#thinking about making some shitty bear valentines when I get home from work

[grizzly-bear-official]

happy valentines day! giving everyone a big bear hug and some salmon-shaped chocolates.

[kingofsummer93]

Prompts 9 and/or 64 for Elucien pls!

also, I think 10 would definitely a tired, over it, exasperated Lucien would say 😂

Chaotic Writing Prompts

9- Get in the fucking blanket fort / 64-Pay attention to me, I’m cute and needy.

For @sjmromanceweek Day 2 : Love Language

Elain and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.7K

read it on Ao3

As far as Valentine's Day celebrations went, this one was on its way to becoming the worst in Elain’s entire life. She would have gladly relived her awkward first kiss at the 9th grade winter formal over this hellish day.

She was tired, she was hungry, she was more than a little cranky, and she was driving home through the worst blizzard of the year. And to top it all off, her husband was currently out of town on a business trip, during what should have been their first Valentines Day as a married couple.

It wasn’t his fault, of course. Lucien had seriously suggested feigning an illness to get out of it, and had only gone after Elain had practically shoved him into the Uber.

Still, she knew it was just a silly holiday, but she couldn’t help it- she loved Valentine’s Day. She loved the heart-shaped candies, and the decorations, and dinners in candle-lit restaurants. Or maybe she simply loved love, and any excuse to celebrate it. Lucien had promised they would celebrate when he got back, but she couldn’t help her disappointment.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do Galentine’s Day?” Vassa’s voice was barely discernible over the sound of the heat blasting in her car. “I can cancel our dinner reservation. You know how much Jurian hates Valentine’s Day anyway.”

Elain sighed, for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I love you for suggesting it but no. I had a bad day and I’m just being dramatic.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, hun, but I’m going to stab my coworker to death and eat her heart for lunch sounds like a little more than a bad day.”

“That bitch probably doesn’t even have a heart anyway,” Elain mumbled darkly.

Vassa cackled, her laughter punctuated by the unmistakable sound of a bottle of wine opening in the background.

Wine. That was what she needed. Wine and a bubble bath, followed by a big bowl of popcorn and more wine.

“I”m fine,” she said again, as much to convince herself as Vassa. “I’m just going to put on some sweats, watch a movie and drown my sorrows in wine. Lucien said he’d facetime me if his meetings ended early, anyway.”

She didn’t add that Lucien hadn’t sounded convinced that he could make this happen, considering he was currently in a different time zone and his work days had been ending at 10 pm.

“Throw in a gin and tonic for good measure. And maybe a green vegetable.”

“Yes mom!”

“And Elain- please don’t stab anyone tonight! Although, Valentine’s Day Stabber does have a ring to it…”

Elain let out a puff of laughter, some of the day’s tension easing from her shoulders. “I promise no stabbing. Although I make no promises on strangulation.”

“That’s my girl. Love you.”

“Love you too. Go torture Jurian with lots of lovey-dovey stuff.”

“Hey! I heard-”

Vassa’s cackles were cut off as her friend promptly disconnected, and Elain could only laugh again as she pictured the look of exaggerated affront that would currently be on Jurian’s face.

Her briefly heightened spirits quickly fell, however, as she turned into her driveway and her little Honda skidded over the snow already accumulated there. She needed a new car. And a house with a garage.

Or maybe she just wanted her husband to be waiting for her inside, ready to wrap her in a bear hug and listen patiently to her whine about her shitty day.

No mopping. It’s just a stupid holiday, it doesn’t mean anything.

Her phone pinged, as if mocking her.

Heading into the afternoon conference. It’s BOILING hot here. Hope you’re not getting buried in snow! Shovel is in the shed if you need it.

Elain grumbled all the way to her front door, cursing both her husband and the snow sinking into her boots and soaking through her socks. She peeled her off her wet parka and boots and walked upstairs to her bedroom, deciding her priority number one was putting on her oldest, comfiest sweats. Her bedroom door was half open, and once glance inside made her stop dead in her tracks.

Somebody was in her house.

Not only was somebody in her house, but somebody had turned her bedroom into a giant blanket fort. Sheets and blankets were draped over the bed, looping over the ceiling fan to create a makeshift tent. String lights were strung over the headboard, illuminating the inside of the blanket fort.

Enough so that she could see the outline of someone lying on her bed.

Elain gasped and froze in shock, her heart jumping into her throat. She stood there for another beat, heart racing, as she mentally went through the list of people with a key to her house.

Lucien, who had just gone into a conference in California, thousands of miles away.

Vassa, who she had just spoken to on the phone.

And her sisters, who she knew for a fact were both occupied with their respective boyfriends tonight.

Elain turned and ran, practically tripping down the stairs as she went. Just as she was diving for her cell phone loud footsteps sounded overhead.

For one wild, hysterical moment she considered running to the kitchen and grabbing her biggest chef’s knife.

Valentine’s Day Stabber; Woman Stabs Intruder with Kitchen Knife!

The footsteps had started down the stairs. Elain clutched her cell phone in her hand, fingers poised over the emergency call button, and yanked her front door open.

“Love? Where are you going?”

The male voice trickling down the staircase was deep and rumbling, tinged with humor.

It was also very, very familiar.

Elain whirled on the spot, her heart still racing with adrenaline, and came face to face with the sight of her husband grinning at her. His white shirt was rumpled, his long red hair falling out of a messy bun, his lips curved into an infuriatingly playful grin.

“Lucien!” Elain clapped a hand to her chest, willing her racing pulse to slow down. “God! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry!” He held up his palms, grin widening, not even looking a little bit sorry. The little shit.

“It’s not funny! I thought you were an intruder! I almost went to the kitchen to grab a knife!”

Lucien was trying not to laugh now, his chest heaving as he suppressed his chuckles. Elain had a sudden urge to throttle him. Maybe she hadn’t been wrong about the strangulation thing.

“Not the Imarku! That was a wedding gift!” He was full-on laughing now, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Elain growled in frustration and ran up the stairs, unsure if she wanted to tackle him and kiss him or tackle him and punch him. Before she could make up her mind Lucien laughed again and bounded up the stairs two at a time, disappearing into their bedroom.

“Come back here you little shit!”

“I can’t believe you thought an intruder had made you a blanket fort!”

“I will murder you!”

Elain reached the top of the stairs just in time to see Lucien dive-bomb into the mass of sheets and blankets over their bed.

“Get in the blanket fort!”

“No. I’m mad at you.” She crossed her arms over her chest for emphasis, even though he couldn’t see her.

“Get in the fucking blanket fort!”

“No!”

“Come pay attention to me, I’m cute and needy.” Lucien stuck his head out of the fort, pouting at her. His hair was even more mussed, his eyes still shining with delight. Damn him. Damn him and his stupidly beautiful face.

In three rapid steps Elain had crossed the room and launched herself into his arms, tackling him backwards onto the bed.

“I’m cute and needy,” she whined, face pressed against his chest. His familiar spicy, musky scent filled her nostrils. “And I had a shit day and I missed you.”

Lucien’s arms tightened around her as he buried his face in her face. “I missed you too, my love. So much.”

There was nothing but sincerity in his voice now, and all of Elain’s anger melted away. She lifted her hair and peered around the blanket fort, giggling as she took in the sight. The bed was piled high with pillows and cushions, forming a little nest underneath the canopy of sheets and blankets. The string lights draped over the headboard gave the space a cozy, warm glow. A laptop was plugged in and opened to the Netflix romantic comedy section, and next to it sat a bottle of wine, a box of chocolates, and a large bowl of buttered popcorn.

Lucien smiled sheepishly. “The conference ended a day early and I thought it would be fun to surprise you. I’m sorry I scared you.”

Elain squeezed him tighter, burying her face against him again. “I’m sorry I almost stabbed you with our Imarku.”

Lucien’s laugh vibrated against her cheek. He dipped a finger under her chin and Elain angled her face up for a kiss, sighing at the familiar feel of his lips against hers.

“Hi,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against her lips.

“Hi.” She giggled again as he nuzzled her nose. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too. Tell me all about your shitty day.”

“It’s not a shitty day anymore. Now it’s a great day.”

“Indeed. The day you almost stabbed an intruder for making you a blanket fort.”

Elain punched him in the shoulder, shaking her head at him.

“We can go out for dinner, if you’d rather,” Lucien added. “But the weather is so bad I thought it’d be fun to have a cozy night in.”

“No!” Elain exclaimed, reaching for a handful of popcorn. “I love my blanket fort. We should leave it like this. Although…”

“Yes?” Lucien asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Elain glanced at his rumpled dress shirt, then at her own wrinkled top, feeling her strapless bra digging into her skin.

“Can we change into sweats?”

Lucien grinned again, wickedly this time. “Yes, after.”

Elain bit her lip. She knew that grin. “After what?” she asked, blinking up at him innocently.

