legs and waved them excitedly.

“I think Rhiezheveir likes it too.” He scratched her torso. “Welcome to the Justice League (Y/N). You’re gonna fit in perfectly.”

(Y/N) waved her front legs, rearing up on her back.

“HOLY FUCK LOOK AT THE SIZE OF HER FANGS!” Hal shouted.

[zacksfairest]

Wait. Now I have to ask, what are your thoughts on ACOTAR?

Oh. Ohohohohoho. This is a can of worms that hasn't been opened in a LONG time in a public forum. (It's opened pretty much daily in private with friends lmao)

the short answer? I fucking hate it lmao

The slightly longer answer? I loved the first book. I thought it was a wonderful Beauty and the Beast retelling with colorful, very human characters. It was also one of the first fantasy books I ever read, and definitely the first book I read that dealt with the fae.

I absolutely adored Tamlin and (human) Feyre. Especially human Feyre. She was so very human and her struggle to survive in a foreign land practically designed to kill her, all while Tamlin is trying to break a curse and winds up accidentally catching feelings for real? Beautiful. I also adored the side characters. Lucien was such a good second in command to Tamlin, and a fun companion for Feyre. The world seemed so promising, with all of the courts and their various magics.

And then the second book came out and it went to shit lmao

I despise everything this series is and has become now. The second book found us with characters that were absolutely nothing like the characters we had spent the entirety of the first book with. It was practically a brand new book for a brand new series! SJMess committed character assassination of the most heinous degrees—SPECIFICALLY with Tamlin, the love of my life—all because she got too much of a hard-on for Rhysand and absolutely cannot handle the idea of a character being ~evil~, or at least Not Good, and also the love interest.

So she vilified Tamlin and beat the entire fanbase over the head with outlandish ~abuse~ that was just not even remotely there in the first book, and all while Feyre got to play the pretty victim with the pretty trauma, and Tamlin's trauma from their same shared experiences was depicted as ugly and unworthy of the same help and support that Feyre got.

There is so so SO much more nuance to my hatred for this series, but it would literally take me a 200 page thesis to get into every single detail to break it down.

An added little bit to why I hate the series: it has devolved into absolute smutty garbage with absolutely no substance whatsoever. Every character is barely even a rough outline of the characters they once were. The world is some monstrous amalgamation of High Fantasy and Urban fantasy where the fae walk around in ugg boots and leggings and long sweaters as they go Christmas shopping while also saying things like "My lord." And, not to mention, SJMess' blatant Straight White Feminism and her distaste for people of color, the LGBTQ community, women over the age of 25, and any man who doesn't have cheese grater abs and "golden brown skin."

Oh, and it's a known fact that SJMess doesn't even have an editor anymore. Her publisher knows her books will sell no matter what garbage she shits out, so they don't bother anymore. They just do surface level edits to make sure it's readable (but barely lmao). And it's super apparent.

OH!! A QUICK ADDENDUM!!! She plagiarizes a lot.  I can think of three specific instances off the top of my head that she ripped word for word from other works.  She’s a fucking hack. 

I read ACotaR through ACoFaS, though reading that novella was purely for masochism's sake, and I read the entirety of her Throne of Glass series. I am practically an expert on her shit and how much her shit sucks. And this is coming from someone who truly and completely adored the first ACoTaR and really had such high hopes for the series.

I have a lot of trust issues now with books because of it lmao

[infinityactual]

LORD THIS TURNED OUT WAY LONGER THAN I INTENDED, PLS ENJOY.

Wingman

He could feel her smile, even without the direct connection provided by the armor's interface.

"How long has he been out?" Cortana asked a few seconds later. John was certain she already knew the answer and was just being conversational; sharing Infinity's hardware as she was, he knew she had access to everything Roland did, maybe more.

Definitely more, knowing her.

"Not quite ten hours," he replied quietly.

John was in the Captain's quarters, neck craned as he peered through the doorway into Tom's bedroom. The captain always left the dim amber accent lighting on, which afforded John more than enough light to see that he was still curled up on his side, completely engulfed in the blanket...with the exception of his feet.

"He needed it, and so did you."

John scoffed quietly as he turned back to the living area and the small blue woman standing on the holodisk atop Tom's desk. Her arms were folded, and she was looking at him with one eyebrow raised and an expression to match the affectionate scolding tone of her voice.

A week ago Cortana had 'accidentally' let it slip that John had, in fact, flat-out ignored Lord Hood's orders for R&R. In the wake of the AI's tactical lapse in memory, the Admiral had spent several minutes stewing in silence while John stood stoically at attention and awaited a dressing-down. He found that preferable to the boredom of downtime and the general restlessness and anxiety it always entailed.

But then Cortana had broken the silence with a well-placed comment about how Infinity's Captain was running himself ragged pulling sixteen hour days, either forgetting or refusing to delegate his former duties to his own XO. Spartan Commander Palmer had even found him asleep at the ready room desk, his face stuck to the tablet he'd fallen asleep on while doing paperwork.

A Shame, really...

Forty-six hours later, John was back aboard the Infinity, bereft of armor and orders in hand, the lingering sense of Cortana's smug satisfaction at the success of her machinations in the back of his mind.

"So," the AI unfolded her arms and clasped her hands behind her back. "Plans for today?"

John glanced at the clock; 0947. February the 14th, 2559.

"We already discussed it." John stated plainly.

"True," Cortana said slowly as she rocked forward onto the balls of her feet. "But one last review of the mission objectives never hurt anyone, something you could definitely learn from Fred."

John had to smile at the two-pronged jab, at once teasing Fred for his at times overt caution and planning, as well as John's own 'act now, deal with consequences later' philosophy.

"It's Fred's job to plan and worry." But it's my job to act and lead with confidence, he left unsaid. As he got the tin of coffee out of the cabinet, Cortana cocked her head and once more folded her arms.

"I don't see 'ship-to-ship combat asset' anywhere in your job description."

Before John could reply, he heard a faint rustle from the bedroom and looked over his shoulder. He was somewhat surprised at the intensity of the anxiety that flooded him at the idea of Thomas waking up before he was ready; not that he felt he'd ever be ready for something like this...

After several too-long seconds, John could make out the steady, even breaths that said Tom was asleep again. When he looked back to Cortana, she was smiling with an earnest warmth.

"Well?" She spoke just above a whisper. "Get everything together, and I'll walk you through the recipe." John nodded silently and waited for instructions.

Over the next hour or so, with Cortana's help, John had successfully prepared several helpings of scrambled eggs with cheese and ham (cut into perfect 5mm cubes) as well as a batch of pancakes, one of which was burnt. While he'd been annoyed at the apparent failure, Cortana assured him that burning the first pancake was essential to getting the rest perfectly golden. She was right, of course.

As John prodded at the edge of the last pancake in the sauté pan, he caught the sound of a yawn followed by Tom stretching and froze.

"Coffee! Coffee!" Cortana hissed. He quickly reached over and thumbed the switch, and after a brief moment's muffled hissing as the hot water flowed, the machine began to drip coffee into the pot. He returned to the pancake, carefully lifting the edge to check if it was done and, finding it an even caramel-gold, quickly scooped it up and added it precisely to the top of the stack. The shuffle of bare feet on Infinity's deck sent a bolt of lightning down John's spine and he snapped around to find the captain standing in the doorway. John suddenly felt like he'd been caught sleeping on watch, or wearing wrinkled dress whites.

"Ah, look who's up!" Cortana piped brightly. John nearly jumped out of his skin at the abrupt break in the tension. Thomas blinked.

"C'rtana?" He half-mumbled, obviously still sleep-drunk.

"Well I'm the completely wrong color to be that sassy-brassy thing the UNSC assigned you."

There was a sudden mellow-yet-indignant noise reminiscent of an archaic OS alert over the comms, and John swore he heard Roland mutter something about 'Eiffel Sixty-Five looking floozie'.

"Mmh, right, sorry." John felt his stomach clench as Tom seemed to notice him finally, and he found himself resisting the urge to either snap to attention and apologize or fall through the deck and vanish into slipspace.

"What's...John, did you get breakfast?" He asked as a yawn overtook him.

"No, si-" John bit back the honorific. "No, I cooked."

Tom's eyebrows went up in surprise.

"Really??" John simply nodded. On the holodisk, Cortana made a pleased sound.

"Hm, well, I'll make myself scarce and leave you two lovebirds to yourselves." She winked at Thomas, then vanished in her usual flicker of light.

"Lovebirds, huh," Thomas chuckled as he rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand. "So, what's so special you decided to cook?"

John suddenly felt frozen and vulnerable, and for a beat he stood silently like a Kigyar in a Warthog's headlights.

Just say it. He's seen you at your absolute worst, I doubt that stumbling over your words will make him think less of you. Cortana's earlier words came to mind, and he took a breath.

"Happy St. Valentine's Day."

Thomas met his eyes, and he could see the man blush.

"I...ah...is it?" the captain looked at the clock. "Ah, yeah it is. Would you look at that..."

As Thomas trailed off, John looked down as a weight settled in his gut.

"Give me a sec." Thomas quickly vanished back into the bedroom and John could hear him rifling through drawers and swearing. The seconds seemed to drag by as curiosity began to color the edges of his anxiety, but barely a minute passed before Thomas reappeared with a small box in hand.

"You...made enough coffee for both of us?" he asked as he looked behind John at the coffee pot.

"Yes." His simple reply seemed to be the right answer, as Tom smiled and then held the box out to him.

Everything seemed to be moving slower than normal to John as he reached out and took the box. While Tom looked on expectantly, he pulled the top away to reveal black tissue paper, which in turn covered a smooth metal cylinder with a lid and handle, and the words 'Oly Oly Oxen Free' embossed on it.

Several things seemed to crash through him at once; memories of Reach, thoughts of his fireteam and of the AI that was his best friend, did Tom know the significance of that phrase and if he did...how had he found out?

"I uh, got a set. Of four. Y'know, in case Fred or Kelly or Linda, uh. Drink stuff." Tom was fidgeting as if he was uncertain of his gift, rubbing his thumbs and forefingers against each other in small circles. "Cortana told me about oly oly oxen free, how it's sort of your team's 'all clear' signal and uh, that it means a lot to you guys and I thought it might be a good way to sort of say that all of you have a place here...I mean, of course you have S-Deck, but you also have a place-place...as in you're always welcome in a...family sort of way? Crap I'm not making sense am-"

"Thank you." Thomas looked up at him and his face split into a wide grin.

"You like it, then?" John nodded, then took the oversized mug out of the box and set it next to the one he'd put out for Tom, who was still grinning like a fool.

As they settled in on the couch with breakfast and coffee, John wondered just how long Cortana had planned this. She'd been enabling and encouraging their relationship from the very beginning, when...

"John." The sound of his name pulled him back to the present.

"Mh?" Thomas was smiling at him, but the excitement from earlier had been replaced with a soft fondness, a subtle change in the set of his eyes and in his posture that John couldn't quite define, but that always made him feel almost giddy.

"Happy Valentine's day."

John smiled, and when Thomas leaned in for a hug, the Spartan gently lifted the captain's face and kissed him softly instead.

"I love you, John."

Just say it... Cortana echoed in his mind again.

"I...love you too." Thomas smiled again, then picked up his coffee and sat back.

"So, how are things with Blue Team anyway? You haven't been down to S-Deck much lately."

"My orders are to make sure you take your R&R...and..." John swallowed, and reminded himself that it was ok to admit to his wants. "I'd planned to stay because...I want to." Thomas smiled again and took a sip of his coffee.

"That is absolutely a perfect plan"

"Also if I go back to S-Deck, Kelly will just speculate and make comments about what 'sexcapades' we went on."

"What."

[hookingminor]

invisible string - cale makar

a/n: another old fic rewritten for our fav defenseman sorry the gif I found is so large I could not find any horizontal ones I liked that fit my aesthetic rip

word count: 3.6k

warnings: alcohol, very brief mentions of blood/injury

summary: based on taylor swift’s invisible string

-

You were going to miss this park.

Every Saturday afternoon you come here. Most of the time, you spent your day underneath the large oak tree planted in the center of the park, nose deep in whatever book you were currently reading. This month’s choice was I’ll Give You The Sun. Occasionally, you would do homework or take a nap, but your favorite thing to do was read. This oak tree was your favorite spot in all of Calgary, and you were really going to miss it.

After five years in Calgary, you were finally moving back home to Denver. Your family moved around a lot as your dad was transferred frequently, but your true home was Denver. You hadn’t been back there since you were six, but it was still home.

Calgary was always temporary. You knew eventually you’d pack up and leave, your parents dragging you along with them because you were only sixteen and had no choice, but it got exhausting after a while. You just wanted to stay somewhere.

Even though you knew your time in Calgary was limited, it didn’t stop you from falling in love with the city.

On the Saturdays that you spent tucked away underneath the tree, you always let your mind wander into daydreams of meeting someone there. You dreamed of being swept away in a whirlwind of a romance, and it all started with meeting someone at the park. All your daydreams could probably be tied back to the numerous romances you continuously read or due to the fact you longed for a teenage love, but what could you say? You were a hopeless romantic. Maybe it would be someone walking their dog or an afternoon jogger running into you or a lost tourist asking for directions. Either way, you thought it would be the most romantic meet-cute, under your special tree.

Five years passed, though, and your dreams of meeting someone dwindled until the only reasons you went to the park were purely for peace and quiet. Now, you were spending your last day in Calgary in your favorite spot, soaking up the sunshine as you finished your latest book.

On the last page, five paragraphs from being done, you heard a loud scream.

Your head snapped up, concentration broken as you searched around for the origin of the noise. Lo and behold, off in the distance, you saw the form of a boy rollerblading down the bike trail. There must have been some sticks or rocks on the path because the boy kept shouting as he wailed his arms around, unable to stop.

You watched as he continued stumbling for a few seconds before he careened off the trail and into the grass, tumbling onto the ground before rolling into a nearby tree.

Initially, your jaw dropped in shock, a soft gasp escaping as you covered your mouth with your hand. You waited a few seconds, watching for movement, and then you heard the pained groans coming from the injured boy.

The boy gradually pushed himself up by his hands, and you could see the bloody scrapes on his forearms even from your distance away. He slowly got back up on his feet, limping across the grass as he made his way back to the trail.

Not being able to help yourself, you began laughing at his misfortune. Now that you knew he was okay, the screaming and fall replayed in your mind, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

You thought you were far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to hear you, but you were sadly mistaken. The boy’s head turned to the sound of your laughter, and he followed it until his eyes met yours. You stopped laughing, but the smile on your face refused to fall as you took in his disheveled state.

He watched you try to hide your amused smile to no avail. It only took a few seconds of chuckling while directly staring at him before he returned your smile with one of his own. You saw a flash of teeth and the corner of his lips pulled into a smirk. He gave you one last glance, shaking his head slightly before turning back towards the direction he’d come from. You watched his figure rollerblade back down the path, avoiding the obstructions this time, and disappear from your vision.

The boy rollerbladed to the park the next Saturday. He skated by the same spot where he fell last week and glanced over to the centered oak tree, hoping to see you again, but you were nowhere to be found.

-

Cale couldn’t sleep. It seemed like no matter what he did, he just couldn’t fall asleep. The team had put him in a hotel for a few weeks while they worked on finding him a more permanent residence, but despite the comfort of the hotel bed, he didn’t find the mattress agreeable.

He’d been in Denver for two weeks now and he’d yet to see anything in the city besides the arena. His days were full of hockey practices and meetings, and his evenings were full of extra training at the gym. The latter was his own personal choice; he didn’t want to squander his chance at playing in the NHL and felt that he needed to train a little harder, being new and all.

He tossed and turned in bed for two hours before finally giving up. Sleep obviously wasn’t going to come to him soon, so he might as well kill some time instead.

Pulling out his phone, Cale searched ‘diners near me’ into Google and scrolled through the list of options. He selected the one nearest to him that was also open twenty-four hours, entered the address into maps, threw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and was out of the door within three minutes.

The chilly, brisk walk to the diner took ten minutes from the hotel. Cale hadn’t been in Denver long, but he knew the weather was going to agree with him, if only because he had so much experience with the bitter cold Calgary winters.

A bell dinged above his head as he entered through the front door. Cale glanced around the small diner, noticing a few old truckers at the counter, a young teenage couple near the window, and a girl his age tucked away into a corner booth writing into a notebook.

A middle-aged woman with graying hair approached him at the front, a menu in her hand.

“Just one?” She asked him, noticing his lost puppy look. Cale nodded his head in agreement, following the lady to a secluded booth.

She set down the menu in front of him before pulling out a mug to pour him a cup of coffee.

“New around here?” She asked him as his eyes read the menu slowly.

“Is it that obvious?” He replied with an awkward chuckle.

“We usually have a small group of regulars. Your ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look is a dead giveaway,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.”

The woman walked back behind the counter, serving more coffee to the truckers. He saw one cook in the back kitchen ,but other than those two, no one else was working. Probably because it was a little past two in the morning on a Wednesday.

He took his time reading over the menu; he couldn’t decide if he wanted a breakfast platter or a nice burger with fries. He’d narrowed it down to two options when he saw you shuffle out of the corner booth, backpack slung over your shoulders.

You walked his way, the only path to the front door was past his table. His eyes connected with yours, and you gave him a warm smile.

Pausing next to his booth, he watched you as you leaned over his shoulder.

“If you’ve never been here before, I highly recommend the caramel and cream cheese French toast. It’s not on the menu, but they’ll make it anyway if you ask. Oh, and get tater tots instead of the hashbrowns, they’re a lot better,” you suggested.

You flashed him a bright smile, and Cale’s eyes lit up. It felt like he’d seen that smile before, an old memory from a dream that he couldn’t quite remember. He wanted to say thank you or maybe ask what your name was, but you continued on your way out the door before he got a chance to reply. His gaze stayed fixed on the swinging bell above the entrance long after he’d watched you turn down the corner and fade into the night.

His trance was broken when he heard the voice of the waitress call out to him.

“So, did you decide on something?” She asked, a knowing grin on her lips.

The two choices Cale was torn between suddenly vanished from his mind; he couldn’t even remember what he wanted to order before you said something. Cale bit his lip and thought about it. French toast really wasn’t on his diet. All he could do was hope that the extra hours he spent in the hotel gym would pay off and negate the sugar-filled and fatty calories he was about to consume.

Closing the menu without a second glance, he turned his attention towards the waitress. “Yeah, I’ll have the caramel and cream cheese french toast with tater tots, please.”

-

Cale was riding high. The team had just made it to the Stanley Cup finals, and no one could contain their excitement.

Going against the advice of their coaches, a few of them had decided to go out to celebrate. It was nothing big, just a small dive bar on the edge of the city. They wanted to celebrate their hard work, not get so trashed they’d be completely useless for practice tomorrow. They still had their toughest games ahead of them.

The bar was quiet, only a few local patrons were there besides the team. If anyone knew who they were, no one approached them about it. The night passed quickly, laughter and cheers filling the small space as pints of beer were drained.

“Makar, grab the next round,” his captain ordered, and he was too happy to do so. Cale was the resident golden retriever on the team. Someone would say ‘jump’ and Cale would ask ‘how high?’ but he didn’t feel used. He loved being a part of a team. So, he made his way across the room to the bar and ordered two more pints.

For you, it had been a hell of a week. And not in a good way. You finished your Bachelor’s degree almost two weeks ago, but the stress didn’t end when you turned in your last finals. Work was awful, but you still had another couple months until you began your life as a real career woman. You were stuck there for the rest of the summer, promising your supervisor that you wouldn’t leave during their busiest season just because you’d graduated even though you really wanted to put in your two weeks. It was a mistake to make that promise.

After spending a day running numbers and creating spreadsheets that a ten year old could’ve done, all you wanted right now was a drink: the strongest drink you could think of. Perhaps an entire bottle of whiskey if they’d allow it. Or if you could afford it.

The minute after your shift was over, you were out the door and removing the suffocating blazer before you’d even hit the sidewalk. You began the familiar route to your favorite bar, being that it was close to work, cheap, and almost always empty.

When you entered the small bar, you noticed it was slightly busier than normal. Still relatively quiet, but busier than you were used to. You didn’t let it deter you as you walked directly to the bar.

However, it seemed the universe wasn’t done punishing you because when you were five steps away from the countertop, someone turned around abruptly. A hard body slammed into yours along with half a pint of beer.

“Oh, fuck me!” You exclaimed in distress, throwing your hands up as the beer splashed all over your blouse.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” The culprit said, setting the beers back on the bar behind him. He reached over to grab a handful of napkins and then began patting furiously at your top.

“It’s fine,” you sighed, “Today just really isn’t my day.” You took the napkins from one of his hands to dry yourself off.

You looked up to face the man who’d drenched you with cheap beer, and you were met with a dazzling pair of blue eyes. They looked familiar, as if you’d seen him before but couldn’t remember where.

He caught your stare, his lips quirking into a smile at the sight of you. Cale felt a tug inside him, like the feeling of butterflies, when he saw your face. Waves of coolness washed over him, and he was lost in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I ruined your shirt,” he said in a daze, unable to look away from you. He really hoped it didn’t come off as creepy, but little did he know you felt the same way.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t attached to it anyway,” you said, all your previous anger leaving your body. It was actually one of your nicer tops that would cost way too much money to dry clean now, but you weren’t thinking about that.

“Do I know you?” You both asked at the same time. The coincidence caused you two to burst out laughing, and he swore he’d heard that laugh before.

“How about I buy you a drink to make up for this?” He asked, beaming from ear to ear.

Your eyes twinkled as you nodded your head, and Cale felt his heart burst at your smile.

-

A year passed in a blurry haze. The night out at the bar turned into a two hour conversation with the stranger who’d spilled beer all over you. He apologized profusely the entire night and introduced himself to make up for it. He only ordered you two drinks, but you spent hours together laughing.

You told him about your hellish day and complained about work, and he recalled the wins and upcoming games he had in the next couple weeks. Soon, you were exchanging life stories and you found out he was originally from Calgary. You discussed your hobbies and interests outside of work, the best movies you’ve seen recently, and where in Denver you could find the most authentic Mexican food.

Eventually, it neared one in the morning, and Cale had to get home for practice in the morning. As much as he wanted to stay longer to talk to you, he knew he had to get going before his teammates ratted him out tomorrow.

“Do you mind if I walk you home?” He asked, the drinks between you finished long ago. It sounded a little odd asking a stranger he just met if he could essentially follow her home, but he hoped he didn’t give off stalker vibes.

“I’d like that,” you replied with a smile. It sounded a little odd agreeing to let a stranger you just met have your address, but something tugged at your heartstrings and told you to take the leap.

When he dropped you off outside of your apartment, he had asked for your number. That night turned into a first date and that first date turned into many dates. Cale easily swept you off your feet, and it was even easier to fall in love with him.

After years of dating the wrong guys, of being burned and cheated on and lied to, the world had sent you the perfect man. A man with a soul equivalent to a thousand beaming rays of sunshine all wrapped up in perfect blonde hair and blue eyes and rosy cheeks.

He did everything for you. He sent you flowers randomly, surprised you with your favorite takeout, and took you on the most extravagant dates. You went to his games, house sat his plants when he was on roadtrips, and left him little notes in his suitcases to find when he was away. You knew within two months of dating that he was the one you were going to end up with. Cale was your forever.

There were no awkward phases in your dating life, no uncertainties or questions about what you were as a couple. Cale was as taken with you as you were with him, and you both knew what you wanted out of your relationship. It felt like you knew each other for years, like he’d always been there in the back of your mind, just out of reach and waiting for you to find him.

You didn’t know how much you believed in fate, but it felt like the universe made him specifically for you. He understood you like no one did and you could communicate with him without ever saying a word. If soulmates and other halves did exist, there was no doubt in your mind that Cale was your missing piece.

It was a year after you began dating that Cale invited you back home with him. He wanted you to spend a few weeks over the summer with him and his family in Calgary.

Cale was elated to introduce you to his family. He planned on marrying you one day, and he wanted everyone to meet the woman who’d stolen his heart. Everything about you consumed him: your hair, your eyes, your smile. There wasn’t a single part of you he wasn’t madly in love with and there was nothing about you he’d change. It was a long time coming, you going home with him, and you couldn’t be more excited about it.

He spent the first few days showing you around his favorite childhood hangouts, the rinks he used to skate on and the pizza places he used to frequent with his friends. He showed you his high school, secret hidden spot near a small lake, and the best ice cream shop in all of Calgary.

It was one day when you were walking through the old park you used to read where you shared your favorite spot.

“When I lived here, I used to spend every weekend under that oak tree,” you said randomly, pointing out to the large tree across the grass.

“Really? I used to rollerblade through this park sometimes. One day I completely ate shit on this path,” he chuckled, remembering the painful memory. “I sprained my wrist and arm. Couldn’t play hockey for three weeks.”

“How old were you?” You asked curiously, thinking back to the day you saw a boy fall.

“Sixteen, maybe?” He replied, brows furrowing in thought. You and Cale were the same age.

“This might sound crazy, but I think I saw you fall that day,” you said. Cale turned to look into your eyes.

“Were you the girl laughing at me under the tree?” He asked skeptically. The blush forming on your cheeks and the way you broke eye contact answered the question for you.

“It was you! I always thought it was rude how you didn’t offer to help me,” he said with a hearty laugh.

“To be fair, I was worried when you fell down. But then you got up and seemed okay, so I didn’t bother,” you said defensively.

“Still, you sat there and laughed at me while I bled on the grass,” he teased, slugging your arm lightly.

“Well, it seems that everything turned out okay for you,” you said, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, it did,” he replied wistfully, reaching down to hold your hand with his.

The two of you walked through the rest of the park, but your gaze kept flickering back to the center field where your tree sat, your brain replaying the daydreams you had about meeting your true love underneath that tree. A nostalgic smile spread across your face, and Cale noticed your suddenly cheery mood.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked, a playful grin of his own appearing. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you smile.

“Nothing,” you replied, keeping the tender secret to yourself.

+1

Three years later, Cale took you home with him over the short winter break he got while the All-Star Game happened. You walked through the park together, a tradition that you created ever since that first summer back.

The air was cool and crisp, the skies a beautiful shade of purple and pink against the blue background. He led you over to your favorite tree, pulling you from the usual path you took around the park. In all the times you’ve been to the park with him, you’d never actually taken him to sit under your tree.

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach at the feeling of being in your favorite spot with your favorite person. Your heart rate began to pick up as Cale dropped your hand to stand across from you, giving you a knowing smile.

When he took a step back, you felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes as if your heart knew where this was heading before your brain could process it. Cale lowered himself onto one knee before he pulled out a small velvet box from his coat pocket, opening it to reveal a diamond ring.

The fantasies you created in your mind all those years ago finally came to fruition that snowy day in January. All along you knew that one day you’d meet the love of your life under this tree even if you hadn’t realized it at the time, and you thanked whatever gods existed for the invisible strings that tied you to Cale.

[missinghan]

falling for the first time ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : hogwarts au; fluff

❖ word count : 2,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : your plan of putting all effort into avoiding bang chan as much as possible has been going smoothly for almost seven years until he asks you for a dance at the Yule Ball. or alternatively, your families hate each other but wait...has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

❖ author’s note : here’s the song they’re dancing to 🖤

one.

The once cold ballroom has waited for eons it seems, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it. 

Meanwhile, you too have been waiting (for two-ish hours) in the corner with your cup of root beer abandoned at a table for your dance partner. You’re currently half-clutching your dress and half-panicking because Chan wouldn’t miss an event as extravagant as the Yule Ball. He’s not the type to be sour over little things either just because he didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps someone else just happened to ask him? 

A blood-curdling shriek bursts your eardrums. 

Jeongin gives you a nudge with his elbow from behind. “Grilled scream-cheese?” he asks with a mouthful of gluten and carbs, a plate of a sandwich with a (literally) screaming slice of cheese slapped in the middle. 

“No, my appetite is ruined,” you say, pushing it away slightly and heaving an audible sigh. 

The Ravenclaw boy makes an alarming noise—something similar to ‘uh-oh’ and swallows the big bite from before as fast as he can. “Where’s Chan?”

You only shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” If only you could do that with the train of thoughts that have been going in and out of your ears for the past a hundred and twenty minutes. 

“Y/N, you look troubled,” he purses his lips, frowning at you. 

“I’m not,” you voice in denial, trying your best not to come off as snappy. No, you will not give up your facade that easily. You won’t leave Chan’s ego nor Jeongin to rest without a fight by saying that you actually want to dance with the heathen!

“Yeah right, let me-“

“Don’t. What if he’s already asked someone else?” You momentarily shudder at how sad you sound. The root beer shouldn’t have hit you this hard. “I mean look at him, he’s Bang Chan. I’m pretty sure those girls from Beauxbatons have been eyeing him up and down since the Tournament.” 

Jeongin lets out a huff of laughter in disbelief. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“One of you guys could have asked me. Or I should have paid Jisung to be my partner yesterday. I just, I don’t know, what am I saying? I’m confused.”

Your friend is officially done with your bullshit so he decides for himself that he will now set down his food to make your first and last Yule Ball arguably unforgettable. “Honestly? I can lie and say I would dance with you if you weren’t so full of pride. But truth is, none of us asked you to dance because we all know how badly Chan wants this opportunity. Wake the fuck up! He’s been planning this since forever. I’ll go look for him, wait here,” he points a finger at you before running off, leaving your heartbeat pause awkwardly like a broken record. 

The ballroom feels significantly colder now. 

“Miss Y/N?”

Ah, perfect timing. What’s another way to phrase ‘being an absolute idiot at a ball’? Oh right, it’s ‘talking to your professor five minutes before the first dance while your friends are socializing left and right’. 

“Yes, Headmistress McGonagall?”

Your professor peers around when she realizes that you’re all alone. “Are you and Mister Bang ready?”