She yelped as Lucien smoothly flipped them so he hovered over her. “After you pay attention to me. I’m cute and needy, remember?”

“You’re also an idiot.”

“Ahh, yes, but you love me.”

Elain hummed noncommittally.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” Lucien whispered.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, you big dummy.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

57 sternclay nsfw? i can see stern complaining to a stranger that his ex complained about how weird his kinks were while dumping him

Here you go! 57: “we’re fighting over the last box of half-off valentine’s day chocolate and end up in a “who has it worse” battle.

For being in a mountain town in the slow season, the seasonal candy shelves of the Kepler Walgreens are bare. Were it 10 am on Valentines Day, Joseph would be in a panic. At 10 p.m, it feels like yet more proof this trip is utterly doomed.

But he didn’t become one of the top agents in the Department of Unexplained Phenomena by being unobservant. On the top shelf, pushed towards the back, is a bag of Reese's hearts and a bag of M&Ms. Thank you, years of training.

Being six feet tall helps too.

He’s so locked onto his target that he doesn’t notice the other person in the store until their hands smack into each other en route to the bags.

“Sorry, uh, lemme just get these and I’ll get out of your way.” A voice as deep and sweet as summer honey reaches his ears.

“I’m sorry, but I was going to buy these.” He starts pulling the bags towards him, only for the other guy to grab them. Joseph glares; the man trying to relieve him of his last solace looks like the kind of lumberjack you see in recordings titled things, “Log Pounders IV” or “Bear Hunting.”

“Look, buddy, I really need these so can you, like, find some other bags?”

“These are the last two. And I guarantee I need them more.” As long as he keeps a pleasant voice and gives no ground, this should go smoothly.

“Unless you got dumped this month, I don’t think you do.”

“I got dumped seven hours ago.” He says through an increasingly tight-lipped smile.

“At least your ex isn’t tagging you in a bunch of photos bragging about his new boyfriend.”

“He can’t, because he probably only just got back to his apartment in the rental car. The one I’m now stranded here without.”

“Pfft, just call an Uber or something.”

“It’ll cost several hundred dollars to get home!”

“You look like you can afford it.” Brown eyes flick from his hair down to his shoes, “some of us have to use half-price candy to soothe our wounds. You’re probably staying at the kind of fancy B&B where they have complimentary booze.”

“I would be, except their was a fuck-up with the reservation. Which my ex took as proof this was time to end things, and is the reason I’m dragging this all over town.” He kicks his ergonomically designed, rolling suitcase hard enough that it bumps into his adversary.

“Better he gave you some bullshit reason than the truth, which mine was all too happy to tell me. You can have these when someone you tried to make happy tells you he thinks you’re ‘too soft’ and that if only you’d manned up he woulda stayed, whatever the fuck that even means.”

Goddamnit, Joseph is not about to lose this argument--and his candy--on top of everything else.

“I’ll trade you that for being told you’re: too exacting, far more uncool than your job implies, too anxious, too invested in your work, that your whole personality is flawed and, just for extra fun, that your kinks are too weird and no one in their right mind would ever want to sleep with you if they knew them ahead of time.”

The other man’s hold on the bags loosens. Then it returns, stronger than before, as he grumbles, “Please, no one’s kinks are that weird.”

“You have no idea what mine are.”

“Then how about you give me a demonstration, huh?” Lumberjack snaps.

Joseph's common sense finally catches up with his thirst for comfort and, apparently, conflict.

“I, I’m sorry, did you just offer to fuck me in the middle of a fight over discount candy?”

“I....” the man lets go of the bags, chuckles, “yeah, I did. Fuck, I’m sorry, it’s been such a shitty day that my mouth decided it was gonna do whatever it took to stay in that fight.”

Joseph laughs a little, slumping against the shelf, “I guess it’s nice to know I’m not the only person in town whose Valentine’s Day didn’t go to plan.”

“No kidding. Though, uh, I didn’t get dumped this month. It was three months ago. He did tag me in all those photos today though.”

“That’s so rude.”

“Not as rude as leaving your boyfriend stranded in the mountains.”

B-grade pop hits fill the awkward silence between them.

“I, uh, this might be way outta line, but I got an idea; if you buy the candy, I can take us back to my place and bake something with it. That way we can both enjoy it, and you won’t be stuck wandering around in the cold.”

He runs a quick is-this-a-serial-killer scan of the man in front of him.

“Sure. But just so you know, I’m opening the Reeses in the car.”

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

“Feeling better?” Barclay, his host, wipes stray cupcake crumbs from his lips.

“Much.” He polishes off his second coffee-cocoa cupcake with M&Ms in the batter, lifts his coffee cup, “this place is lucky to have you.”

Barclay blushes the same way he has every time Joseph compliments his cooking, home, or taste in books. They’ve spent the last ninety minutes in the kitchen of Barclay’s small, A-Frame cabin, one of eight laid out in a half circle behind Amnesty Lodge. The cook explained that the cabins were for staff or long term residents, and that while the Lodge sometimes had vacancies, this week had seen them swamped.

The rain alternates between pleasant pitter-pats and drops that could kill a small bird, so Joseph is incredibly grateful to Barclay for giving him a place to shelter. When he thanks him, the cook shrugs with a little smile, “you shouldn’t leave nice things out in the rain.”

As they’re cleaning up the dishes, Barclay passes him a plate and says, “You can stay here tonight. If, uh, if you want. The couch isn’t much, but it’s dry and I’ve got a bunch of spare blankets.”

“That’d be great, thank you. And, um, thank you for being so nice to me, given how we met.”

“Eh, no one who’s in a Walgreens after ten is in a good mood. And, uh, it’s nice to have someone to talk with. I’m kinda the quiet one of my friends, and work is mostly calling orders and stuff.” He pulls the coffee pot from the heat, “can I top you off?”

“Yes, please.” His caffeine tolerance is so high a few cups late at night doesn’t mess with his sleep. Barclay is sticking with tea, something scented like cardamon and comfort.

They move to the couch that’s clearly been re-covered a dozen times, Barclay only getting up to turn on some music; delta blues, if Joseph’s ear is right. It’s not until the clock strikes one thirty that Joseph notices they’re sitting so close that their knees bump whenever one of them turns to talk.

“Okay, I gotta ask” Barclay’s brown eyes shine sweet and playful, “what exactly was so weird about your kinks that your dickhead ex went out of his way to mention them?”

He thinks a moment, scanning his body and noticing he’s more relaxed than he’s been in weeks, including all the times he spent with his ex. Something about the faint scent of dish-soap on Barclays hands, the gentle smile that makes Joseph certain that--for all his bulk--if Joseph told him to roll over and show his belly, he’d do it in an instant, the way he doesn’t rolls his eyes or shy away when Joseph talks, all of that makes him calm. Which makes him bold.

“Wait right here.” He hops up, grabs his bag from the door and pulls it over to the rug by the couch. All he has to do to reveal his secret is lift his pajamas.

“Holy fuck.” Barclay leans forward, “you really came prepared.”

“It was supposed to be a romantic getaway. I...we’d never used any of this together, but I hoped we might this time. It’s, it’s not his fault, I know my tastes aren’t for everyone, and we had plenty in common in bed. But he went through this whole thing where he said we should share our deepest fantasies. Apparently wanting to be choked is fine, but wanting to fuck Mothman is not.”

“That’s what this one is.” Barclay picks up one of the two dildos, black with lots of swirling ridges.

“That’s actually my dragon one. Um.” he holds up the ovipositor toy, “this one is supposed to be mothman.”

Barclay squishes one of the silicone eggs, “that feels kinda nice. What else did you bring?”

His genuine interest is not helping Joseph keep his hopes under control.

“The other toy is the ‘bigfoot’ model. And this is, um, this is my newest one, I was so excited I pre-ordered it. It acts like a cock-sleeve, but this part here is supposed to mimic a, um, a knot.”

“Like the idea of getting knotted, babe?” The cook’s voice is a little deeper than when he last spoke, and rather than pulling away he’s inching into Joseph’s space.

“Yes. I, um, I’m getting the sense” he shifts so his hands are on Barclay’s knees, “that we might have something in common besides our taste in leftover candy.”

“I packed all this so carefully” he brushes their lips together, “it’d be a shame to let it sit unused.”

Barclay scoops him into a kiss, growling happily when Joseph instantly parts his lips. His beard is soft and tickly under Joseph’s palms, and his mind takes the thought of getting beard-burn on his thighs and runs so far with it that he almost misses what Barclay says next.

“In that case, you better decide if you want me to open your ass up so I can fuck you with a knot, or if you wanna do it yourself.”

“I prefer to do it myself.”

A second kiss, a bit gentler this time, “bedroom’s at the end of the hall. Get naked and wait for me there?”

“Roger that, big guy.”