“R-ready?” Suddenly, you feel out of place. 

“Well, of course. It’s only traditional that the three champions start the first dance!”

“Oh.”

two. 

Only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy you are. But you’re met with a sky without stars tonight. 

With your head on your elbows, lips pressed into a straight line, your gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the Great Hall to head back to their designated dormitories. A sigh. You definitely don’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. Ryujin used to show you an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. If Chan keeps doing shit like this to you, you’re gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time he comes here. 

If he is going to show up at all that is. 

The moment you peel your eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a broad figure is shuffling himself through his drunk Quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. He dashes through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on his face just to get to you. 

Pulling himself to a halt at the last step, Chan sees you all curled up against the balcony railings and feels a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. You’re pulling your legs toward your chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while your hair falls to your face messily. Like you’ve gone through the depths of the Fourth Dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. All for him. 

You’re beautiful. 

And the amount of affection that’s piling upon his rib cage? Astronomical. 

Your gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, you still flare radiance. He thinks that if a meteor shower is happening right now, you can still outshine it. “You came,” you mention. 

For once, Chan finds himself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” he manages to swallow. Yeah? What the fuck, Chan? Is that all you’ve got to say? 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. Yeji accidentally mistook one of Minho’s potions for her allergy medicine so I gotta take care of that before coming,” he scratches his forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “I didn’t know it would take that long…”

“Oh.” Wow, jealous stinks. This isn’t pre-school, you’d better snap out of it. “Let’s head back. I wanna check on her before passing out.” 

“She’s fine now, sleeps like death. Chaeryeong is there too, you know, just in case.” Chan feels perplexed as he tries to coax anything but the ‘head back’ option from you. 

You tilt your head. “And...?”

“I’m afraid you owe me something?” A slow smile begins to outstretch upon his facial muscles, deepening the dimples on either side of his cheeks that you adore the most. “A dance, I believe,” he makes a thinking face while striding toward you. 

Coldly, you stand up to dust your dress. “I don’t want to.” You’re not having it, he can tell. But does Bang Chan ever give up? 

“A bet is a bet, Y/N.”

Chan’s hand fishes inside the pocket of his trench coat to take out his wand. His hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from his lips. Immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. He does the same action again to cast a different spell. Music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears. 

“It’s just one bet,” he pouts with a hand fully extended toward you. 

You should have realized how good Chan looks tonight. A black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair from running here. He looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud. 

Enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. You seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down your spine. A simple response has become all too complicated for your brain to process. 

You grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “Yeah, a bet so you’ll leave me alone,” you remark sarcastically to ease your nerves. 

“Look, it’s not my fault that the Goblet of Fire chose me to participate in the Tournament,” Chan chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. Dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. He’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart. 

But you soon slap on another scowl when you realize he just reminded you of why you’re even here in the first place. If only you weren’t so salty about Slytherin winning your team over at the final Quidditch match before the holiday occurs. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly in the best mind state after getting your ass kicked in your favorite sport. 

And Chan wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and your ultimate torment. Which results in—if you get to attend the Triwizard Tournament, he will leave you alone for the rest of your life; but if he is the chosen one, he gets a dance with you at the Yule Ball. 

It’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. Dancing with Bang Chan, the Slytherin’s Quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and conduct for six years straight, and now one of the Triwizard Tournament champions this year. 

Music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. You can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. But he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now. 

“Besides, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” Chan asks honestly, and this causes you to perk up. 

“What?”

Lights are twinkling with every step as Chan spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. After that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time. 

“Don’t act dumb, you’re terrible at it. I know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”

Your eyes are cast downward, sadness glinting in your round pupils. “Either way, my parents wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. And look at what we’re doing. It’s going to be catastrophic if they find out.”

“Well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” Chan leans a little closer to lock his eyes with yours. 

And you break it seconds later because you’re an absolute coward for a Gryffindor. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

“Did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” he huffs out in faint annoyance. 

You shake your head. “I don’t think they’d even remember.”

“Then would you stop giving me that look as if I just shooed your owl way every time I said ‘hi’ on my way to class? Have you ever thought about my feelings? About us being civil for once? Like friends? Or even more so?”

“I-“ 

“We’re not our parents, Y/N.”

Your heart becomes all erratic at his words. It’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that you’ve gawked at one too many times, but it makes your heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside your stomach. This can’t be compared to the Yule Ball—it’s even better than that. Because it feels as though you and Chan are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. There’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire. 

It’s perfect. Almost. 

“Us...it’s not- it can’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not possible, Chan.”

Wordlessly, he stops, moves both of your hands to his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your torso. The sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. Time is frozen in place, leaving you to hang on the edge with him, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. You’re waiting for him to do something, say something. 

Just then, Chan cracks a wry smile and pulls you closer by the nape of your neck, resting his forehead comfortably on yours. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

[sw124]

BonelyHearts Reader Insert4

{Female!ReaderXSkeleton household}

Camping! Pt.3

[Warning: I’m gonna be descriptive with the food so please eat something before you read this. No theirs nothing graphic, its just I’m describing the process of cooking some food, sorry if it makes you hungry]

You could’ve sworn that the trip wouldn’t be that long, guess you were wrong. Well never the less it was time to start dinner, before the trip even started you had volunteered to do ‘dinner’ on the camping trip while the others did ‘breakfast’. It was only four in the afternoon but dinner prep was gonna take a little bit plus you had to set up dessert too. If you started now you’d have it done in less then forty minutes, well no time to waist...especially with these boys.

You got out a few pots, two larger ones an one smaller one, one for boiling water, another to make the sauce and lastly the third was to collect the water. It was expensive but you bought two small propane burners, after the camping trip you can gift one out to a friend and keep the other for when you’d make Hotpot dishes for winter.

You filled the first pot with water, bottled water to be exact. Then put that on the first burner, you turned it on and set it to high, you added a touch some olive oil into the water and let it sit. Now on to the sauce, you reached into the cooler and pulled out a two large cartons of heavy whipping cream, a container of grated Parmesan cheese, a stick of butter, garlic paste in a squeeze tube, chopped parsley in a small ziplock and lastly the bag of mixed veggies. Zucchini, asparagus, onions, mushrooms, yellow squash and lastly carrots.

In the pot you threw in the stick of butter and a dollop of garlic paste, you put the pot on the other burner and melted the butter with the garlic, you threw in the veggies when the butter had just melted. You waited till the veggies were cooked throughly, mostly caramelizing the onions and mushrooms. Once that was done you added in the heavy whipping cream an Parmesan an started stirring. After you let that set you checked on the water, it was at a full boil now-

.....

“Boss I thought I told you I was handling dinner, either you go sit by the fire and wait or go for a walk.” You growled.

The one thing you hated was Boss leaning over you while you cooked, he knew you were preparing a pasta dish an by the law that is Boss he has to supervise you...not this time.

“I need to make sure your not going to add anything...unessesary to the dish.” He countered.

You groaned under your breath, you wanted this to be a bit of a surprise but of course that was wishful thinking....you shook your head and continued. Grabbing two boxes of spaghetti you poured them into the pot.

......

You looked up to find that Boss wasn’t alone, all of the skeletons were now crowding around the kitchen tent, intently watching you cook. You wondered if they were hungry and was planning to offer something to tide them over, that thought passed when you saw the remnants of chip crumbs on some of their clothing.

“Can I help you boys?” Your voice going mono.

“We’re just watching, gotta do something to ‘pasta’ time way, ya know?” Said Sans, earning a glare from half of the group.

Ash and Poplar strategical placed themselves near you, Poplar blocking Boss and his...needling gaze. Everyone else was just watching quietly, well Nox made a comment or two about the sauce bubbling but that was ok, he even reminded you about the parsley. It was also nice to have Russ help you strain out the water when the noodles were done.

“Ok, everything is just about ready. You boys get your bowls an I’ll start plating ok?”

The boys did as told, it was kinda cute seeing them all shuffle to get their bowls together. You had your bowl there along with your fork, Red got back first and you first filled his bowl partly with the noodles before ladling on the sauce...well it’s as more of a soup but you called it sauce. You make sure the noodles were half submerged. You repeated this until all ten skeletons had their portion, you filled your bowl next before joining them at the picnic table.

“Ok boys, lets dig in!” You announced.

You didn’t hesitate, you instantly twisted a bundle of spaghetti on to your fork along with some asparagus. It tasted heavenly, the creamy, buttery sauce mixed with the Parmesan was just delightful. You were happy that it turned out so well, you looked up. To your surprise and delight everyone seemed to be enjoying the food, Boss even gave you an approving nod.

“Wowie! I’ve got to tell Undyne about this, she an Alphys would love to try this dish!” Papyrus was beaming as he examined his food, his smile was just so cute.

Nox seemed better off eating in silence, but you couldn’t fake a smile of content like his. Blue was engulfing his noodles, you had to suppress a chuckle when he stared fanning his mouth, of course the food would still be hot. You poked at the carrots you had in your bowl, you were hoping they were cooked right and not too hard. After one bite you were delighted to find it had a little crunch but it was cooked properly.

“Whatcha call this anyway?” Asked Stretch, twirling his fork.

“It’s kinda like Alfredo but with a few stuff added in, it doesn’t really have a name. I just made this dish up one night when I was super hungry and didn’t want to go out in the pouring rain to get food, the only difference is the veggies.” You were slightly embarrassed in telling the story, despite it being true.

“Its still good though, you should invent dishes more often!” Said Blue, shoveling another bite into his mouth.

You smiled, thankful the food was cooked well. Ash and Poplar really seemed to like this dish, you wondered if it was because of the vegetables or the sauce. Either way it was cute seeing him try to get at least one of each veggie on his fork along with the noodles.

Soon everyone had finished eating and cleanup was underway, you noticed how quickly the sun had begun to set. Yep winter was fast approaching, cleanup didn’t take long at all with everyone helping out. Once everything was washed and put away for the evening it was time to bust out dessert. You hurry back to the van where you kept it, pulling out three large bags of marshmallows and a bag of frosted gram-cracker cookies. The top halves were frosted in chocolate, it’d make things a lot simpler.

“Ok boys time for dessert, we’re making s’mores!”

You handed each skeleton a long stick too use, they all were sharing a bewildered expression...had these boys not heard of s’mores?

“Do you guys know what s’mores are?”

“I’m afraid we don’t.” Said Papyrus.

“Oh well its a fun, interactive snack and common camping treat. I’ll show you how its done.”

You began by skewering your marshmallow, you got the large flat ones so it’d be easier for the skeletons to handle. You held your marshmallow over the fire, you loved this part so much, watching your marshmallow turn golden brown or even catch on fire and burn just a tiny bit. Once the marshmallow was done you showed them how to sandwich it between the gram cracker cookie, you told them that normally they’d have a plain gram cracker and a bit of chocolate to do it but you wanted to make it easier and quicker. You even mentioned that to them while you were making your s’more.

“An there you have it, your very own s’more!”

You held it up and showed them, you then took a big bite and just like you expected the marshmallow stretched out...and it tasted amazing. Gooey, sweet and crunchy, the chocolate was melting and it wasn’t dripping on to your fingers.

You watched everyone follow your lead, you also said they can just eat the roasted marshmallow if they wanted or the gram cracker cookie instead. Which was what some of them did, Russ was having fun making the s’mores. Awe he looked like a little kid when he took that first bite, Nox though didn’t seem that impressed and settled for just the cookie. Stretch was pouring some honey on his s’more, Blue was scolding him about it, Poplar and Ash were throughly enjoying making s’mores together.

Papyrus was yelling at Sans again, Sans marshmallow now turned into a comet, Red and Boss settled for the gram cracker and roasted marshmallows. It was cute watching them all experience a traditional treat of camping, you made another s’more and switched to just making roasted marshmallows. Nox was kind enough to get some drinks but just for you and Russ, when questioned by Blue he countered saying he wasn’t everyone’s servant and they all had legs that weren’t broken. An besides he got one for you cause you were a lady and you had prepared dinner, it was only proper.

After having your fill of marshmallows you were about to get up and start the process of cleaning up the dishes. Well that was the plan until you felt Poplar’s hand rest on your shoulder.

“No, no don’t get up. We’ll take care of clean the dishes and everything, you just relax.”

You blinked, surprised. “Are you sure, there’s a lot to clean up-“

Sans stood up. “Rule is if you make dinner then you don’t have to clean up the kitchen.”

“A rule that you don’t seem to follow brother.” Growled Papyrus but smiled. “But he is right human, you shouldn’t shoulder the burden of clean up. The ten of us will have it done in no time!”

“If your sure then alright, the communal wash station is just up the way there; Sans I’m sure you can show them.”

Sans nodded, everyone else got up and started cleaning up the kitchen tent area. Nox was sure that Russ didn’t slack off, Red wasn’t happy about being forced to get up and work but he couldn’t say much with Boss standing over him. You watched all ten skeletons shuffle off over the hill, it was nice of them to do the clean up but at the same time you felt kinda bad since you made a little mess while doing it. Well you knew how to remedy that!

You stood up, walked to the kitchen tent and started preparing mugs of your special coco for them. Coffee was going to be rationed so you felt slightly bad for Nox but it was too late for coffee anyway, you filled each mug carefully and smiled. You took some of the left over marshmallows and put them in the mugs, you had just put the last marshmallow in when the boys came back.

“Hey guys, the coco is ready if you want some.”

You didn’t have to say it twice, the boys were all over that coco. Though Nox wasn’t happy about not getting his coffee but he digressed, he put his marshmallow into Russ’s cup. You smiled an enjoyed your own cup, the rest of the night was spent chatting and playing word games with them. Word games like ‘Going to the picnic’ which was your favorite game cause you could be as sarcastic as you wanted to be.

After finishing the fourth game of ‘going to the picnic’ you checked your watch. It was fifteen minutes to ten, that meant bed time. You wanted to get up early to start the second day of camping.

“Ok boys its getting close to ten lets start getting ready for bed.”

Unlike with most people no one groaned, they all simply agreed that it was getting late and it was time to sleep. First thing you were going to do is take a shower in the communal showers nearby.

“H-Human are you going to take a shower?” Asked Russ.

“Yes, why you gonna get one too?”

You noted a lot of the skeletons looked...concerned, was something wrong with the showers?

“Actually we’re in need of showers as well, let us accompany you if you don’t mind.” Said Boss.

“Oh, well grab your things and follow me ok?”

That wasn’t a problem, you grabbed a bag with your toiletries inside along with your sleeping attire you picked for camping. You were about to leave when you noticed...only Russ and Boss had got their things. Everyone else was busy trying to find their things.

“Shall we go human?” Asked Boss.

“Don’t you want to wait for everyone?”

“They said to go on ahead, they’ll catch up with us.” Said Russ.

You shrugged and headed for the showers with Boss and Russ, you noticed they were walking very close to you...despite you were leading the way with one of the flashlights you brought with. You tried not to think about it, what you wanted was a shower. The hikes today had been sweat inducing and you wanted to freshen up, you walked into the women’s side and found you weren’t alone. Other women were in there from the other campsites.