When Barclay growls this time it’s rougher, jumping out of his chest and seeming to surprise him.

Joseph undresses as Barclay stops off in the bathroom, rifling through the medicine cabinet while Joseph folds his clothes. He’s down to his boxers when he remembers there is a conversation he needed to have before it hit this point.

“You trying to get me to rip those off with my teeth?” Barclay grins as he sets some condoms and lube on the bed and starts taking off his pants.

“I, um, there’s something you should be aware of. We don’t have the same, um, set-up.”

Barclay furrows his brow, gets his meaning, then nods, “no problem. If you’re okay with that part of you being involved I, uh, I just got a really, really good idea for what to do.”

“It’s not always the case, but tonight I definitely want it involved. I want you inside me as many ways as possible.”

“Fuck yeah.” Barclay tosses his shirt into the laundry, “get your ass open enough to take that knot.”

He slips the condom on, douses it with lube, and presses the first finger in, discovering that he's unable to stop complimenting Barclay for even five seconds while he finishes disrobing. The flush under his dark chest hair is unendingly charming, as is the little whine he makes at Joseph telling him he likes how big he is.

“I, I’m serious, ahhn, it’s rare to find someone taller than me and I really like it.”

“Feeds into the monster thing?” Barclay crawls beside him, laying down so he can kiss him as he works the second finger in.

“In a way.”

A deep, rumbly chuckle that has Joseph fucking himself hurriedly, “Don’t be coy, babe. You like the thought of something big and hairy getting a hold of you and not letting you go until you’re dripping cum.”

“Holy shit, yes” he gets the third finger in, sighing as Barclay nuzzles his neck.

“Well, I’m not bigfoot, but I’m betting I’ll do just fine.”

“More than fine.” Joseph kisses him, feels him smile in a way that melts his heart like cheap chocolate.

“Got some other theories about you, babe, but you gotta wait until you’re on my dick to hear ‘em.” Barclay sits up, stroking his cock in time with Joseph’s hand, “fucking-A, can’t believe your ex didn’t wanna stick around for this. You look like a fucking porn star; we oughta record you getting fucked in your suit and sell if for big bucks.”

He moans, pulling his fingers free, “Fuck me now. Please.”

“Fuck that’s hot.” Barclay works the sleeve down over his cock, sits up against the wall, “come sit in my lap, facing away.”

Joseph straddles him, gasps when the head of his cock presses in. He prepped well, but all the same he has to take his time wiggling his way down. Barclay caresses him, grunting and whimpering whenever he moves, breath prickling the hairs at the base of his neck. It’s heavenly.

When he hits the knot, Barclay rubs more lube on it, but it stays outside of him as he grinds on it. Between moans, the cook manages to say, “want me to start the next part?”

“Yes, please.”

Barclay loads the ovipositor with the three eggs, praises Joseph for being a good boy when he spreads his legs to accommodate the head of the toy.

“I, I thought you had more you were going to tell me?” He tilts his head awkwardly to kiss Barclay’s shoulder.

“Uh huh.” Barclay slowly works the toy in and out, doing his best to sync it to the rolls of his hips, “I think you’re the kind of guy who doesn’t just want one monster; you want ‘em all.”

“Variety is, ohgod, part of a healthy sex life.”

“I don’t mean one monster on one day and a different one on another. I think you want them all at once.”

“Oh yes, oh! Ohohoh” he kicks his legs as the first egg pushes in, “fuck, Barclay, please keep going.”

“Whatever you want, babe.” He nuzzles Joseph’s hair, “that’s how I came up with this plan; seeing all those different dicks made me think you’d, fuck, you’d like me to pretend there was more than just me fucking you.”

Joseph nods, clinging to Barclays arm and bearing down on the knot.

“Can just see it now; you got yourself lost in the woods out here, go looking for help only to find a whole bunch of monsters waiting for you. Spend the rest of the night pressed into the dirt and leaves while every cryptid from, fuck” he bucks his hips, “from here to Canada had their turn.”

“Shit, shit” the knot starts pushing in, “y-you’ve got my number, big guy.”

“Yeah?” Barclay squeezes the base of the toy as he talks, causing the remaining two eggs to push their way in, Joseph’s body clenching around them, “you want a night where all your good for is being fucked, where if you beg for a break you get a bigfoot fucking your throat and werewolves cumming on your chest instead of them all mobbing you at once?”

“Shit, yes, YESohfuck” the knot enters him as Barclay shoves his hips down, “ohmygod that’s good, fuck, I feel so full, you’re so smart, this was genius, fuck you know how to treat meAHannnfuck, shit.” He holds on to Barclays arm’s as the other man fucks him with abandon.

“Oh I know, babe. Know I was fucking right. You wanna be claimed, wanna be owned, wanna be bred by a whole fuckin pack-”

“Jesuschrist” it’s hard to breathe at the pace Barclay sets, his body aching to cum but not quite able to get there. He squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing frantically at his dick as Barclay loses himself in the fantasy.

“You’d be so cute, leaves in your hair and cum on your chin, taking it all and begging for more. Good thing you’re so needy, you could tear a pack apart with folks fighting over who gets to fuck you, fuck, Joseph, baby, you’re so fucking good, gonna be so fucking good to you, fuck, fuck” he shoves as deep as he can while he cums, and in the haze of pleasure Joseph swears claws prick the skin of his chest. Just the thought of that sends his own orgasm coursing through him, his body tensing and twisting on Barclay’s cock, making them both moan from sudden overstimulation.

“S-sorry” Barclay pants.

“Nothing to apologize for, just physiology, here, let me ow, ow, okay maybe I should have relaxed more first.” He’s free of both toys, but that was right on the edge of too painful. He waits for Barclay to take off the sleeve, then rolls the bigger man so his head is on his chest.

“Your ex didn’t know how good they had it.”

“Thanks, babe.”

He smiles, “I like that. No one ever calls me something that informal.”

“Call you it whenever you want. Babe.” Barclay kisses his arm, “you can, uh, stay in bed if you want. We don’t have a ton of time together so I’d, uh, well, I’d like to spend as much of it with you as I can.”

For the first time, Joseph wishes his vacation would last longer.

“Agreed, big guy.”

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

“You said you had my new assignment, sir?”

“Yes. Agent Stern, you will be going to the town of Kepler to investigate the events described in this file.” Agent Hayes passses him the folder.

“Understood, sir.”

Joseph manages to keep his smile to himself all the way to his desk.

[yikesharringrove]

hop or max (or both👀) realise how close bill and steve have become and love it because they can just see how happy the boys are

The two boys hadn’t noticed Hop standing there.

They were sitting, pressed hip to hip on the stairs outside the Byers’ when he arrived to pick up El.

They were passing one cigarette back and forth despite the full pack sitting between them, and the outline of a pack he could see in Billy’s breast pocket.

They were talking softly, giggling, touch lingering as they passed the cigarette back and forth.

Billy’s face was soft, was open when he looked at Steve. Hop didn’t know much about the kid, but had heard stories, stories of how rough and tumble he tended to be, how he was hard and mean.

He looked like a damn teddy bear next to Harrington on the steps.

And Jesus, Steve was almost unrecognizable to Hopper.

He had known the kid for a long time, knew his dad all through school, knew Steve when he got old enough to start causin’ trouble.

He had seen Steve looking bored and proper, like he was above everything, like he was too good for Hawkins. He had seen Steve get knocked down a few hundred pegs, had seen him rattling about the town with a nervous twitch in his shoulder, a crazed glint in his eye and a spiked bat in his trunk.

Hell, he’d even seen the kid breakdown, had found him in the woods one night, crashing through with his bat, had started spewing off about how he needed to make sure they were all gone, that everyone’s safe.

(He had cried and shook and slept on Hop’s couch for about a day and a half after that.)

He was used to the spoiled little prince, or the haunted teen with trauma past his years.

He was not used to this carefree boy, this giggly mess sitting next to his friend, sharing a cigarette.

He liked the look on Steve. Liked the line of his shoulders when they weren’t carrying the weight of the world.

-

Max huffed.

She had been woken up by a few thumps in Billy’s room. He had originally figured Neil was in there being awful, but then she heard giggles, unmistakable teenage girl giggles.

That gave way into unmistakable teenage girl moans.

She slammed a pillow over her head, blocking out the high-pitched whimpering. It was the same as the past few nights.

This girl, whoever she was, Billy must like her if she kept sneaking into his bedroom.

Usually, Billy was sneaking out, not letting this girl in.

When the noises had stopped, she took the pillow off her head.

“Sucks that your parent are home. It makes me nervous, you comin’ here. When do they leave again?” She rolled over, didn’t care to hear the chick’s response. She put on her headphones, falling asleep to the Metallica tape still in Billy’s walkman, didn’t hear Steve say, just two more nights, Bill.

-

“You need any help?” Hop was elbows deep in the sink, scrubbing at the dishes from dinner.

Steve was leaning against the counter, rolling up his sleeves. He didn’t wait for an answer, just shoved himself next to Hop and began scrubbing.

“You and Hargrove seem to be close.” He was too focused on rubbing the stains off of Joyce’s dishes to see how Steve’s cheeks went red.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“I think you’re good for each other. You both seem better.”

“‘Do you mean better?” Hop shrugged.

“He doesn’t seem as pissed off. I haven’t given him a speeding ticket in over two weeks for rage driving, and you haven’t seemed so, I don’t know, fucked up.”

Steve had to put the dish down as he laughed, was laughing so fucking hard he had to squat down, try to collect himself. He wiped his eyes when he stood back up.

“He’s secretly a really nice person. Don’t tell him I said that.” Hop winked at him.

-

Max threw Billy a weird look.

She had asked for a ride to Steve’s house, which was met with a I’ll be ready in ten from Billy. Twenty minutes of him getting his hair just so, they set off.

And then Billy got out of the car with her, walked her to Steve’s door.

“Don’t you got a date?” Billy just furrowed his brows at her. She looked pointedly at his clothes, the red shirt he only wore on his dates, almost all the way unbuttoned.

“Nah. Just haven’t done laundry in a while.” He was staring her down.

“Are you and Steve even friends?” But he didn’t answer. The door swung open, revealing Steve dressed casually in a pair of sweats. He smiled at Max, ushering her inside to the kitchen with the rest of the brats as he stepped onto the porch to talk to Billy.

She doubled back.

“You look nice. Got a date?”

“Yeah. Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.” She cringed at the way her brother was talking about this poor girl. Plus, ehy had he lied to Max, said he didn’t have a date.

“Sounds like a wet fucking dream.” Billy muttered shuddup as Steve laughed.

Steve was making fun of Billy, as wasn’t getting the shit beaten out of him for it.

“Well, come in then. It’s cold.” It really wasn’t but she raced off to join the others in the kitchen, left too soon to see Billy pin Steve against the door, kiss him roughly for a few seconds.

Billy snuck out again, after dropping her off at home.

-

Hop was on quarry duty tonight.

It was Valentine’s Day, which meant most of Hawkins’ young couples would be parked at the quarry or Lovers’ Lake or one of the other lookout make out spots.

Hop was wandering through with a flashlight, knocking on windows with a Hawkins PD, get outta here, you’re trespassing.

He came upon Billy Hargrove’s unmistakable car, the dark blue Camaro parked under a large tree, mostly hidden from the other’s.

He was expecting to knock on the back window, but heard voices coming from the hood.

Billy and Steve were passing what smelled like a joint back and forth, laying back on the windshield looking at the stars.

“Fuck knows I got no other plans for this year. I don’t mind waiting.”

“It’s a whole year, Steve. You’d be stuck here until I graduate.”

“What else am I gonna do?”

“You might still get into Chicago.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Bill.” 

Hopper came stomping up to their line of sight. Steve put out the joint against the side of the car and tossed it into the bushes.

“Subtle.” Billy shrugged at Hop.

“I was expecting to have to pull you off some girl, Hargrove.”

“Hawkins chicks ain’t really my type.” Hop just shook his head.

“Well, you two are still trespassing. Services roads closed at six.” Steve just nodded vigorously as he slid off the car.

“We’ll scurry right off, Hop. Sorry.”

“And if you two are gonna smoke, please do it in a house, or somewhere I can’t smell it.”

The two slammed themselves in the car, Hop could hear them laugh as the car roared to life.

-

Max was digging through the backseat of Billy’s car, trying to find her skateboard.

He had hidden it from her, like a fucking child, so she snagged his keys when he was too busy being a meathead, working out in the living room.

It was as gross as she was expecting. Billy like to keep his car very clean, especially compared to his pigsty of a bedroom.

She picked up an old worn sweatshirt, found a plain shoebox underneath.

She didn’t want to snoop, but she was curious.

There were a few pictures of Billy’s mom right on top. She only recognized her from the necklace around her neck, the one Billy now refused to take off.

There were some movie ticket stubs, a big wad off cash she made a mental note of, a slip of paper she recognized from a fortune cookie from the place Billy would take her on Thursdays after school in California to get their two for one entree special. He had some jewelry in there, probably more of his mom’s, and a gaudy valentine covered in glitter.

She closed the box, didn’t care to dig further than the valentine, didn’t see Steve’s neat handwriting inside of it, the pictures Billy hoarded underneath it, pictures of Steve, pictures of him and Steve, even a few saucy ones of Steve.

Instead she turned her attention to the hoodie, to the faded Hawkins High Swim Team on the front.

She gave it back to Steve next time she saw him.

“Found it in my brother’s car.”

It would be back in a few weeks, anyway.

-

Hop opened the door to the cabin when Steve rapt on it.

He was toting a bunch of board games, was there to watch El for the night.

Hop raised his eyebrows when Steve set them down, revealing the faded Judas Priest shirt. He knew Steve liked shitty pop, wouldn’t be caught dead listening to hard rock.

“Nice shirt.” Steve looked down at himself, going red.

“Oh shit, Bill slept over last night, he must’ve left it.”

And then Hop noticed the bruises. The dark hickies on his neck, just under the stolen shirt.

Hop’s pretty sure he would’ve never heard the end of it if Steve had a girlfriend, pretty sure the kid’s would’ve lost their shit over it.

So Steve maybe was dating in secret, dating a boy in secret, a boy he spent Valentine’s Day with, a boy he giggled with and shared cigarettes with, a boy who’s shirts he stole and forgot he was wearing them.

But Steve was soft when he sat down next to El, smiled at her nicely and asked about the book she was reading.

So Hop shrugged, and went to his late shift.

-

“You wanna go to the mall?” Billy was standing weirdly in her doorway, trying to make himself look like he belonged there. “Could call up that chick friend of yours.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“What’s the catch.”

“No catch. Just needed to get something from the mall. Thought you’d wanna go.” He had been acting really off lately.

He’d been talking to her how they used to, before Neil doubled down and moved them halfway across the country. He had even made a joke the other day, one that wasn’t a mean comment masquerading as a joke.

“Lemme call El. Maybe Hop would drop her off.” She was even more suspicious as he smiled at her, went to back to his room. She talked to El for a moment, who said Hop would drop her off in ten minutes.

She poked her head in Billy’s room, saw him looking in the mirror, primping himself.

“Does your girlfriend work at the mall?” He gave her a withering stare.

“Don’t have a girlfriend.” She grinned.

“You so do. You know, I heard her sneaking in here a few months ago. I know that you sneak out to go and see her.” Billy flushed. “And it’s always the same voice, so don’t lie and say it’s different girls you perv.”

“Shut up, Maxine.”

“Make me, William.” He stamped his foot like a little kid.

“That’s it! No more mall for you today. I’m just gonna go by myself.” She blocked him in the doorway.

“Just tell me her name.” He shook his head.

“Fine. Tell me where she works and El and I will leave you two alone.” He shifted his jaw around.

“She works at Scoops Ahoy?”

“Isn’t that where Steve works?”

“He introduced us.”

But, But that didn’t add up. Billy had been seeing this girl long before Steve started working there. Maybe they knew each other before? No, Steve famously didn’t have any friends besides the party when Billy started sneaking around with that gir-

And then it hit her.

The fucking sweatshirt.

The Hawkins High Swim Team sweatshirt.

Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.

She almost threw up.

Steve was her brother’s secret girlfriend. How did she not fucking see this.

“Cool. We’ll let you two be gross or whatever.”

He gave her a tiny smile. She was trying her best not to scream.

Hopper dropped El off and Billy drove them to the mall, let Max pick the music and at one point, had even hummed along to the Hall & Oates song. Fucking Rich Girl.

She pulled El along to The Gap when they hit the mall, Billy making a beeline for Scoops.

“We’re gonna spy on Billy.” El just smiled slyly and nodded vigorously.

They crouched behind plants out in front of Scoops, could just hear Billy talking to Steve’s coworker.

“Dingus, your homoerotic rival turned lover is here.” Steve’s shoes squeaked as he launched himself from the back room. Max’s hands were clammy. She was right.

“Don’t be so loud, Rob.”

“There’s no one here.” Max heard a sound like something being hit dully. Steve yelped. Billy just slapped his ass. “But, you are not allowed to leave me for more than your fifteen. Not like last week. The rush came and I was alone for an hour, Steve. An hour.”

“O-kay, Rob. We’ll be quick.”

“And disinfect any surface you two fuck on. I refuse to touch that.” Billy roared with laughter as Steve squawked indignantly. Max peeked up to watch Steve drag Billy into the backroom. Billy grinned at Robin, a really nice, happy smile before turning to Steve.