It was fun chatting with them as you all showered together, one of them was a elderly woman in her mid-sixties enjoying her forty-fifth anniversary with her husband. You gawked at the number, wow forty five years. The other woman with you was a younger lady camping with her fiancée, you had a laugh with the two women comparing them together. The young lady getting married turning into the older married lady with many years of happiness.

You enjoyed chatting with them, once you dried off you walked outside. Boss and Russ were there having showered and changed, you hoped they didn’t wait long. You were escorted back, was it you or were the two of them very vigilant on the way back. You felt like one of the s’mores when they were walking so close to you, your arms were even touching them. Once back another group went to shower, it was weird but...you chalked it up to them being concerned with you walking in the dark. Though you were sure there were no wild animals.

You gave a small yawn and crawled into your tent, you took off your shoes and slipped on some thick socks. Your feet got cold quickly, your pajamas for this camping trip were sweatpants and a light sweater. It was gonna get kinda cold since it was autumn, you turned on your camping lamp before going back outside. You made sure everything was put away and the fire was properly put out with, once that was done you crawled back into your tent. You zipped up the flap in your tent but unzipped the other two sides, most of the skeletons had come back already.

You dimmed your light and took out a book, you weren’t quite sleepy yet so decided a book was nice for a while. You said goodnight to your boys before zipping up the flaps on both sides.

It was only ten minutes later you felt your eyelids getting heavy, you put a bookmark in the book, turned the lamp off and tucked yourself into your sleeping bag.

Lulled to sleep by the sound of nature....and some skeletons snoring.

To be continued..

[For context, I’ve gotten questions on why I had the reader start dinner at four. Where I’m from in the upper Midwest it gets dark very quickly in both Fall and Winter so for that reason why dinner started early, that and in my family we start cooking around 4-4:30 so that everyone can get something done before supper. Examples are making a call, doing a chore, going to deliver something etc. This is dedicated to the @bonelyheartsclub I hope you enjoy this I’m having a lot of fun writing these.]

[moonyswriting]

Surprise

CW: food

Characters by @lumosinlove

I wrote this a while ago, but never uploaded it. Hope you'll like it :)

"No, I wanna go to Narnia. Lemme- I wanna-"

Sirius had a hard time holding back his giggles as he watched his husband roll around in their bed. Leaning over he caressed his hand over the expanse of his sides, drawing soothing lines until Remus stopped moving and talking, going back to his even breathing.

Sirius propped his head over his husbands' sleeping form to be able to see their alarm clock display 11:00. They were never usually able to sleep that long, not because their bodies wouldn't allow it, Remus had proven he could sleep until the evening if no one woke him up, but rather because of their practice being regularly scheduled in the morning.

Now, however they were in the anticipated off season, which meant time to be as cliche of a couple as Sirius could manage. He knew Remus liked it, the fact that the Lions Captain, who put on a stone face mask every time he was on the ice, was able to let go this much and express himself in ways that only Remus got to see.

"Thinking of the devil," Sirius muttered as his husband turned just enough to place a few sleepy kisses to his shoulder, before snuggling into his neck.

Remus pulled himself closer to the taller man, determined to bury his face further into the crook of Sirius' neck than was physically possible. He continued until he got his husband squirming out of his embrace, cranking his neck to the other side so Remus would be able to reach it.

The brunette looked up, slowly blinking his eyes open, a lazy smile on his lips. He would say that was the best part of his day, but he had things planned.

"It tickled," Sirius gave as an explanation, moving back to hold Remus, placing a kiss on his forehead. Then smiled, adding "Good Morning, mon amour."

Remus took a slow, deep breath before leaning over Sirius, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "Good morning, baby."

They both settled back down into the pillows and just stayed there, until Sirius turned to his husband. "You want to get up?"

"No." Remus grumbled back, seemingly half asleep again.

Sirius smirked as he combed through golden curls "I have a surprise for you."

That made Remus peek up. Sirius knew he liked surprises, he didn't quite share the feeling, but loved planning them for him. He especially loved seeing the different reactions of his husband.

First came curiosity and adoration, when Sirius first told him about something he was planning.

Afterwards there was just excitement. Remus seemed to get so much energy through the promise of something unknown. Before a reveal, he could, more often than not, be seen jumping or running around, trying to get rid of the energy.

Then, at the reveal, the first reaction is usually Remus freezing in place, sometimes a hand over his mouth. He seemed so overwhelmed because of whatever Sirius did for him.

The black haired had asked if it wasn't making him uncomfortable, as Sirius himself hated being overwhelmed, but Remus had assured him he loved the feeling in those moments.

The last emotion that Sirius got to see on his husband's face whenever he surprised him was pure love. Everytime he showed the other his surprise it was like Remus couldn't believe he got so lucky.

Sirius felt like it was pretty mutual.

Remus was still looking at him, expectantly and curious.

Sirius sat up and got off the bed, extending an arm to his husband. "Come on. I'll show you."

They climbed out of their bed and Sirius went straight for the kitchen, telling Remus he could just take a nice shower in the meantime, while he was preparing something.

He did and once he was done they both got to brushing their teeth next to each other, fooling around too much to be efficient, but neither seemed to mind.

--

Sirius plans turned out to lead them into a car, the back packed with things Remus wasn't allowed to see. But he presumed everything was going well, since Sirius smiled smugly and that only got Remus more excited for whatever his husband had planned.

He was only a bit confused, when Sirius stopped the car in front of a forest. They both climbed out of the car and Remus was hit by the smell of fresh air and cut wood. The air in Gryffindor wasn't bad at all, but still you could smell the difference in a heartbeat. It was also way quieter than at home, he noticed. There were a few cars driving in some distance, but he could actually hear the birds. Other birds than pigeons that is.

While Remus was still staring at the trees towering over them, he heard something being set down behind him and right after felt arms circling his waist. Sirius placed his head on the others shoulder, kissing his cheek. "It's beautiful, eh?"

"It really is. How did you find this place?" Remus asked, turning around.

Sirius' smile turned into one Remus couldn't quite place until he told him dramatically "I was talking about you, mon coeur."

Remus laughed. He loved that side of Sirius. The one that was able to make a remark so sweet, yet with just enough sarcasm to make it funny.

Placing his hands on Remus cheeks, Sirius leaned down to kiss his nose. Which still managed to make Remus flush. He looked down at the ground. Next to Sirius on were the items he'd hidden in the back of the car. There was a backpack on the left and a picnic basket on the right. "We'll have a picnic?" he asked excitedly.

Sirius nodded, sharing Remus' expression "You like them, non? This seemed like the perfect place."

"Yeah," Remus said dreamy "It's perfect. You're perfect." He leaned up to his toes to kiss Sirius. They broke apart rather quickly though, the black haired walking over to get the backpack and basket.

Before Remus was even able to open his mouth to offer his help, Sirius just took his hand with his unoccupied one. "I'm a professional hockey player. I can handle carrying two things at once, but thank you." Placing a final kiss onto Remus' cheek for now, they wandered off into the forest.

After a few turns Remus wasn't actually sure where they were going anymore but his husband seemed to have a clue as he didn't even blink before making turns. After only a couple of minutes of walking into the forest they arrived at a clearing and Remus stopped right there in his tracks, pulling Sirius into an abrupt halt as well.

"Are you okay?" he asked after Remus proceeded to just letting his gaze dart around the clearing.

He let out a slow breath and held Sirius hand tighter. "Yeah, sorry, this just doesn't seem real."

They stood there for another moment before Remus ran off. He felt like a child, but this looked like it was taken straight from a fairy tale. The sun was shining through the trees, colouring the grass and moss beautiful shades of green. There were little footpaths snaking through the trees, Ivy growing up most of them.

"This is incredible!" still running around, he shouted back to Sirius, who was slowly making his way over to a sunbathe spot.

He heard Sirius laugh. It was perfect. Running over to where his husband had put down a way-too-cliche red and white checked picnic blanket, he just crashed into the other, who had tried to reach over to the basket. Sirius didn't seem to mind being tackled onto the ground by the love of his love, placing a burst of kisses all over his face.

"It's beautiful. Don't worry our wedding day will forever be the best day in my life, but this is up there on the list so far."

Sirius had known Remus would like this, of course, that had been the reason for the surprise. However, what he hadn't expected was for the other to love it this much. Seeing so much joy on Remus' face was probably the best thing to happen all week.

Sirius positively beamed "I'm so glad you like it! Took quite some time to find this place, but definitely worth it."

"Definitely," Remus said as he settled back onto Sirius. They just played there for a bit, until the shorter mans stomach growled.

"Ah, yes, food." Sirius adjusted his position, reaching over to the basket.

His husband sat up, making a nice space in front of them for whatever Sirius had brought. Placing the basketball next to him he pulled out item after item and set it in front of them. Once he was done he was done, he looked over at Remus, who seemed confused, yet impressed.

Sirius just smiled and got to explaining "We have some drinks of course: Water, Tea and Coffee; Then of course food, because I know you're hungry and I'm almost done, just wait another minute:" Remus put his head on Sirius shoulder as he continued explaining, "We've got a fruit salad I actually made -i'm pretty proud of that- then some grilled cheese in there so they stay warm, turkey sandwich, with cranberry sauce of course, some cut up vegetables plus dip and of course chocolate cake provided by Celeste, which is as close to on the diet plan as she could manage without it losing the taste."

"Wow," was the first thing Remus said, looking over all the things laying out in front of them. "Most of this is not even close to on our diet plan, but honestly, I couldn't care less. This is absolutely adorable, baby, thank you." There was that look, the one full of love with nothing else at all to distract from it.

"You like it? It's good, nothing missing?" Sirius asked. He was pretty sure Remus liked it, but he needed to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

Remus turned his head, moving his hands to his husbands cheeks, successfully turning his head to face him. "It's perfect and I love it." He kissed Sirius. "I love you."

[abarbaricyalp]

Hand holding 37

37) not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out

I assumed SamBucky. If not, just let me know!

Reblogging with the AO3 link ASAP so hopefully it'll stay in the tag this time.

i wanna hold your hand

Bucky had been in Delacroix for six months when the invitation rolled in. He flipped the heavy, glossy card over in his fingers, stacked the multiple envelopes and smaller cards and pieces of tissue paper together, and then looked at the fancy golden script again.

Albert James Wilson and Stephanie Marie Pujols cordially invite Captain Samuel Thomas Wilson to celebrate their wedding with them on the Third of August Two-Thousand-and-Twenty-Five.

There was more text--RSVP instructions, food preferences, a location--but Bucky’s eyes kept drifting to the scrawled message at the bottom of the invitation next to a quickly drawn shield.

Please bring Sergeant Barnes as your plus one -❤️ Stephanie-

He just about flung the invitation across the kitchen when he heard the door open. “Will you go get the rest of the groceries out of the truck? It’s about to open up and I don’t want to be dragging shit through the rain,” Sam said as he stumbled through the entryway to the kitchen. “Oh, you saw the card, great. You can remember what day it is. They sent a Save-the-Date ages ago but I totally forgot about it.”

Bucky felt a little hollow in the chest as he listened to Sam carry on like it was nothing that someone Bucky didn’t even know asked for him by name. Asked Sam for him. “Uh, who's Albert?” he finally managed to get out through the heavy lump in his throat.

“He’s one of my cousins. One of the babies. I think he’s, like, twenty-six or something? Maybe a little older. Him and Steph have been dating for ages but they took everything really slow. She went to grad school and they always said they weren’t getting married until they were totally graduated and had jobs. And then, you know, the Blip and all.”

Sam set the bags of groceries down on the oven and started to stack cans below the cupboards they went in, fruits by the baskets on the breakfast bar, drinks on the other side of the fridge.

“Right,” Bucky said and tapped the invitation against his metal hand. “Do you think it’s really a good idea for me to go?”

Sam shot him an unamused look. “Listen, you don’t get to invite yourself to the fun parties on the water and then decide that you don’t want to sit through a long ass wedding. Besides, you’ll like the reception. Lots of dancing.”

“Sure, it’s just… I mean, they don’t know me. This is a serious moment and they’re just asking for a stranger to come sit in the audience and watch them...fucking become one under the eyes of God.”

“You’re so Catholic,” Sam snorted and rolled his eyes. “You’re coming with me. I’ll be bored out of my mind if you don’t. Besides, if you don’t go, who’s gonna be the ugly, old one?”

“I hate you,” Bucky sighed.

“I know. Now go get the groceries before the bread gets soaked.”

Bucky had been promised dancing and food. But, while most of the church had cleared out for a local dancehall for the reception, Bucky found himself standing awkwardly by the altar while approximately four million pictures were snapped of the wedding party. Sam, leaning against a beautiful statue that he probably shouldn’t have been leaning against next to Bucky, was the only thing keeping Bucky from royally losing his entire mind.

He hadn’t been in a church basically since DC all those years ago. Who knew about before then. Occasionally, when he’d been on the run, he’d crept into an empty rectory to snag a few minutes of quiet where he could rest his eyes without feeling like someone was staring at him, waiting for a moment of weakness on his part. And, sure, growing up Catholic had put this indelible mark on his soul that reacted to any church, empty or not. A deep longing and belonging that he’d never been able to fully grapple with.

But empty churches where he just wanted to sleep were not the same level of overwhelming that a church in the midst of celebration was. Now, all that longing and belonging was spilling over his ribs and soaking into the rest of his body, alive and hot and so tangible he felt like he could almost reach inside himself and touch it.

He missed this.

He missed the happiness and the family and the love that he could find in the walls of a church, in the midst of a celebration. He missed being able to feel something bigger than himself.

The bride and groom hadn’t stopped smiling and laughing all afternoon, always good sports about redoing a photo or trying a new pose or bringing new people into the same picture they’d taken a thousand times already. They couldn’t take their eyes off of each other, couldn’t let go of hands or waists or cheeks.

God, Bucky missed it.

“Okay, how about something with all of the couples?” the photographer asked. “Mom, dad, get on in there. Any bridesmaids and groomsmen paired up? Alright, you go there. Sirs? Sirs?”

“Yo, Sam!” Albert called out and Bucky looked up sharply from the jostling of people in love with each other and the moment.

“I’m not here with anyone,” Sam called back.

“You’re holding your date’s hand?” the photographer said, clearly unsure of what was before her own eyes now.

Sam and Bucky both looked down at their interlocked fingers, hands pressed between their thighs, and then jumped apart with muttered apologies.

“Uh. We’re not. We’re not.” What a stupid thing to have to say after everyone had just seen them. “We’re not together,” Bucky finally got out.

Stephanie frowned deeply for the first time all afternoon, a scheming furrow appearing between her eyebrows.

“Alright… Well then, is that everyone? Okay, cheese it up hard…”

The pictures continued.

“Sorry again,” Bucky said a while later while he and Sam stood shoulder to shoulder in the church’s small bathroom, both looking at their own reflections while they washed their hands.

“Nah, it’s fine. I probably just kept shifting closer to you,” Sam said and there was a strain in his voice that Bucky couldn’t quite place. He didn’t think he’d heard it before. Not on Sam.