[brianc521]

Confidence | Raul Mendes

This is what happens when I read a smutty series all day. Meet Raul Mendes, one of the Mendes Triplets. 

Warning: Smutty intentions 

How Raul ended up with you, no one knew, not even you. You were the most quiet, sweetest, bookworm on campus. Those who knew you knew you as the girl who would let anyone copy her notes because she felt like if anyone needed help and they felt the need to ask her then she should help. Those who didn’t know you still had heard of you has the one who sat in the back corner of the library, weirdly with a book in your hand instead of a laptop on your lap. 

Raul though?

Everyone knew him as the good time. He was in a frat with his brothers, Shawn and Peter. As triplets they couldn’t be any more opposite each other. Raul was the guy who was known as the party animal that brought at least three kegs to each party. He was known as the guy who scored three girls during parents weekend, not only with his parents but all three of the girls parents on campus. 

If anyone were to guess they would assume if you were to be with one of the triplets you’d be with Peter. He was the quiet one. The soft one. He focused on his studies, he read weird books. He was more your speed. 

Those would say that even Shawn was a stretch for you. Shawn was like almost a perfect medium between his brothers. He had this cutting edge to him because he was in a band, and wore sleeveless tank tops, he had tattoos and his ears pierced. At the same time he cared for everyone around him, worked for charities and brought a big ass teddy bear and roses for his girlfriend on Valentine's day. 

So when Raul walked hand in hand with you to class, kissed you at the door and pulled you back for one more hug and kiss when you tried to walk away made everyone’s head turn. It just didn’t make sense. 

Most of all? It left you lost most of the time. Raul was walking whiplash. He’d punch a guy for looking at you funny and then turn around with a baby voice asking if he could be the little spoon. 

“Babe did you finish that essay you were working on?” He asked as he shut his door behind him. Trying his best to block out the noise of not only his brothers but his frat brothers. 

“Yeah, I finished it this morning during your exam.” You answered, voice so soft he almost couldn’t hear you over Shawn’s music in the room next to his. 

“So what I’m hearing is that you’re free of homework tonight?” Raul grinned, setting the cup of hot chocolate he just made you down on his nightstand, taking hold of your ankle and pulling you to him on his bed. 

You squealed at the sudden movement, giggling when his hand slid up your calf to the back of your knee, biting into his bottom lip, playing with his lip ring, as he stared down at you. 

You were in your ripped jeans, his plain grey crew neck that had burn holes on the left collarbone. Your hair was in a messy ponytail, bangs clipped back, face bare of makeup.

His eyes raked up and over your body as he breathed heavily.

“What are you thinking?” You whispered. 

“I’m thinking you look really good laid out on my bed.” He answered licking his lips before leaning down over your body. His lips were on your neck in a fury. They were hot and slick, but the cold of his lip ring caused this sensation through your body. It made you gasp and reach up to comb your fingers through his shaggy curly hair. 

His hand on the back of your knee guided your leg up to hook onto his waist, once there his hand was sliding up your thigh and right has he was gonna slip his hand up and under your ass there was a bump that thudded against his wall, causing you both to look up. You both waited a beat and he looked back down at you.

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” He shook his head, praying to god it wasn’t what he thought it was.

“Are you sure?” 

“Totally.” He nodded. “Focus on me.” He hummed, this time kissing your lips in hopes of distracting you from the noise, that was until it happened again. This time with three bumps in a row followed by a loud scream of Shawn’s name. 

Raul dropped his head against your chest, groaning when you pushed him away. 

“Fucking Shawn,” He muttered under his breath as you sat up. He jumped to action when he felt you crawling out of his bed. “Hey,” He caught your hand. “Where are you going? Come here.” 

“I should um,” You swallowed when a high pitched moan sounded. “I need to go.” 

“No Baby.” Raul shook his head. “Don’t, we’re both finally free on the same night. I’m sorry about that, but I’ll put on a movie and we’ll cuddle.” 

“No it’s okay.” You grabbed your bag. “I need to study for an exam I have next week, and I’m sure there’s a party your skipping out on.” 

“No.” He shook his head. “If you don’t want to stay here then we’ll go back to yours.”

“Katie’s at mine.” You shrugged, using your roommate as an excuse. 

“Then let’s go somewhere else.” He suggested.

“Where?”

“I could get us a hotel.” 

You stared at him for a moment, shaking your head. “Raul, you know…”

He sat at the edge of his bed reaching for your hand to pull you closer to him. You stood between his legs, where he looked up at you. “I know what?” He whispered. 

“You know nothing would happen right?” 

“Mhm.” He nodded, reaching up to caress your cheek. 

“So what would be the point?” 

He smiled softly, eyes going soft, tonguing the metal in his lip. “The point?” He said softly, watching you nod. “The point would be getting to spend the night with my love. To hold you all night, cuddle you, feel like we’re in our own world, our own bubble. With no roommates, no shitty dorm food, and no annoying ass brothers having a sexfest next door.”

You giggled at that and shake your head. “I don’t want you to waste your money like that.”

“It’s not a waste, I really want to.” He pleaded. 

“I’m not worth it.” You whispered, shrugging.

His eyes went hard, brows furrowing, lips pursing. “Of course you’re worth it. How could you ever say that to me? Of course you’re worth it. You’re worth it Baby. I promise you that. Let’s pack a bag and we’ll go.” He stood.

“I don’t have clothes here.” 

“Borrow mine.” 

“Raul.” You sighed, not thinking this was a good idea, surely he’d regret this by the end of the night. 

“Baby, if we get into the room and you’re uncomfortable at any moment I’ll drive you back to your dorm okay? But I want to spend the night with you. I want to watch your favorite Rom Coms and eat a bunch of junk food. I want to hold you and snuggle you, and I really want to see you in only my clothes. I want to share a bed with you, and sleep with you on my chest all night.” 

You blushed at his words, nodding at him and walking up to him to plant a small kiss to his cheek. “Okay.” 

“Okay good.” He huffs. “Now you start packing while I go to the bathroom to get that stuff, I have an extra toothbrush you can have.” 

You nodded and watched as he walked out of the room, being sure to close the door behind him. Raul did a little happy dance once he got to the hallway, and knocked on the door to the bathroom. 

“Just a sec.” Shawn called. 

As Shawn opened the bathroom door, Peter was just stepping out of his bedroom. 

“Hey,” Shawn ran a hand through his sweaty hair, chest heaving. 

“Gross.” Raul gagged, Peter following along. 

“Y’all are jealous.” Shawn grinned. 

“No, we’re revolted.” Peter responded, both brothers watching as Raul grabbed his toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and an extra toothbrush from the drawer. “You going somewhere?” 

“Yeah.” Raul smiled walking out of the bathroom.

“Where?” Shawn asked. 

“To a hotel.” 

“Why?” Peter grabbed his shoulder to stop him. 

“Um well, Y/n was finally getting a little more comfortable with me.” He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck, cheeks blushing red. 

“Intimately?” Shawn asked softly, all boys knowing the ins and outs of their relationships. 

“Yeah, that was until someone was having their own intimate time.” Raul glared at Shawn. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah ‘oh’ she tried to go but I was able to convince her to go with me to a hotel.”

“Are you finally gonna?” Peter asked. 

Raul rolled his eyes. “No, and would you two stop saying ‘finally’ like it’s annoying we haven’t. I’m happy, really happy, and I don’t want to pressure her. She’s everything to me. I just want some alone time with her, in peace. I don’t want roommates coming home and trying to join our movie marathon. I really don’t want bed posts banging into the wall and my brothers girlfriend moaning so loud I can barely hear my own girlfriend.” 

Shawn smiles bashfully, looking down to the floor. 

“So we’re going to a hotel for a night to ourselves, maybe I can get her comfortable again and maybe we’ll talk. Maybe we’ll stay two nights. I don’t know, all I know is I want her in any way she’ll give me.” 

All three boys stood straight when they heard Raul’s door open. “Oh, hi.” You blushed embarrassed you’d caught them in conversation. “Um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to pack your laptop?”

Raul smiled at your pink cheeks, “No Baby I think we’ll be okay. They have TV’s there.” 

You looked to the floor embarrassed at how stupid your question sounds out loud. “Right, sorry.” You said, looking back to his room. “Carry on.” 

Raul noticed how you wouldn’t look at either of them, and how you curled in on yourself when Shawn’s girlfriend exited his room in nothing but Shawn’s t shirt and walked straight into the bathroom. 

“Hey,” He whispered, getting you to look up at him. “Still with me?” 

You nodded, turning quickly and hightailing back to his room. 

“Have a nice night,” Raul said to his brothers, following his girl back into his room to find you sitting on his bed with your head in your hands. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked kneeling in front of you.

“Does it bother you that I’m not like that?” You ask looking up at him with insecurity in your eyes.

“Like what?” 

“Like that?” You point to his door. 

“Like what?” He asks again.