“Sometimes I kind of tune out what that arm’s feeling,” he said. “There’s- a lot of nerve activity, y’know. I didn’t notice I’d grabbed you.”

“It was the moment,” Sam agreed. “We were watching a bunch of other people hold hands and shit.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. He shook water off of his fingers and then wiped his hands on his slacks. “Can we go eat now?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, nodding quickly. “Let’s get outta here. I’m sure other people are waiting.”

The dancehall was dim, lit up only with white string lights draped over the rafters and around the tables and columns. It smelt heavenly, a mix of well cooked food and an open bar and desserts that Bucky couldn’t even name. Sam grabbed Bucky’s wrist--this time he felt it--and pulled him through the crowds lingering at the dance floor’s edge. He gave as short answers as was possible to stay polite until they got to the food.

Sarah was waiting for them.

“What took you two so long?” she asked. “I’ve had to fend off a dozen people looking for Captain America.”

“You will not believe what happened to us at the church,” Sam said, loading up a plate with more food than Bucky felt comfortable taking. It was fine because Sam was making Bucky a plate too and they were pretty similar in portion size.

“Oh, yes I will,” Sarah said. “Stephanie told me all about it.”

“What? How did she beat us here? We got in our car first.”

“Why did you two lie to that poor photographer?” Sarah asked.

Bucky looked up with a meringue half in his mouth. “We didn’t? She made the assumption herself.”

“You said you weren’t together,” Sarah clarified. “Why are you playing coy with me?”

“We’re not together,” Sam insisted for the second time that day. Bucky ignored the cinch of his heart and grabbed a brownie to add to Sam’s precarious stack of food.

Sarah brought two fingers up to the bridge of her nose. “Samuel Thomas,” she said and Sam squawked out an indignant sound.

“Don’t say my name like that. You sound just like mom.”

“You’re lucky it’s me and not mom listening to you lie to yourself.”

Sam was about to argue with her, Bucky could tell, when the plate in his hand suddenly tipped. Bucky’s hand shot out to steady it, fingers sliding over Sam’s to hold it still, wait for the food to stop moving before adjusting their hands under it to continue carrying it.

Sarah shot them a very pointed look. “Cass and AJ are holding our table down and Mrs. Reynolds has already said she wants at least two dances from you,” she said to Sam.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said, just a little sarcastically. “Come on, Buck. And grab an extra roll. AJ’s gonna take all the good desserts if we don’t distract him.”

Sam did far more dancing than Bucky did. Just about all night, he had someone on his arm, cutting in, or pulling him back to the floor. Between everyone at their table, they cleared the plates Sam had made but Bucky didn’t think Sam had had half of what he wanted. He made sure to collect another plate when he was sure everyone had had a chance to eat and kept it safe at his side, even with AJ curled up in his lap, snoozing against his metal shoulder soundly. True, most kids couldn’t eat while they were asleep but after watching him put away way more carbs and sugar than Bucky thought should be possible, he wasn’t putting anything past the kid.

When Sam managed to drag himself away from all of his fans for the sixth time that night, and when he shot Bucky a curious but pleased glance between AJ and his shoulder, Bucky just said, “Sugar crash,” and pushed the plate of food over to Sam with the arm not currently holding AJ in place.

Possibly, AJ got his appetite from his uncle if the way Sam dug in was anything to go by. “Jesus, man, breathe,” Bucky laughed and passed over the bottle of beer he’d been nursing most of the last hour.

“Thanks. I forgot how much a full night of dancing takes out of you. Not as young as I used to be, y’know,” Sam said and took a long pull from Bucky’s drink.

“You literally moved a boulder off a road yesterday,” Bucky pointed out.

“I only had to do that once and I had the jetpack. I’ll tell you, my feet wish I had the wings about now,” Sam answered. He put away a roll and one of the sweets Bucky didn’t know before finally sitting back a little, forearms rested on the tables. He’d discarded his jacket after the fourth or so dance and at some point he’d rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. That, plus the brown suspenders over his light blue shirt had him looking like a hundred old memories in Bucky’s mind.

“AJ and I filmed you a few times,” Bucky said to distract himself from the sweat cooling on Sam’s forearms. He brought his phone out and left it on the table as it played a video. Sam leaned forward and then laughed.

“Oh, you liked that one, huh?” he asked.

“Nah, that was AJ’s choice. I liked this one,” he said, swiping to the previous video.

“Of course, something more lindy-hop,” Sam said with a nod. “That lady called me every single day after mom died, y’know. She always said it was ‘cause she missed her already and our voices were similar, but I think she was worried about me.”

“Who was this one?” Bucky asked, flipping through a few more clips.

“Oh, shit,” Sam laughed. “I can’t believe you recorded that. We went to the prom together junior year. Her dad hated me. He’d probably hate that this video exists.”

“Captain America couldn’t even clear the bad blood?” Bucky joked.

“Hell no. Prom night, he busted into the living room after the dance thinking he was gonna catch us in some act but we were just watching movies. It was never like that with us, but you couldn't convince him.”

Bucky flipped to another video. “Her son joined up with me but ended up dropping out and going Navy instead. - She was my first boss. - I played baseball with that guy and he came out a few months after we graduated. - I dated her daughter very briefly. - That’s the daughter and the little one is her daughter. - That’s my favorite teacher’s son. He just wanted to say hi from his mom.”

“Hey, what are you looking at?” AJ asked groggily suddenly. He leaned over the table, small hand coming to rest where, once again, Sam and Bucky’s had drifted together on the other side of the phone. This time they couldn’t jump apart.

“Uncle Sam, Uncle Bucky danced with my teacher and she said he had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen,” Cass shouted as he came bounding back to the table with Sarah in tow behind him. Bucky had seen her dance with a handsome man for three dances in a row so if she cut any new knowing looks at where their hands were being held hostage, he had some retaliation this time.

Bucky finally let Sam drag him out to the middle of the dancefloor just as things were beginning to wind down. Many guests had already left for the evening, catering had cleared out the food, though Sam and AJ really did their part in making sure there was no bread left for them to clean, and the band had packed up and left a local DJ to close out the night.

This time, Bucky was more than aware of his hand sliding into Sam’s, his metal hand settling against Sam’s shoulder, thumb brushing over the strap of his suspenders. Sam’s other hand was warm and welcome against his hip. Bucky couldn’t help but step closer to him as they swayed to the slow song.

“You were really good with all the kids all night,” Sam said. “I saw them dogpile you earlier.”

“Kids like me,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Entertaining them was my job at weddings back when too. All those nights of dancing and I never got to show off at family functions,” he joked.

“You showed off plenty. I think it’s gonna be you Mrs. Reynolds asks for next time someone gets married. Hell, maybe she’ll be marrying you.”

Bucky laughed and shook his head. “Hey, she’s got spirit. I think if we’d gone a few more dances, she might’ve found one I didn’t know.”

“Well, it was a jazz band. Can’t blame you for not keeping up when you didn’t grow up with good music.”

“We had jazz,” Bucky said with a roll of his eyes. “It was nice, getting to see more of your life.”

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, it was nice stepping back in time a little bit, getting to see how everyone’s grown up.”

“You’re so loved here. Not Captain America. Sam Wilson. People adore you.”

Sam ducked his head shyly and Bucky reached up to catch a knuckle under his chin. The music had stopped and their feet must’ve realized it before their brains because they weren’t dancing anymore either.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Sammy,” someone called from across the room. Bucky recognized the groom’s voice. “You haven’t let go of his hand all night. Just kiss him already.”

Sam and Bucky both looked down at their tangled fingers and let out a little laugh. “Well, if it’s what your fans want…” Bucky suggested.

“Shut up, man,” Sam laughed and leaned forward to kiss him.

[maybe-your-left]

I know you’re not doing requests now but I want to send this just in case! Or maybe you can save it! But I love your writing and you’re hilarious! Would you please please write something with Gucci skiing with us with some wipeouts and humor and then soothing each other’s sore muscles afterwards? Or Dr Ren if you prefer! Either hottie! 🖤🖤🖤

anon... why not both?

MAURIZIO GUCCI

“I’m so excited to go skiing,” you mumbled through a mouthful of crackers. You and the rest of your group were sitting around the Resort lounge. Sharing a nice cheese board, red wine, and chatting about the lovely weather. It had been so long since you’d been on a trip with them, it was nice to get out of the city and escape to the Italian country.

You were sipping on your wine, briefly tearing your gaze from the evening snowfall. There were some families littered around, lovers smiling at one another, sharing kisses between whispers of passion. However, one table stuck out to you. A man, all alone, sipping on some whiskey. Some glasses and slicked hair, the dim light showing off his distinctive features. You were captivated, wanting to walk over and speak to him, get to know who he was, where he came from.

Another slow sip, you glanced away, chiming in with you raunchy joke. Basking in the laughter of your friends, you turned back towards the man. Stunned when he met your gaze. Unblinking, unwavering, just sipping his drink, you noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Instead a diamond encrusted gold ring decorated his pinkie, bigger than any jewelry you adorned.

You mirrored him, taking a sip of your own, he set his glass down. And from across the room, he smirked at you. Followed by a nod of acknowledgment, making your cheeks instantly flush from embarrassment.

Your friends finished quickly after, leaving you to abandon the stranger. Who was now nursing a second drink, staring at the snowy landscape. Perpetually alone, your heart ached at the sight, but you couldn’t go over. What would you say?

You replayed him handsome smile over and over in your head while laying down. Memorizing the lines of his face, the crinkle of his eyes, how they seemed to focus on just you out of anyone else.

———

Everyone got up and out the door bright and early, preparing with some spiked coffee before heading to the hills. You were buzzing with excitement, partially for the skiing but there was a chance to see him again.

Slim, but still a chance.

“Hey,” your friend snapped in your face, “You okay? You look a little out of it.”

“Oh no,” you sighed, focusing on moving over with your group. Smiling at the sweet kids learning to ski on the bunny hill, a few of them being helped by their parents. You briefly noticed a familiar head of hair as you ascended the mountain.

At the summit, all your friends gave a quick goodbye and placed a bet who would crash first. You knew you’d be fine, it wasn’t the first time on the slopes for you. To your left, someone approached you, the only reason you knew was because of the bright red suit.

A woman, covered in designer branded accessories, scowling down the mountain. You smiled at her, fixing your own fur hat, “I love your suit.”

She turned to you, cocking a brow in suspicion, eyes flashing down your figure. And then she set off, you scrunched your face in displeasure. She seemed fun.

Letting gravity do the work, you headed down, trying to bask in the scenery instead of race like everyone else.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

You turned to the right, stalled on the mountain was the man from last night. A white snow suit that fit him far too snug, you were surprised it even fit. From this close you could really take in his appearance, he wasn’t this enormous from afar.

“What?” you questioned.

He nodded towards the tree line, “The mountain, isn’t it lovely?”

“Oh,” you blushed, “Yes, it’s gorgeous. It’s been so long since I’ve visited.”

“Hm,” he looked down at you, a small smirk gracing his full lips, “Why not come more?”

“It’s so expensive,” you sighed, “It’s not a luxury I can afford all the time.”

“You deserve every luxury the world offers, sweet dove.”

You gaped, briefly turning to see if he was still talking to you. He chuckled a little, holding his poles in one hand and out stretching his right.

“Maurizio,” he smiled, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss...?”

You whispered your name, out stretching your hand which he immediately took. Enveloping in his size, he stroked his thumb over your knuckles, bringing them to his lips. Gazing at you lustfully, “A beautiful name, for a beautiful little dove.”

You whimpered at the feel of his lips, wishing for a moment they were on your own. Or trailing over your body, roaming and tasting every inch of you. “Are you here alone?”

“No, I’m with some friends.”

He nodded, “If you’re able to get away, here’s a card to my room. I’d love to see you more.”

He tucked the card into the breast pocket of your suit, another chaste kiss to your hand and he left.

———

After spilling to your friends about the handsome stranger they BEGGED you to go see him. Just to see what would happen... so here you were standing before his room. Dressed in a white turtleneck, and some tight pants. Cheeks and nose still rosy from the wind earlier.

A light knock, no answer.

You tried again.

Still nothing.

You fiddled with the card in your hand, debating if you should head back. But... he gave you a card, you could just go in and wait.

The light flashed green, and you were inside. Lavishly decorated, a large fireplace, king bed, windows overlooking the night snowfall. You poked around, seeing no sign of Maurizio... or any luggage for that matter. It almost seemed like no one was staying here.

“Dove?”

You spun on your heel, seeing him peek through the door. His concerned look dropping once he spied you, “You came.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, “This is your room?”

He shrugged, “One of them.”

“What?”

Maurizio didn’t give you an answer, instead pouncing on you. His rough hands caressing your cheeks as he kissed you, at first you were confused. Wanting him to move, but he pressed on, a hand sliding down your back to wrap around your waist.

“I’ve been thinking about your lips since last night, so plush and pink,” he whispered, “How beautiful you were next to the fires.”

“Mhm,” you tried to speak, but he kept your lips locked. Tongue slithering into your mouth, coaxing yours to dance with his. You moaned at his taste, warm and rich, hints of whiskey hitting your palate.

Maurizio walked you back into the bed, knees giving out as you fell. Finally getting full breaths of air, panting as he devoured your form. He leaned over you, both hands planted by your torsos. A piece of his well kept hair falling over his forehead, “As beautiful you look in this,” he tugged on your sweater, “I would love it even more if it was on the floor.”

You melted, giving a soft nod. He slid a hand under your shirt, gasping when he touched your skin. Gripping your waistline, moving slowly up towards your bra. He leaned into you, pressing soft kisses to your cheek and jaw. Fingering the black lace, one finger slipping under the hem.

“So soft, little dove.”

As fast as he was touching you, he ripped his hand away just as quick. Standing before you, he pulled his sweater off. Tearing his glasses off with it, he fumbled with his belt, nodding at you to follow his lead.

You threw your clothes off like they were on fire, whining when he helped tug your pants off. Hooking his fingers into your lace underwear, groaning when he saw your cunt.

“Up,” he rasped, pulling off his briefs, palming his cock to kneel on the mattress. You were mesmerized by it, standing proud and tall. Long with a short hook towards his belly button. Brown hair trailing down towards the base, “So beautiful, are you soft there too?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, spreading your legs out for him to explore you. Laying back on the silk pillows, you gasped when his hand cupped your sex. Running a finger through your lips. You felt the golden ring he wore skim your inner thigh, causing a shiver to shoot through your spine.

“We must be quick, dove,” he mumbled, “As much as I want to savor you.”

You looked at him confused while he lined his cock up with your entrance, his eyes flashed from your lips to your eyes.

“I’m married.”

“What?”

He pushed inside you, stretching you wide with his length. Maurizio groaned, “So tight, I knew you’d feel amazing.”

He hitched one of your legs to his shoulder, sinking in even deeper. You felt him deep inside you, almost in your stomach, digging your claws into his bare shoulders.

“Will you scream for me, little dove? So I have something to remember when I sleep tonight?”