“Like her?” 

Raul was completely lost, in what you were saying, in the situation. “Okay Baby,” He took your hands. “I’m gonna be a dumb guy for a moment.” He intertwined his fingers with yours. “Like who?” 

“Carla?” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “Carla?” His face pinched. “Shawn’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay I’m still gonna be a dumb guy. What are you asking me?” 

“Do you ever wish I was confident like her? That I would let you fuck me in a house full of boys, including your brothers? That I would walk out of your room in just your shirt?”

He stared at you like you’d grown two heads.

“Listen to me.” He shook his head. “I’m in love with you. I’m in love with everything about you. Do I ever wish you were different? Fuck no, please excuse my language.” He kissed your hands. “This you right here in front of me, is the you I want for the rest of my life. Please don’t ever think that I want different, because I don’t.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I am 1000% sure, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more.” 

You sat there for a moment and stewed on his words before sighing. “I packed an extra pair of your boxers to wear to bed tonight. Is that okay?”

He laughed, hanging his head. “Yeah Babygirl, that’s perfect.” 

“Okay, well are you ready?”

“I didn’t pack.” He looked up at you. 

“I packed for you.” 

“Okay well then let me throw this stuff in the bag and we can go.”

**

Raul wrapped his arms around you from behind as you took in the view from the large windows in your room. You knew this room had to of cost him a pretty penny but he was determined not to let you know how much.

“Raul, this is too much.” 

“It’s not enough.” His words are muffled by your shoulder since his lips were planting kisses there. 

“I love you.” You whispered, smiling wider when he squeezed you tighter. 

“I love you so much Babygirl.” 

You didn’t use those words often, actions spoke louder for you, but you knew how much they meant to him and felt the need in this moment. 

“But I’m so tired.” You whined, leaning back against him. 

“Then get changed, and we’ll watch movies until you fall asleep.” He kissed a string of kisses up your neck.

He turned the TV on, logging into his Netflix account and selecting your profile so he could choose from one of the movies you’d saved. He was in bed, under the covers, in a t shirt and his sleep pants when you walked out, a pair of his boxers hanging off your hips, arms crossed across your chest as you were only wearing your bra. 

“Um,” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Can I wear your shirt?” 

His eyes were wide, and he had to swallow twice to get control over himself. He has yet to see you shirtless so to watch you walk out in only your lacy bra and his boxers had him chubbing. 

He whipped his shirt off his frame holding it out to you, not saying a word. You grinned when you took it from him, never losing eye contact with him as you slipped it on, and then wordlessly reaching up the back unclipping your bra with one hand and pulling the straps off through the sleeves. He gulped when you tugged your bra off, throwing it towards the bag on the side of the room. 

“It’s pretty.” He murmured.

“What is?” 

“Your bra.” 

You laughed, crawling into bed. 

“And you said you weren’t confident.” He stared at you with wide eyes.

“I’m not.” 

“That was so extremely hot, your confidence right then was-,” He shook his head. 

“Really?” 

“Mhm.” He looked back at the screen, freezing as you got closer to him. “Give me a minute.” 

“What?” It was then that you realized what was going on. “Oh my god, really?” 

Raul looked over at you, “Really what?” He asked breathlessly. 

You looked away as you asked this question, embarrassed you were asking at all. “Did I make you hard?”

Raul groaned and rolled away. “I’m sorry.” 

You watched him as he buried his face into the pillow. “Why are you apologizing?” You laughed.

He rolled over to his back, peering at you. “I don’t want to pressure you.” 

“You’re not.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“So sure Baby.” You climbed up and swung a leg over his waist, straddling him. 

“This isn’t helping me.” 

“Maybe I might wanna help you in another way.” 

“Good lord.” He wheezed when your fingers ran down his chest and dipped into his sleep pants. “You really are trying to kill me eh?” 

“You really liked my bra huh?” 

“I really like you, let’s get that clear.”

“This hasn’t happened-” 

He leaned up, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Baby,” He shook his head. “You make me hard all the time, trust me.” He nodded. “I just don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want to do so I um, take care of things on my own.” 

“Really? All the time?” 

“Babe, I popped a boner in class last week when you gave your presentation because you were wearing my hoodie and had my hickey on your neck.” 

You blushed and looked down at his torso. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.”

“You um,” You take a breath, “You turn me on too.” You whisper, looking up into his eyes. 

“Yeah?” He asks softly. 

“Yeah.” You nod, deciding to be bold for a moment. 

You reach out and grab his hand, guiding it into his boxers on your hips, letting him feel your wet heat. He groaned low and that did things to you you never thought possible. “God you’re really wet.” He growled. 

“Because of you.” You whisper. 

His eyes were dilated with want and desire and he was fighting every cell in his being to not flip you over and have his nasty way with you. 

“Raul.” You gripped his wrist tighter.

“Yeah Baby?” 

“Will you-”

“Will I what?” 

“Will you show me how to be confident?” 

He stared at you. “Baby you are confident. Look at you.”

“Then will you, will you teach me how to be confident while we-”

“Use your words Baby.” 

“While we make love?” 

His eyes flared with intense fire and he growled as he flipped you over. “Oh god honey you’re gonna kill me.” 

“Is that good?” You asked softly. 

“So good.” He inhaled your scent. “I’m gonna go slow, I want this special. Please talk me through it too okay? I want all your thoughts, your wants, desires.” He stared into your eyes. 

**

Raul woke up with a big smile on his face, his arms wrapped around you, face nuzzled into your neck. He squeezed you tight for a moment, inhaling deeply as the sunrise brightens the room. You shift a bit, unaware that he’s awake. 

“Good morning Beautiful.” His gravelly morning voice greets you. 

“Morning.” You smile, interlocking your fingers with his that are on your stomach. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks you, kissing at your neck. 

“I’m deliciously sore.” 

“That’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard.” 

You giggle and roll over to face him, taking in his sleep swollen eyes, red kissed swollen lips, and pink blushed cheeks.

“So if I told you I booked the room for the weekend would you stay with me again tonight?” He asks.

“And if I told you I packed us enough clothes for the weekend would you accept that as my answer?” 

[princecharmingmendes]

Valentine's Day | Shawn Mendes

“Valentine’s Day is always hard for some people that are single, but it’s harder you have a loved one that’s on another country, but lucky you, he always had his ways of making everything better”

Hiiii! I’m going to try to post this weekend other to Valentine’s Day oneshot, but the other two will be  one with Raul and the other with Peter, they’ll all be called the same {Valentine’s Day} and that’s it, hope you guys like it!

                                         Peter  |  Raul (coming soon)

Word Count: 3.7K+

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex and a lot of fluffy boyfriend material Shawn.

Posted: February 15th, 2020.

                                                        -*-

  You love Shawn with every single cell in your body. I mean, how could you not? He’s everything anyone could possibly ever want. He’s the kindest, sweetest and most loving person you’ve ever met, he would literally run a marathon barefoot just to put a smile on your face and he would say that to anyone who was close enough to hear it. You’ve met him three years ago and been together practically all these time. You two met at a common friend’s birthday party and he couldn’t stop talking to you or trying so ridiculously hard to make you giggle just to hear it, at the end of the night, you had a date on the next day. And you couldn’t stop seeing him ever since and it was magical, for the first two months.

I mean, not that he changed or something, he’s still the same doofus cheesy 6’3 guy I fell for, it’s just that he’s not just Shawn, he’s Shawn fucking Mendes, a sweetheart with two identical brothers and a rockstar for a living.

The only thing that makes it hard is when he’s away. He tries his best to compensate with FaceTime calls and sending me surprise gifts and stuff, but that doesn’t make things easier. He also suffers from it, even though he doesn’t want me to see that or to think that, I know he does, his parents and friends told me that sometimes it gets harder for him and he just spends the hold day in a bad mood. But still, whenever he’s back from the road, everything’s better and it’s lime he never left. He clings to me like a giant teddy bear and follows me around like a lost puppy and I’d do anything he asks me with those hazel orbits and when he holds me, I just know things are going to be okay.

But right now, things don’t seem to be okay. 

I mean, between us, things are great, he’s been as present as he could as he was working his ass off in LA on his next album. But on the rest, it was all just a big mess. My parents are constantly screaming at each other due to a family thing on dad’s side, my brother left the house for college recently and wasn’t actually talking to anyone and work and college were trying to kill me, and the cherry on top was this  stupid project I had to finish and publish that was a huge part of my final grade. Everything’s falling apart and I haven’t been able to talk to my boyfriend for real for like, two days. I know it’s ridiculous, but I needed so bad just to hear him saying “you’re going to be okay, honey, you’re the smartest person I know”. But I can’t call him and stuff his head with my shitty problems, I don’t want to keep his mind away from his work. So I called his brothers instead.

Peter told me he could stop by at the end of the night if I felt like I needed help, and Raul offered to take me out to dinner to relax a bit since I’ve been going mad over this. And I love them for trying, but it’s simply not the same thing. So that’s why I’m sitting in Shawn’s living room (since he asked me to move in the past month and I did) surrounded by papers, textbooks and my computer on my lap, running my temples and trying to get some work going when my phone started ringing and my computer screen stopped working, Shawn’s face appeared all over it as he called me on FaceTime.

“Hey” I said as soon as I picked it up.

“Hey, baby, God, I missed your pretty face”

“You called me two days ago, weirdo”

“Still missed you tough”

“Okay, so... what’s up?”

“Hm, nothing, just got back to the apartment and I’m so tired and I miss you”

“I miss you too, kinda wish you were here”

“I’ll be back soon, I promise”

“I know” I said sighing and placing a few strands that fell of my messy bun behind my ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Just some stupid project”

“Apparently not that nice”

“No, it sucks, I have to submit it until noon”

“Tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah”

“Oh shit, am I interrupting? Shit, I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t even considered the possibility of you being busy or something, I just needed to see you”

“No, hey, it’s okay, I was about to take a break, it’s okay”

“Sorry, I’m so sorry”

“Hey, bubs, it’s okay”

“Okay, so what are you doing tomorrow after submitting it?”

“I’m gonna go grab lunch with Peter and then work, probably later than I should, but you know my boss and his lovely situation with his ex, so he’ll probably keep us late due to Valentine’s Day to keep his mind busy, but after that, Raul is coming over for dinner since he’s single and you’re not here, Pete’s got a date”

“With that girl he likes?”

“Yeah, that’s the one”

“I think he’ll actually have something with her”

“So do I! He’s very happy whenever he talks to her or about her”

“He’s Peter”

“That’s true, what about you?”

“Me? Oh, just work stuff, I was curious about you to see if I could call you or something, but you seem to have way to many plans”

“No, you can call me after I leave work, I can text you, letting you know when I park or leave work so you can call me, Raul wouldn’t mind”

“I doubt that, but I don’t really care about what he thinks about it, text me when you leave work and I’ll call you”

“Okay, any new songs to show me?”

“Not yet, I want you to see only the finished product”

“Boring”

“You still love me” he sang song and I couldn’t stop myself from giggling at his boyish side.

“Bubs, I’m so sorry, but I gotta hang up, Kate’s calling me to help out with a thing I’m struggling with” I said sighing as my phone started ringing again.

“Hey, it’s okay, I should probably try to get some sleep, I have to be up early due to a meeting”

“Yeah, so should I but... Not finished, no sleeping” I said motioning to the paper on my lap.

“You should really try to sleep, honey, it’s late and I’m pretty sure the project is practically done, you’re just attached to details”

“Oh, you know me so well”

“Of course I do, I’m your boyfriend after all”

“That’s true, okay, I really gotta go now, Shawn, I’m so sorry”

“Don’t apologize, there’s nothing wrong, now stop worrying, add your finishing touches and go to bed”

“Okay, sir, goodnight”

“Goodnight, baby, I love you” he said chuckling.

“I love you too” I said smiling at the camera before hanging up, trying to call Kate back to get some help with some of the things I was not happy about before I could fall asleep.

                                                       -*-

Waking up on the other day was torturous since of the lack of sleep, but stepping outside was worse. I don’t get bitter on seeing other people happy, I really don’t, but seeing couples with flowers and holding hands broke my heart into a million pieces, because that was just a reminder that I wasn’t going to see Shawn for another week, which meant he was away for a month already. And it was everywhere.

When I was able to just hand my teachers a copy of the project and leave, it was like a thousand pounds left my shoulders and I could finally breath again, so I fished my phone from my pocket to text Shawn, but finding out he had already texted me early in the morning. This paper was eating me alive and I didn’t even noticed ‘till now.

“Hey, can you talk?” I said as soon as Shawn picked up the phone.

“Yeah, anything wrong?”

“No, everything went smooth apparently, I just left college and I’m going to meet up with Pete now”

“That’s great! Are you feeling better now?”

“So much better, I just called you to thank you for... I don’t know, being so supportive, I guess, and for texting me ‘good luck’ this morning”

“Oh, sure, that’s my job!”

“No it’s not, you’re just perfect and I fucking love you”

“Love you too, baby, but I gotta run now, I’m sorry”

“No, it’s okay, I’m sorry, I won’t hold you back”

“You don’t, relax for a bit, and thank you for calling me, I love hearing your voice, and soon I’ll hear it again personally”

“You’re too cheesy for your own goo, Mendes, goodbye” I said and I head his laugh through the phone, making me smile almost instantaneously.

“Bye, honey” he said hanging up.

                                                       -*-

The rest of the day was fine. Lunch with Peter is always amazing, he always now crazy and random facts about everything and he is way too sweet. Going to work sucked a bit cause my boss was being a bitch the whole day and just finding flaws were there weren’t any, but nothing that I couldn’t handle. When I left, I went to a grocery shop to buy some stuff for my dinner with Raul that he asked and sent a message to Shawn telling him I was going to be home in thirty minutes, and he replied with a simple ‘kay, baby, talk to you later’, which I found weird but tried not to read too much into it. He was probably busy anyways.

But what sucked was parking at the garage and calling Raul, only to find out he was not going to make it.

“Hey, Raul, I just got home and I can start the food if you want”

“Oh shit, I completely forgot to tell you”

“Tell me what?”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Y/N, but this kid come into work today and his situation is pretty bad, I can’t leave him alone, I’m so damn sorry, I... shit, I don’t even know what to say!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s not your fault and I’m not mad, you’re not bailing to go drink or something, you’re working and saving a child’s life, Raul, chill, dude, I’m not mad!”

“Thank you so much, you’re the best, I gotta go now, Y/N, again, I’m so incredibly sorry, thank you so much, bye” he said hanging up.

“Bye” I said into the empty lot and opening the door to grab my bags.

I pressed the button of the elevator and got in, holding the bags with one hand to text Shawn with the other one a quick ‘hey, Raul’s not coming, I’m at the elevator, you can call me anytime you can now xx’. When I got to my floor, my phone started ringing and it was Kate calling, so I picked it up.

“Hey, Y/N, are you busy?”

“No, it’s okay, how are you? By the way, thank you so much for the help yesterday, I really appreciate it” I said as I placed the phone between my cheek/ear and my shoulder to fish the keys in my bag.

“Oh, I’m fine, thanks, so... I’m calling you exactly because of the project”

“Oh really” I felt my heart going to a stop “something wrong?”

“The only think wrong with your project is in your extremely perfectionist brain, dummy”

“What do you mean, Kate?” I said finally being able to place the key on the lock and turn it.

“Bitch, you got an A, YOU GOT AN A, do you know what that means?! Your project is perfect! You don’t even need to do the test if you don’t want to! God, I hate you so much right now”

“Holy shit, Kate! Are you kidding me?! How do you know that?!”

“Mr. Saltzman just published the grades”

“I can’t believe it!”

“I know! And you know what happens to people who get an A on this thing?! YOUR ARTICLE IS GOING TO BE PUBLISHED! I’m so damn proud of you”

“I can’t believe it” I said finally getting out of my trance with a wide smile on my face as I got into the condo, closing the door right behind me, still trying to balance everything I was holding and lock the damn door.

“I know, I mean...”

“Wait a second, Kate” I interrupted her as soon as I heard a noise coming from the empty apartment “I think I heard something.

“Is everything okay? Where are you?”

“I just got home and I heard something, but the door was locked, so I don’t know, it’s probably nothing, I’m just overreacting” I said as I paced to the kitchen to get rid of the grocery bags, my heels echoing on the empty rooms.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to come over?”

“No, it’s oka... shit” I said as I almost dropped my phone and I suddenly felt the bags being pulled from my arms  from behind, I was at the verge of losing my shit when I saw his reflex on the big window on his kitchen

Standing behind me was the 6’3 rockstar teddy bear that I got to call mine holding the bags that were almost falling from my arms for me as I just stared at him completely shocked. He just grinned at me through the reflection and I almost lost it, but kept frozen in place.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” Kate’s voice sounded clear now through the phone.

“Oh shit, sorry, Kate, I almost dropped my phone and I... I gotta go, I just found out Shawn’s home, I, I’ll talk to you later, bye” I said as I hung up, turning around in shock as I stared at him.

“Hi” he said barely louder then a whisper, placing the bags on the counter and picking up the bouquet of tulips that he picked up from the counter.

I couldn’t even understand what was happening, but my body decided to take the natural lead and jump on him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face on his neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around me to keep me off the ground and in his embrace. I wrapped my legs around his torso and just took my time to process the information that he was actually here, with me. When I finally pulled back from his neck, I could only stare at his eyes that were already on me, with a look of pure love and adoration, so I just did what felt right, I crashed my lips on his. And all was right in the world again. The kiss was so passionate and so in sync that only made the fuzzy warm feeling I always have when I’m around him intensify a million times. I only noticed that I was crying when I felt his hand coming up to caress my cheek softly while his other arm kept me tightly in place.