———

Dr. Kylo Ren

ALSO-ITS CANON KYLO DOESNT SKI HE SNOWBOARDS. ALSO ALSO ANON THIS ONE IS FUNNY BC ITS THE REN FAM ON VACATION.

———

“Mom! Did you pack my laptop charger?”

“Yes princess,” you called from the kitchen, packing some snacks for the plane. Odin was running around the living room, it would be his first time flying overseas. So you wanted him to tire himself out before you made it to the airport. Ren walked out of the bedroom, hanging up the phone, “Is everyone ready?”

You nodded up the stairs, Ren scowled, “Belle! If you aren’t down here in 5 minutes I’m taking your phone away!”

“Dad, I’m still packing!”

“Would you rather I came up there and dragged you down?”

A loud groan, and there came your daughter. No makeup, hair in a bun, still in some pajamas since your flight was at 6AM. Matching her fathers scowl, she walked over to you. Laying her head on your shoulder, “Mommm, Dads being mean.”

“I’m right here, Belle.”

“Okay,” you threw your hands up, “I guess Odin and I are going to Italy! You two morons can stay here and fight.”

———

The flight was delayed, leaving you and your family to nap in the uncomfortable chairs of the boarding area. Ren was snoring loudly, Odin was laying uncomfortably on your lap, leaving Belle who was draped on her fathers shoulder.

Thank goodness you woke up, pushing your exhausted family on the plane. It was a larger plane, giving you and Ren more space and the kids sat in front of you.

No luggage was lost, no one forgot their passport (thanks to you), and Ren even remembered to add international to your phones.

You all piled into the car, Ren demanded a Jeep from the rental company. Making it glaringly obvious you were Americans, exactly like the one you had in the garage at home. Boards on the roof, bags in the truck, both children fed and buckled, Ren only yelled at Belle once because she tried to sit up front.

The drive was beautiful, when Ren wasn’t driving like a maniac. You had to remind him several times your children were in the car. “Okay, so, when we get to the resort. You and Odin have a room together. Its connected to me and your fathers.”

Belle rolled her eyes, “Why do I have to share with Odin?”

“Because it’s either that or you sleep on our floor.”

You chuckled, Ren smiled at you, placing a palm on your thigh. This trip was more than a family vacation, it was something he’d been promising since your marriage. And he told you last night he wanted to fuck you against the window, so all the skiers could see your tits pressed against the glass. While he came all over you, so the kids weren’t allowed in the bedroom.

“Ew,” Belle gagged, “Dad stop feeling up mom, it’s gross.”

“I’m going to do more than that, so stay in your fucking room. Unless you want to see us fuc-“

You slammed a palm over his mouth, but the damage was done, Belle screamed. Yelling ‘gross oh my god oh my god you guys are old!’.

———

You all had a nice dinner in the lodge, drinking red wine and delicious food. You even let Belle have a few sips, she wasn’t a fan of Rens old fashioned. Turning green at the taste.

After kissing the kids goodnight, you locked the door connecting the two. Turning to see your husband, completely naked on a leather armchair. Stroking his cock as you padded over to him.

“Hi handsome,” you placed a hand on each thigh, feeling the muscles tense as he picked up the pace. Fist smacking his skin, precut already drooling from the tip.

“Sit on my cock, love,” he growled, “Need to feel your tight cunt.”

Soon you were bouncing on his lap, grinding down on his glorious length. Punching the air from your lungs as he pounded from below. Ren needed you to be quiet, stuffing your thing into your mouth.

You clenched around him, “There’s my good little slut, Daddy missed your pussy.” He tightened his grip around your waist, “Gonna fill you with cum, then I’m gonna fuck you on the bed. Stuff my fingers in your ass.”

You whined, “Oh, you like that don’t you? You want Daddy to fill you up?”

Ren mouthed at your neck, slamming into you completely. You spit out the garment, burying your fingers in his dark mane. “Daddy, fuck me on the bed. I need it, please.”

He groaned, swiftly standing up with you still on his cock. Throwing you on the bed, he grasped your cheeks, “You better keep your whore mouth shut, or you’ll get nothing.”

You nodded, rolling onto your hands and knees. Presenting yourself for him, Ren climbed behind you. Spitting between your cheeks, “Lube?”

“Bag, side pocket.”

“Finger yourself.”

Ren flew off the bed, searching for the lube, you gladly followed his instructions. Pinching your clit a few times before sinking in two fingers. Whining at the feeling, they weren’t big enough, couldn’t reach where Rens could. Didn’t stuff you as full as his cock could.

“I said finger,” he growled, “Not tease.”

He landed a firm spank on your cheek, lurching you forward on the bed. “Get back here,” Ren yanked on your hips, pushing a hand on your back to force your arch. You whimpered when the cool liquid slid between you. A finger curling down to your clit, wet circles over and over.

Ren tore it away, planting his left hand to the mattress. Draping over you, you could hear the slick sound of him living his cock. Wagging your ass in anticipation, “Tell Daddy what you want.”

He prodded your pucker with his middle finger, sinking it in. Its accepted the intrusion with ease, aching for more. Ren slipped in another, fucking you open with twists of his wrist. His lips lavishing your cheek and lower back.

“Fuck my ass Daddy”

———

Belle had her snowboard, along with her father, Odin was taking ski lessons, and you were there to watch him.

Everyone was safe and happy.

Ren decided to stay with Odin for a moment, so you could head up with your daughter. Giving you a big kiss that was not G-rated, even going so far as squeezing your ass and growling, “I’m tearing this off you when we get back to the room.”

You and Belle settled on the lift, she was smirking at you. “What’s up baby?”

“Nothing.”

She looked out at the landscape, “How’d you sleep?”

You shrugged, “I slept great, it’s a nice bed.”

“I’m sure.”

You squinted at her.

Belle looked back at you, “How’s your ass feeling? After your Daddy fucked it?”

———

i know this just got sent to me and i should focus on other asks BUT i was in a gucci mood and didn’t proof read bc i’m on my phone driving to oregon 😋

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[gay-ghosts-committing-crimes]

But the Way That You Act Isn’t Good for Your Health

AO3 link here

Summary: Once upon a time, Alex's parents were cool. They cared deeply about him and his friends. Once upon a time, Alex hadn’t come out yet. OR Five times Alex’s parents were there for him and his friends, and the one time they weren’t.

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing, mention of conversion therapy

Words: 3,899

taglist, just ask to be added or removed: @barrel-of-cat-mituna @completekeefitztrash @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @lemontarto @hershis-kotlc @genesiscaveat @everything-else-and-mars @juline-dizznee @chaotic-basics @an-absolute-travesty @classyfunnyquotesmuffin7 @iamstealingyourgenderaswespeak @itstiger720 @introvertedscarecrow @sunset-telepath @an-idiot-in-a-trenchcoat @cowboypossume @anaccidentwaitingtohappen @sofia-not-sophie @fire-sapphics @dr-alan-grant-blog-blog @real-smooth @juline-dizznee @it-tastes-like-lizard​

1. 

Alex's stomach twisted and his fingers twisted into the hem of his shirt, tugging and pulling at it like it was a lifeline. The yelling outside continued. Beside him Luke patted his arm, his nine year-old face screwed up in concern for his friend. On his other side sat Reggie, leaning close and fidgeting with Alex's free hand. He was solemn too, but in a different way than Luke, closer to Alex's anxious tap-dancing heart.

Alex's chin jerked up as his dad opened the driver's seat door and stepped in, and he subconsciously tightened his grip on Reggie's hand.

"What's going on?" He asked, when his mom finally got in as well. It was supposed to be a fun outing for the boys; The day was warm and the beach was open, and the three nine year-old boys were tired of being cooped up inside. He stopped twisting at his shirt and his fingers moved to tapping at his leg when his parents shared a look. 

Reggie pressed closer to his side, and Luke did his best to put his arm around them both.

"I've got you," He said gravely, his soft voice offset by the slight whistle caused by the gap left behind where a top tooth had once lived.

Alex's parents finished their silent conversation and Mary, Alex's mom, turned to face them.

"Sometimes people get angry and don't act well, but that doesn't mean it's right, okay? That man out there is one of those people right now, so you boys and I are going to stay in the car for a little bit while Mr. Mercer gets out and makes sure the man doesn't hurt that young lady, that sound good?"

Alex nodded and his breathing evened a little bit. The yelling was scary, but he knew his dad could handle it, his dad was the strongest man in the whole world.

Reaching across the console, Mr. Mercer gave Mrs. Mercer's hand a light squeeze.

"I'll be alright, Mary." Alex's mom gave a soft smile and nodded, but the crinkle in her brow stayed in its place.

"I know Paul, I love you." A quick kiss was pressed to her knuckles and then he was out of the car, the door closed behind him.

The three boys waited with bated breath as the shouting paused, started up again and then stopped abruptly. There was a low discussion, and even through the car Alex could tell the words were angry. He took Reggie's small hands in his own -he knew how his friend got when people yelled- and rubbed it with his thumb. Reggie gave him an appreciative smile, and Alex smiled back, glad that the action had helped calm them both down. A man rushed past the front of the car, pausing a moment to aim a kick at it before running off, swearing profusely. The three boys jolted and Mary's hand flew to her mouth with a gasp, but he didn't come back and they relaxed a fraction.

After another minute, Mr. Mercer returned to the car, slipping into the driver's seat silently and sitting there for a long moment. Finally he moved, putting the car in reverse and getting ready to pull out, then stopped abruptly. He turned to the backseat, studying the boys' faces.

"Boys?"

"Yes, Mr. Mercer?" they responded in unison.

"Always respect women. Treat them decent and keep them safe, okay? And the same goes for you, if someone isn't treating you right, get out of there, you deserve to be safe." The boys shared wide-eyed glances as Mr. Mercer started pulling out again, but they nodded anyway.

It took a long time for the boys to start talking again, but eventually the silence was broken by Luke, who elbowed Alex in the ribs.

"I think your dad is a superhero, 'Lex."

Alex thought of the girl his dad had protected, her face shiny with tears when he had managed to twist around in his seat to look, shiny but relieved, and he agreed. His dad was a superhero.

~~

2.

"Hey 'Lex? Is it... Is it okay if I come over to your house for a sleepover? Bobby can't and Luke-" Alex was already asking his mom before Reggie even finished his stumbling words, his voice tinny through the Mercer family's Nokia, knowing after a few years of friendship that his voice only wobbled on days where it was too much for him to be alone.

(Alone with two people. Two people who never stopped fighting for long except to criticize the kid that did everything to make them happy. Everything except be enough, apparently. Alex sometimes wished it was okay to want people to go to hell, but Reggie didn't want that, and his mom said that was bad... Still, Alex was Not a Fan of the Peters’ parents.)

And if Bobby wasn't available...

Bobby had shown up about a year prior, and Reggie had immediately decided that he was going to be a part of their friend-group. To Bobby's credit, he seemed to be fond of Reggie, and that was a quick in to the group in Luke and Alex's book. After a while, Bobby grew to be the one Reggie went to when he needed someone, but couldn't handle being around everybody. He'd go over to Bobby's and all of the other boy's gruffness would melt at the sight of him, and Bobby would make it okay.

Bobby was Reggie’s go-to, but Reggie was coming to him, so Alex needed to be there for Reggie.

"Mom?" He waited patiently as she finished putting the casserole she had been preparing in the oven, her blonde hair shimmering and haloed in the evening light coming in through the kitchen windows, and he was reminded of the art of Mary, Jesus’ mother, and how a golden halo had adorned her head too. His mom brushed her hands off and peeked in the oven one last time before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and turning to face him, eyes smiling.

“What’s up, bug?”

“Can Reggie come over?” And then her eyes were softening even more, and for a moment Alex wondered if Mary was as kind as his mom. His mom who always made sure to give Reggie an extra hug, to praise Luke on his singing, and to press a kiss to Bobby’s head and laugh when he twisted away and pretended that he hated it, even though a smile tugged at his lips. His mom who always knew just how to cheer his friends up. Alex thought about it for a minute more and then decided no, his mom was the kindest and prettiest out of all the moms, even Jesus’.

“Of course he can, I’ll even make my special macaroni and cheese!” Alex’s mom gave a small grin and ushered Alex back out of the kitchen. “Now scooch! I’ve got to finish the casserole.”

He giggled and let Reggie know that he could stay, that it was gonna be okay, that Reggie could probably even bring over the guitar he was starting to learn how to play, and they could jam together. 

He glanced back at his mom, her hair still gold in the light, and grinned at her soft, tired, and slightly sad smile. She blew a kiss and tucked a strand of gold behind her ear, and then Alex was away again, cheering his friend up over the phone while he gathered some stuff for their sleepover.

~~

3.

Alex heaved a sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face; He had a terrible headache, and the way practice was going? He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the band did too.

“Okay Luke, I get we want this perfect, but it’s hot and I have a headache, is there any way we could take a quick breather?” 

Luke, surprisingly, just gave a loose nod and flopped onto their couch, face in a weak scowl, more brought on by frustration at the music than any anger towards Alex. It had been a rough week at home for him, and in his mind their struggle with this song was probably one more confirmation that his mom was right, that his music was only dragging him and his friends down.

It tore Alex apart, to see Luke like that, so he slumped onto the space beside Luke, elbowing him slightly before relaxing into the cushion, making sure to “annoyingly” slouch against Luke. The couch was big enough for all four of them to squeeze together, and had taken three of them to carry it into the Mercer’s garage the day they had found it at some estate sale the summer before, and now it was a regular occurrence to find the boys gathered together, bodies tangled together haphazardly on the worn piece of furniture.

Soon, Bobby joined in, grumbling about how sweaty Luke was, but taking the time to ruffle his hair before settling in, patting the spot beside him for Reggie to take. Luke swatted at Bobby’s hand and rolled his eyes as he half-heartedly tried to shove Alex away, inevitably giving in to the crushing affection of his friends and sighing heavily.

They sat that way for a stretch, silence strung between them like unlit Christmas lights; Noticeable, and somehow liminal, waiting for something to flick them on. The thick air felt like an inverted weighted blanket, just as heavy but the direct opposite of comfortable, and Alex lazily found himself wondering if they should add Christmas lights to the garage.

“Alright, enough of the moping guys, we’ll get this!!” And then Luke was hopping up off the couch, so what if it was clear that the pep in his voice was fake? He turned back to the boys and swung his arms wide, “We just gotta take a short break and come back and whip this song.”

His smile was achingly wide (and painfully put-on) but Alex found himself smiling back. Luke might be a hardheaded dumbass sometimes, but they were still friends, and Alex wanted Luke to see that he wasn’t the failure he thought he was.

“Sure, because we were the ones moping,” Alex rolled his eyes and heaved himself up, tugging Reggie up behind him, and headed to the door, yelling back over his shoulder- 

“Last one into my parent’s kitchen gets the armchair!”

The rest of the boys launched after him, knowing the stakes of being forced to sit alone on the Mercer’s uncomfortable armchair versus being able to crowd together on their couch was more important than whatever claims of friendship came before. Bobby attempted to shove Luke behind him, only managing to allow Reggie to get a head start, and scuffled at the doorway, Luke pulling at his shirt and biting at his hand.

“No fair man, I was already farther away!!”

Alex only laughed, throwing open the door to his house and making a break for the couch as the other boys tumbled in after him.

“Hey mom!” He called out, “The boys are trying to kill m-” He was interrupted by a decorative pillow to the face and a crow of laughter from Luke as Reggie gave Bobby a high-five.

“Oh hi boys, I didn’t know you’d be coming in today! Reggie, it’s so nice to see you again, how’s your sister?” Mary Mercer walked in smiling from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. 

“And Luke!! I haven’t seen you in weeks besides creeping into our garage to play that marvelous music of yours. When do you plan on giving us a concert? I expect a friends and family discount of course,” She winked and gave a small chuckle.

“Paul and I have loved hearing you boys practice, and you’ve developed so much just this summer! Of course, I’ve always loved your music, but lyrically? Why, you’ve become a genius when it comes to lyrics. We’re so proud of you.”

She squeezed Bobby’s shoulder and gave him a fond smile before heading back to the kitchen.

“I made some sugar cookies and lemonade; I’d planned to bring it out to you boys, but since you’re inside now… Well, might as well enjoy the air conditioning.”

Luke, who had practically bloomed like a flower previously wilting, followed her into the kitchen, his smile now genuine and brighter than the sun itself, and the rest of the band followed.

~

“Say Mrs. Mercer, do you think we really could do a concert?”

The boys had sat down at the kitchen table, quickly downing most of the cookies, and Luke had taken the pause in eating to probe what Mrs. Mercer had said earlier. She stilled from where she stood at the sink and hesitated before turning to look at the boys with a gentle smile.

“Of course I do, Luke. Mr. Mercer and I have always admired your talents, and all of you boys are amazing musicians. I would love to see you build your skills even more, and I’m certain other people would adore your music.”

Alex watched as Luke grinned and tucked into another cookie, warmth filling his chest.

And later, when his mom pulled him aside and asked if Luke was doing alright, he pulled her into a tight hug and replied, “I’m pretty sure he’s doing a lot better, thanks to you.”

~~

4.

Alex wasn’t sure what to think when his chest started tightening and his breathing became erratic and painful. Maybe he was dying. Maybe he had a terrible hidden sickness and now something had triggered it and, oh God maybe he was dying.

He was dying and he didn’t tell his mom that he loved her that morning, and Luke didn’t know that he was one of the most incredible songwriters Alex had ever known. He couldn’t breathe and Reggie didn’t know that he meant the world to Alex, and Bobby didn’t know just how fucking much Alex cared and how much he loved it when Bobby gave him one of his rare hugs.

Because now Alex was dying and he couldn’t breathe and everything was foggy and maybe he was sobbing but his chest was so tight that he couldn’t see how he could breathe in enough to cry, let alone sob. And this was it, wasn’t it? Alex was dying alone and it was so fucking stupid because how did he go from writing his essay for English homework to this? To this sobbing panicked mess, rocking on the floor?

He was fucking dying and it was on his kitchen floor. And he was freezing and sweating and God, his stomach hurt too and maybe he wasn’t dying, maybe Alex was just going to lay there and be tortured.  Nope, he was going to die, and holy fuck he wasn’t ready for heaven. His heart was going a mile a minute, and of course this was going to be how he died and-

His death was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder and Alex tried jerking away but he couldn’t move. He could only shake and suck in for breath as the hand carefully pulled him into a sitting position and a low voice started pushing through the fog in his brain.

“Alex? Alex, bud… breathe with me, okay? It’ll be okay.”

But how could he fucking breathe? How could Alex breathe when it felt like his heart was going to explode at any second, his lungs captured in a vice, when his mind couldn’t hold onto a single thought for more than a second-

“Alex, you gotta work with me kid, you just gotta breathe, okay? Breathe in for as long as you can, and then hold that breath. You got it ‘Lex, c’mon, breathe with me. Alright, slow breath out now- you got it-”

And then the hand was his father, and the voice telling him to breathe was his dad, telling him he loved him and that it was okay, that Alex was okay.

Alex kept breathing, and his dad kept holding his hand, and telling him he could do it, that he was proud. Eventually Alex’s heart rate slowed, and while he felt nauseous and exhausted, he could breathe now.

It was okay, he was okay.

“Dad?”

“Yeah ‘Lex?”

“I… Thank you.”

“Always kiddo. And Alex?” Alex looked up at his dad and gave a weak hum. “If you have another panic attack, tell me? You don’t need to be going through that alone.”

Alex nodded and sagged back into his father’s waiting arms.

He was okay.

~~

5.

“Alex! C’mere really quick, I need your help with something!”

Alex looked up from where he sat cross-legged on the floor of his room at the sound of his dad’s voice. He sighed and pushed himself up, ruffling Bobby’s hair on his way out. The band had been brainstorming which songs to perform at their next gig, not that it was going to be very big, but Alex figured that Luke and Reggie were more of the brains of that particular operation, so he set off without a complaint.

Bobby swatted at his hand and rolled onto his back, closing his eyes and leaving Reggie and Luke to be the only one’s actually going through their songs.

“Yeah dad?” Alex leaned over the staircase railing, eyeing the way his father sat hunched over at the table, a scratch piece of paper in front of him, and a pencil tucked behind his ear. Paul Mercer was a tall man with piercing blue eyes, soft brown hair, and a wry smile. Alex liked to think he took after him, aside for the blondness of his own hair.

“Ah, Alex. Can you come over here? I’m making a list.”

Alex raised an eyebrow at that.

“O….kay?” He hopped off the last step and pulled up a chair beside his dad, taking a closer glance at the paper.

Extra blankets

Extra pillows

(extra clothes??)

Pool money for mini fridge

Add loft

“Dad, what’s all this for?”

His father scrubbed a hand over his face, pulling his hand down to rest his chin on his palm.

“I’ve been thinking, well, your mother and I have been, and… your friends…”

“Yeah?” Alex’s voice was sharp, but his dad was acting weird, and he was protective of the boys.

“They don’t have the best home life, so your mom and I were thinking about making the garage more your space. The couch is already in there, so we figured, if you boys wanted, to give it fully to the band. Blankets and pillows for when one of them needs to stay over, a fridge, which, granted, you boys would need to pay for part of it, some odds and ends you boys might need. What do you think?”

Alex turned his eyes up to his father’s and worked his jaw, his throat tight.

“Dad… That’d be great, yeah.”

His dad’s face broke into a relieved smile, and he clapped Alex on the back.

“Alright, well then. You can go back up, but if you think of anything to add, I’m drawing blanks for anything else.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks dad.”

When Alex walked back into his room a few minutes later, Luke and Bobby in an arm-wrestling competition on his bed, Reggie egging them on, he rolled his eyes and smiled.

He was grateful that his parents cared as much for these dumbasses as he did.

“Alright boys, break it up!” He sat on the bed with them, giving a yelp when Bobby launched at him and put him in a headlock before rubbing his knuckles on his head.

He smiled.

~~

+1.

“Supper’s ready!” Mary Mercer called from the dining room, and Alex took a shaky breath and rubbed his sweaty palms on the front of his shirt before walking into the room and sitting at the table.

His dad wandered in next, pressing a kiss to his mom’s forehead, and settling hard into the chair across from Alex.

“Ah! Chicken pot pie! Delicious.”

Alex gave a half-hearted nod of agreement, his stomach churning as he eyed the food in front of him. This was usually one of his favourite meals.

“Well, shall we say grace?” The family of three held hands, Mr. Mercer saying a short blessing while Alex sent up his own frantic plea.

Just let them accept me, God, please.

“-Amen.”

Mrs. Mercer began serving the food and Alex waited anxiously until all of their plates were full to interject.

“Hey mom, dad?” His stomach twisted harder, and he felt his face already heating up. His parents waited expectantly, his mom smiling encouragingly and his father giving a nod. He could do this.

“I’ve been thinking about this, and… I’ve been really struggling with it. It’s been this way as long as I remember, it’s not a big thing it’s just- I’m gay.”

There. It was out.

Alex’s shoulders were hunched, and his eyes tightly closed. A piece of silverware clattered on a plate, a gasp. Good sign or bad sign? Good sign or-

An awkward throat-clearing. 

“Son.” His dad’s voice was low and oh shit, Alex had misjudged this and his dad wasn’t happy and-

He opened his eyes.

Fuck.

His father’s eyes were full of anger, and his mother… Alex’s mom sat in shock, her hand covering her mouth, the tablecloth in front of her a mess of food, her abandoned fork lying prone and vulnerable. Alex found himself relating to it.

“Alexander…” his mom tried, pausing a moment before giving a small unbelieving scoff. “Surely you’re joking. You know our family isn’t like that.”

“And!” Mr. Mercer added, “It’s not funny either.”

Alex’s stomach dropped even further.

“No, dad- mom- I’m actually gay. That’s just part of who I am! I’m still Alex, I just. Can���t make myself like girls.” And he should have stopped. He should have stopped before he even said anything, but he was anxious and why weren’t his parents saying it was okay? Why weren’t they saying they still loved him? And-

“I… like boys instead.”

If words could be knives then they could also be nails, and Alex had just successfully finished the construction of his very own coffin.

A chair slid across the floor, and then his father was pointing angrily and telling him to “get to his fucking room” but Mr. Mercer didn’t yell, and he didn’t swear. Mr. Mercer helped Alex through panic attacks over school, and told him stories about the ocean, and Mr. Mercer never, ever swore.

Except Alex was stumbling, shell-shocked and heartbroken, up the stairs and to his room, and his dad was turning back to his mom and saying “How the hell did we raise him to be a homosexual?” and Alex’s eyes were filling with tears, his chest was tightening up, and he couldn’t breathe.

He shut the door behind him, leaning against it and sliding to the ground as his breathing became even more ragged. Alex wasn’t okay and his parents weren’t okay with him, and as he felt another panic attack coming over him, he used the breathing exercises that the very same man who was now talking about kicking him out, had taught him.

Alex fell asleep to the sound of raised voices.

He woke up to a conversion therapy camp’s pamphlet being shoved under his door.

[platypanthewriter]

The Devil Looks After His Own (Ch.1)

Little Steve Harrington is so lonely he tries summoning a demon with a ritual advertised on TV--but luckily, it doesn't work, and a buff, non-human nanny hired by his mom shows up minutes later.  Years later, they're best friends, and Steve still doesn't know the truth.  For @magniloquent-raven​!

When his dad finally locked him out of the office, Steve spent the morning sitting in the hallway playing with his Legos.  When his stomach growled, he knocked quietly, and his dad’s voice on the phone continued, so he went in the kitchen to forage.  He found Cheez-its, and olives, and a tightly wrapped triangle of gooey cheese that tasted good in the middle, but had gross, chalky skin, so he licked the middle out and stuffed the rest down the side of the garbage. 

He walked back into the front room and flipped the TV on, just to make some noise.  “In the future,” came the syrupy voice of the man on the screen, “—we’ll have robots to be our helper-friends!”  He chuckled to himself, leaning back in his leather chair, and folding his arms on his huge wooden desk.  “But that doesn’t work for us now, I hear you say.”  

The camera zoomed out, and he waved to a woman with curly hair and long fangs, sitting on the edge of his desk.  She was wearing way less clothes than the man was, and Steve frowned, wondering whether she was cold.  “Our summoning spells are assembled by real lawyers, and airtight!” the man said, and the woman nodded, smiling, and holding up a picture with a lot of numbers and lines.  Steve squinted at it guiltily—he’d seen the man’s ads before, and he mostly remembered the picture, probably.  

The helper-friend lady looked nice, he thought.  

“Too good to be true?  We even include offerings!  Bat eyes, tears of the innocent—” he said, smiling and holding up jars, as ‘ethically sourced from internment facilities’ scrolled across the screen.

Steve frowned around, and then grabbed his LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, the most complex set he owned.

“Honey,” the man told the woman on screen, and she opened a can of soda, and poured it over her own head, still smiling.  “Perfectly compliant,” he said.  “And just wait, there’s more!  Any purchase comes with a matching, complimentary summoning sigil for a protective home guardian!  Just drip a drop of fluid—” he winked at the camera, and it showed something red splashing across the page, as his voice suddenly screamed “Augh-no!  Don’t—”

Steve had already grabbed the remote and hit the fifteen-second replay, and began drawing out the picture.  He hit it again and again, coloring in different colors, and wishing people in commercials didn’t always yell.  He drew the circle carefully with a piece of thread from the long fringe on a throw-blanket he wasn’t allowed to mess up, then folded it carefully again, grimacing.  He colored in the crosses with a different color so it looked nicer, and drew the little castle wall-looking-bit.  He added a horse.  

When it came time to drip fluid on it, he clicked the TV off, and got a juice box from the fridge, figuring apple juice was way less gross than blood, and it wouldn’t ruin his picture.  

Steve stared at the picture, holding the juice box, and thinking.  He imagined not eating alone.  He imagined the nice lady smiling at his Legos—maybe she’d like the castle set, he thought, like in her picture.  He’d just summon her for a little, he thought—just a few minutes, enough to make them both a PB&J.    

His stomach growled—again—and he frowned at his dad’s office door, sighed, plonked the Camaro in the middle of the picture, and squeezed the juice box to spray over it all.  

Nothing happened.  Steve stared at the picture for a long moment, his eyes welling up with tears, and then kicked the couch.  It felt like his foot broke from the impact, and he spun around in a circle, muttering a lot of words he wasn’t allowed to say in the house.  He hopped into the kitchen, sniffling, and got out the peanut butter, jam, and a spoon—but instead of getting the bread, he sat on the floor in front of the sink.  

He felt a sinking sensation of guilt as he stuck the spoon right into first the jam, and then the peanut butter, sticking the whole spoonful straight in his mouth and licking it off.  Once he’d licked the spoon, he stuck it back in the jar, his heart pounding.  The peanut butter was crunchy and salty, and the strawberry jam was stickily sweet.  He wondered whether his mom would check the bread and know, and cried harder as he chewed, hugging his knees.

The floor in the front room creaked, and he startled so hard the spoon jabbed hard between his upper molars.  He scrambled to his feet, fumbling the lids back on the jam and the peanut butter and shoving them under the sink, his heart thudding in his chest, but nobody came in.  

The couch squeaked softly, and Steve edged to the doorway, the big spoon hanging forgotten from his mouth, to see a tall man with horns and no clothes at all lying across the couch, right up against the forbidden throw blanket.  He raised his eyebrows—they had shiny jewelry in them—and breathed out smoke, indoors, as he looked up at Steve.

He then yelped and scrambled to fall with a thud over the back of the couch.  “The fff—what are you doing here, kid,” came his voice, from behind the couch.  “Where the—where on earth are your parents?!”

“Unhm,” said Steve, who hadn’t ever seen a man wear so much jewelry before, and wondered how much it hurt to have jewelry in your dick.  He took the spoon out of his mouth.  “Uh.  Dad—dad is—in there,” he pointed vaguely toward his dad’s office, his eyes still fixed on the horns sticking up past the back of the couch.  “Do...do you want me to...get him?”  

The naked man popped up behind the couch again, looking kind of mad, and Steve stepped further back, watching the golden chains and jewels glint in the light from the window.  “...you look very pretty,” Steve said politely, and the man groaned, grabbing the blanket as he stood, and wrapping it around his waist like a towel.

“Why the—why are you here,” he hissed, and Steve swallowed.

“I’ll go in my room,” he tried to say, but it came out kind of a weird whisper, and he realized he was starting to cry again, so he turned away, and the man scrambled from behind the couch.

“Wait!  Kid,” he said, and Steve stopped to see him step and spin kind of gracefully around the glass coffee table without catching the blanket on it.  All his nails were pointed, and painted black.  “I’m sorry—” he cut off, staring down at Steve’s picture, and the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.  

“...what’s this,” he asked, like maybe he was mad again, and Steve wondered, suddenly, whether his mom had forgotten to lock the door, and the man was a naked burglar, looking for clothes to steal.  

“I wanted to meet the TV lady,” Steve admitted, trying to take it, but the man snatched it up.  “Um, are you—are you a burglar?”

“Am I—” the man glared at him—his eyes looked like fire, weirdly, the blue fire on the stove—but he didn’t look mad at Steve, yet, so Steve just bit his lips together.  “...you drew this?” the horny man asked, more quietly, and Steve nodded.  “Why?” he asked, and Steve knew he was in trouble—even if the man wasn’t supposed to be there, grownups always told each other when Steve did something dumb, like steal the TV man’s picture, which was the point Steve realized he was a stealer, a thief, like on TV.  America’s Most Wanted, he thought, his heart pounding.  

“Why draw this?” the man asked softly, crouching down, and Steve sniffled again, wiping his eyes.  

“He said a friend would come,” he admitted, wondering whether kids had their own jail, or whether he’d be in the one with all the guys from movies, who chased teenagers with chainsaws and knives.  

“You wanted a friend?” the man asked, but even softer, and Steve nodded, clenching his fingers in the sides of his pants.

“I didn’t mean to steal it,” he whispered.  “I won’t do it again.”

“...okay,” the man said.  “Don’t—don’t cry, it’s okay, are—are you okay?” he held his hands up like he was gonna touch Steve’s shoulders, then crossed his arms, frowning.

“I’m okay,” Steve nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve.  “...are, um,” he asked, cautiously, “—are you supposed to be...in here?”

“Uhhh,” said the man.  “Definitely not naked, right?” he laughed, kinda nervously, Steve thought, and he snapped his fingers.  The throw blanket turned into shiny fringed pants.  

“Ohhh,” Steve whispered, impressed.  “How’d you do that?”

“Oh,” the man said, grimacing.  “Um, let’s talk about you summoning demons, okay?”

“...okay,” Steve nodded, sighing, but then a thought occurred to him.  “Uh, do you want a PB&J?”

 As they ate, the man spread Steve’s picture on the table, with the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28.

“So this is a circle to summon the demon Belial,” he said, low but kind of intense, like Steve was in trouble, but mostly he looked sort of worried.  

Steve swallowed his bite of sandwich.  “...it’s not exactly the same,” he pointed out, a little sulkily.  “I added a horse.”

“...so you did,” said the man, turning it to look.  “...look, summoning demons is very dangerous—”

“My dad says there aren’t bad demon summoners,” Steve told him.  “He says there are bad plumbers, and bad strippers, but if you’re talking to somebody, and they summoned a demon, they must be good at it, because you’re talking to them, and—and he was on TV—”

“Strippers,” said the man weakly, and Steve realized he was being rude to his guest.  

“I’m Steve,” he said.  “What’s your name?”

“...Bel,” said the man, then, hurriedly, “Bill?”

“My mom likes Billy Idol.  And Billy Joel,” Steve suggested, and the man nodded.

“That’s a normal name that I definitely have,” he nodded, grimacing, “—Billy, I’m Billy.”

Steve considered this.  

“Are you listening, though?  About demon-summoning?  Even a lot of adults have a hard time with it—” Billy started again, holding Steve’s LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 to his chest like it was a present for him.

“The guy on TV said it was for a helper friend,” Steve told him, feeling a little guilty, but really not too much, since it hadn’t even worked.

“Steve,” Billy said, pressing his hands together over his mouth.  The chain hooking his earring to the ring in his lip swayed and made a bell sound, and Steve stared at it, then remembered to nod.  “Okay,” Billy said.  “Could you promise me you won’t try to summon any more demons?”

“My dad says—” Steve started, again, but he cut off guiltily as Billy slumped back in his chair, groaning.

“Look,” Billy tried again, rubbing his face.  “Summoning demons isn’t like inviting somebody over, okay?  They have to come.  Now imagine if someone called you up to—” he frowned down at himself, biting his lips with pointed teeth, and cleared his throat.  “Uh,” he said, swallowing, and snapped his fingers with both hands—and all the jewelry vanished.  Even his cool horns were gone, Steve realized, and he had clothes on, a little tiny black shirt that showed his belly button, and shiny plastic-y silver pants.  

It was disappointing, but Steve looked into Billy’s flameless eyes and blunt-toothed smile and politely said “...you still look nice...I guess.”  Billy snorted a laugh.  “...I’ve never seen pants like that,” Steve offered, and Billy frowned down.

“What’s wrong with them?” he asked, then shook his head.  “No, wait.  Okay.  What if you don’t want to go somewhere—”

“People make me go places all the time,” Steve said darkly, remembering the week before, when his mom had drug him in for a haircut that made him look like G.I. Joe.  He rubbed his still-fuzzy head, glowering.

“Uh,” Billy said, trying not to smile, but spinning the tires on the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, and Steve was a little proud that he liked it so much.  “Okay, a stranger.  What if a stranger makes you go somewhere you don’t want to go?”

“That’s kidnapping,” Steve said, breathlessly, his eyes huge, and Billy pointed the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 at him.  

“Yes.  When you summon a demon, you’re kidnapping them, okay?  And they can’t leave unless you let them go.”

“But the man on the TV said—” Steve whispered, then stopped, remembering how he’d made the almost-naked woman pour soda on her own head.  Steve covered his mouth, suddenly realizing she might not have wanted to be almost-naked, maybe the man had taken her clothes off, like Steve with a doll.  “Oh no,” he whispered.  “I’m so glad it didn’t work!”

“Ah, yeeeah,” Billy said, grimacing.  

“Um,” said Steve, reaching a hand over to retrieve his prize LEGO kit, and Billy snatched it back.  Steve narrowed his eyes.  “You were looking for my parents, but my dad didn’t say you were coming over, are you my mom’s friend?”

Billy winced, grimacing.  “Where is she?”

“She’s at work,” Steve told him.  “Daycare is too expensive, so over the summer I have to be good.”

“Wait, are there any grownups here?!” Billy asked, looking horrified, and Steve nodded, pointing down the hall again.

“My dad.  He locks the door.”

“...What if you drown in the bathtub, or try to eat your own fingers, or something,” Billy breathed, and Steve glared at him.

“I’m not little,” he hissed, sliding forward in his chair a little, so his toes reached the floor.  “I’m not a baby.”

“You don’t need a friend, you need a nanny,” said the recently smoking, horned, pierced and tattooed man before him.  “And that’s, uh, that’s why your mom sent me.”

“...did she really send you?” Steve asked, narrowing his eyes, and Billy crossed his arms on the table, hugging Steve’s LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 against his chest.  

“Yeah.  Yeah, she did,” he said defiantly, and Steve relaxed a little, because Billy sounded like a teenager, just a bigger kid, really.  “She said to put less peanut butter and jelly in your sandwiches,” he pointed to Steve’s overflowing PB&J-bread-burrito, looking smug, “—and just make another sandwich.”

Steve gasped, staring at him, and feeling absolutely betrayed.  “You tricked me!  Why’d you let me make it!”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell,” Billy said, and Steve’s heart was won.

 Billy won it further when he scooted his plate aside to admire the LEGO 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, and Steve drug him back to his room to show him the kits he had.  “Come on,” he said, excited and rude, and Billy slowed way down, grimacing, and flickering back to his pretty bejeweled self, with horns.  

“How about you ask if I wanna do things,” he said stiffly, slowing almost to a stop, and smoking more around the eyes.  

“Oh, yeah,” Steve nodded.  “Sorry.  Can I show you my room?”

“Or maybe, ‘Hey, Billy, want to see my room,’” Billy suggested, taking a deep breath.  

“Okay,” Steve nodded.  “Want to see my room?”

“Sure,” Billy nodded, relaxing like it was some big relief.  

It occurred to Steve maybe it was.  “Sorry,” he said quickly.  “I’ll be polite, I won’t get you fired.”

“Um, yeah,” Billy laughed, shaking his head.  “Maybe don’t, uh, order me around.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, thinking hard about it, so he’d remember.  “I won’t say ‘Billy, pick me upOOF—” he wheezed, as Billy yanked him into the air with one arm around his waist.  “Sorry,” Steve wheezed, his feet kicking.  “I-I’ll say Billy would you, sorry—”

“Shit!  Damn it, I mean, uh, sorry,” Billy said, grimacing, and sat Steve back on his feet, straightening his clothes.  

“I’ll remember,” Steve told him, wide-eyed, and then, because Billy looked guilty, “It’s okay.”

 He tried hard to remember, and he usually did, because Billy got all tense and weird if Steve forgot, like he was trying to move underwater, and Steve had to yell “If you want!  If you want!” as Billy grimly bit into the crunchy, burned eggs Steve had made.  

“That was disgusting,” Billy told him, that time, and Steve couldn’t stop laughing, waving his hands.

“Okay, okay, can I—can I just tell you you can ignore me?  I won’t tell, you can just—just do things if you want to—”

“...you sure about that?” Billy asked, snorting softly, like Steve might be kidding, and Steve nodded frantically.  

“Yeah!  Yes!  Don’t, um, don’t eat any more eggshells, I’m sorry!”

“...okay,” Billy said, smiling down at him.  “When am I not supposed to listen?”

“Uh,” said Steve, blinking at him.  “I mean.  You should—you should always listen—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Billy said, rolling his eyes.

“No, you should!” Steve told him, grabbing Billy’s hand and tugging it.  “What if something’s gonna hit you in the head?  You should listen,” he nodded, thinking about it.  “But once you listen, you should decide what you want to do.”

“What if I wanted to...eat you?” Billy asked him, reaching down to tickle Steve’s stomach, and Steve yelped, giggling.

“You won’t eat me,” Steve told him, leaning into Billy, to give him a hug.  “You’re nice.”

Billy sighed, and hugged him back, tightly.

 Billy was better at some things than other people, like clothes, Steve thought, because Billy was always pointing people’s outfits out, and explaining how they weren’t as good at picking them.  He wasn’t as good at other things, though.  Steve sat down one night to heated-up pasta sauce over Cheerios, and he didn’t want to say anything, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t right.  Billy gave Steve’s mom a glass of water that was completely frozen because she said she wanted it iced, and when Steve’s dad told Billy to make burgers, Billy didn’t buy buns, or tomatoes, or anything, and he threw the meat in the pan until it caught fire.  

Steve was pretty sure none of it was a joke, because Billy frowned between the glass and Steve’s mom, and grimaced over the burgers after Steve’s dad stomped away, and Steve caught him whispering into the phone to the neighbor, hiding half in the fridge like nobody was gonna notice it was open.  

“Billy,” he whispered, and Billy jumped, as Steve crouched down next to him.  The breeze from the inside of the fridge was nice, but it hardened all Steve’s suspicions, because no grown-up had ever left the fridge open, he was pretty sure.  

“Yeah,” Billy muttered back, guiltily.

“...how old’re you,” Steve asked, and Billy flinched.  

“Older than you,” he shot back, and that Steve was willing to give him, because Billy wasn’t human, and some things lived different amounts of time, like trees.  

“Are you a kid too?” Steve asked, and Billy glared at him.

“No,” he said defiantly, and Steve nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows, until Billy groaned, deflating, sitting against the edge of the fridge and letting his legs sprawl out across the floor.  “Look, I’m trying—”

“I won’t tell,” Steve said, reaching out and squeezing Billy’s hand.  “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“...teenager...maybe,” Billy admitted, grimacing.  

“Okay,” Steve said, nodding.  “Billy,” he said, trying to sound like a parent, or a teacher, and Billy’s shoulders hunched.  “You need to tell me you need help,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips.  “I can help with things like human food.”

“You are human food,” Billy said, fondly, yanking Steve into a hug.

 Most of the people that did magic like Billy ate kids occasionally, Steve found out, as he was reading his Dictionary of the Magic Realms that night under the covers, by flashlight.  Maybe they were mean kids, Steve thought, or maybe Billy was just way nicer.  “Are you a fairy?” he asked the next morning, and Billy laughed.  

“Depends on what you mean,” he said, grinning over.  “Is that slang for—”

“Can you fly,” Steve interrupted, because that seemed the most important, and Billy cocked his head.  

“...actually, I probably could,” he said, considering.  “Not like you mean, though.  I don’t have secret butterfly wings, or anything.”

“Oh,” Steve said, because he'd been privately imagining Billy as they’d first met, with the jewelry and the horns and wings, and it seemed to fit.

“...do you want me to have wings?” Billy asked, sitting aside the dish he was drying, and bending down sideways to try and meet Steve’s eyes.  “I can change form—”

“No!” Steve told him, waving his hands.  “No, I know you like looking like...that.”

“...that,” Billy said, raising his eyebrows as he looked down at himself.  “You saying I need to do better?”

“You’re just—normal,” Steve said quickly.  “Instead of pretty.”

“Instead of,” Billy growled.

“I mean,” Steve yelped, waving his hands.  “Pretty with all the jewelry!  And the horns.”

“I was gonna say,” Billy said, reddening.  “If you’re saying I’m not pretty—”

“Of course you’re pretty,” Steve said, rolling his eyes and sighing, but grinning, too.  He patted Billy’s shoulder.

“Well,” Billy said, clearing his throat, and turning back to the dishes.  “All right, then.”

 A few days later, Billy was moving the kettle off the flame for hot chocolate, and a big gout of steam belched up over his arm, which shimmered into all over scales.  Steve yelped and grabbed him, yanking him over to the sink, and ran water over it, all the while panicking.

“Billy, are you a mermaid?!” he asked, spraying Billy’s arm, and trying not to cry.  “Are you a mermaid, are you okay, are hot things bad for mermaids—”

“I’m okay,” Billy told him, turning off the water, and hugging him close.  “I’m not a mermaid, Stevie, I’m not hurt.”

“O-okay,” Steve gasped, grabbing Billy’s arm to run his fingers over it.  “You—you’re okay,” he whispered, leaning into Billy’s hugs.  “...are you a...lizard?  Or a snake?”

“Nope, not exactly,” Billy said, snorting a laugh, and Steve groaned.

The rest of my Harringrove works