“What the hell, Shawn?” I asked as soon as I pulled back for air.

“Hi, lover, I love you too and missed you lots”

“You do know I love you and you also know I missed you so bad, but what the hell? Weren’t you supposed to come home only in a week?”

“Well, that’s what everybody told you cause I asked them, you really thought I was going to leave you here alone in Valentine’s Day?!”

“Wait a second, Mendes, everybody knew you’re coming home today?!”

“Uh yeah?”

“So Raul wasn’t going to be with me at all?!”

“Nope” he said popping the ‘P’.

“Did he lie to me about being at work?”

“No, but he also never cancelled his shift today to be with you”

“So why the heck did he sent me grocery... is that why I have all the ingredients for chocolate chip muffins?!”

“Uh, maybe?” Shawn said with a sheepish smile on his face “don’t get mad at me, I wanted to surprise you”

“Mad at you? How could I be mad at you, bubs?”

“I don’t know, I can do some pretty stupid things”

“That’s true”

“Outch, you weren’t supposed to agree to that”

“Sorry, but I thought we didn’t lie to each other”

“Okay, I’m going back to LA” he said threatening to let me go.

“No! I’m kidding, I love you and you know I can never get mad at you, cause even though you make same stupid things, they’re never harmful and always innocent, so no, I’m not mad at you”

“Good, cause I have a whole night planned”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t like to go out, so I grabbed your favorite Italian dish, you bought the wine, I’ve set up our room, we can take a bath and then cuddle while we watch Harry Potter or Grey’s Anatomy and eat our food, then we’ll go to bed and I’ll cuddle the fuck out of you”

“You’re so weird, dude” I said and he chuckled, placing me on the ground again, but still not letting go of me.

“Yeah? Then why are still with me?”

“Because you’re the Shawn Mendes” I said and he laughed holding me tighter.

“Is that all?”

“Well, pretty much, of course, you’re pretty and stuff, but yeah, your career is all that matters to me”

“Thought it was my bank account... so if I go ugly and my voice disappears you’ll dump me?”

“Obviously” I said tapping his strong chest playfully and he held my wrists, bringing my hands up to kiss they’re back, so I took the opportunity to cup his jaw gently “but for real now, I don’t care if you loose your career, bank account and all your hair, it wouldn’t change a thing for me. Of course it’s amazing to be dating someone who gets to play in sold out arenas and travel around the world with a guitar case in his hands, you’re really talented and I’ve told you a million times that you always mesmerize me with everything you put on, you’re fascinating for sure”

“Thank you” he mouthed in the middle of my speech and I couldn’t contain myself from standing on the tippy toes of my shoes to place a sweet peck on his lips.

“Where was I?” I asked as soon as I pulled away “oh yeah, but honestly? That’s not what’s best about you. You’ve got the kindest soul I’ve ever met, you’re so caring and loving, you always put everyone that matters first and always makes me feel special, even on the toughest days, you do not measure consequences when it comes to pleasing someone you love and also, you’re the best person I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky to able to call you love of my life, I love you, Shawn Mendes, not only for the fame and the amazing...”

“...sex?” he suggested with a smirk on his face.

“Well, no, but that’s actually right as well. Anyone, and the amazing music you make, but for the real Shawn, the guy the grew up in Pickering and that watches rom-coms for a living” I said and he smiled softly, attaching his lips to mine again in a sweet kiss.

“I was the one supposed to make you a speech, I was not expecting that but thank you” he said kissing my forehead “ and also, thank you for being patient with me and allowing this relationship to work out”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything” I said softly as I caressed his cheek with my thumb “thank YOU, Shawn”

He smiled down at me and kissed me again, this time, deepening the kiss faster than before, quickly grabbing the back of my thighs and picking me up as he licked into my mouth, making my head go dizzy with the sensations.

                                                       -*-

After the bath, pretend to watch whatever we picked to put on the TV while we made up for the lost time on his couch and then ate or food to recover, we finally decided to head back to our room, cause after all, he got on a plane today to see me and my work was exhausting. We were laying in bed, Shawn in his underwear, and me in only his shirt laying half on top of him. He was gently running his fingers through my hair as I drew mindless circles on his bare abs, minds far away as we laid close just enjoying each other’s warmth and company.

“I forgot to get your present, it’s on my suitcase” he said more to himself then to me.

“You shouldn’t have”

“Ooh, shush, I like to buy you presents and spoil you, and you never allow me to do so, I just have to grab every opportunity I have”

“Fair enough, yours are on the closet”

“We can do that tomorrow when I’m making you breakfast”

“You?”

“Yeah, learned how to do pancakes!”

“Really?! I’m so proud of you, bubs” I said and he smiled, kissing my forehead.

“Thank you”

“Hey, Shawn” I said lowly after a while, breaking the silence again “thank you so much for coming home and doing all of this, it means the world to me, every single detail was perfect, and I can’t believe you actually bought me tulips! They mean...”

“They mean ‘declaration of love’” he said complementing what I was going to say “yeah, I know, Peter helped out on that one, not gonna lie”

“Just the fact that you took your time on asking what each flower meant it’s enough to make me love you even more” I said pecking his soft lips delicately.

“You should sleep, honey, you seemed tired when you arrived”

“I am”

“So sleep, I’ll still be home when you wake up”

“Do you promise?” I asked nuzzling my face further on his collarbone.

“I promise” he said softly “I promise I’ll always come home to you, happy valentine’s day, honey” were the last words I heard before I drifted off to dreamland, in the arms of the man I love with every single cell of my body.

                                                       -*-

Happy belated Valentine's Day!

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, I had to finish this in rush to post it on time.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

... : @fivefeetapartt

[let-it-raines]

all for a 56-pack of crayons

Prompt which has obviously been a little modified because of who I am as a person: “I was bartending at an Italian restaurant and it’s pretty much full of valentine dates. A guy walks in and sits at the bar by himself. He had come to the city to surprise his girlfriend for valentine’s day (about a five-hour bus trip between cities) and he sure surprised her. she was in her dorm room fucking one of his friends from high school”

so @shireness-says​ sent me the above prompt a dreadfully long time ago, and I was going to write it for her birthday. I missed that date by a few weeks, but who doesn’t love a late birthday gift? Keeping the party going! 🎉 

found on ao3 | here |

-/-

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“This,” Emma says, motioning out to all of the people in front of her. “People can go on dates every day of the year, but everyone in all of Portland is here tonight.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Mary Margaret sighs, a goofy little smile on her face that’s always there when she’s talking or thinking about love. It’d be obnoxious if she wasn’t so damn charming. Or nice. Charming is really more of David’s thing. “People like to go on dates on Valentine’s Day.”

“Because it’s a – ”

“Societal construct. Yes, I know. You’ve said that once or twice.”

Emma rolls her eyes and grabs the bottle of wine she was looking for. “Look, all I’m saying is that if you think proposing to your girlfriend on Valentine’s Day is romantic, you’ve got issues. There are a lot of days of the year, make another one of them special.”

“Emma.”

“I’ve got to go serve table ten. He’s got a ring being put in a dessert. Be right back.”

Mary Margaret isn’t behind the bar when Emma gets back. She’s probably off trying to help some teenagers flirt or listening to some couple’s love story. She’s very into romance and candy hearts and the whole big thing. It’s like this every year, but Emma can’t blame her, not really. Mary Margaret has been with David since they were fifteen years old, and her entire life is some kind of candy heart and giant teddy bear holding red roses world. There are obviously a few pieces of melted chocolate and fallen rose petals in there, but overall, she’s never had a reason to be sick of love and this holiday that just makes single people feel shitty about themselves.

“Whatever your strongest rum is, I want that.”

Emma turns to see a man sliding down at the barstool in front of her. No one is sitting up here tonight. Everyone is in the booths and at the tables, so what the hell is this guy doing up here?

Alone.

She quickly glances over him. He’s got on a white button-down, the top few buttons undone, and a leather jacket on top of it. His hair is messy, like he’s been running his hands through it, and Emma can’t tell whether he just doesn’t know how to do his hair or if he’s one of those guys who tries to artfully mess his hair up. From everything else about his looks, he’s definitely a guy who tries to do that.

You don’t look like him and wear a leather jacket if you don’t know you’re attractive.

The blue eyes alone could probably get half the girls in here into bed with him.

Woah, Emma.

That’s definitely taking her judgment of people a little too far.

“You don’t want something specific?” Emma asks him.

“Whatever can get me drunk.”

Emma’s brows raise, but she quickly tries to neutralize her face. She judges people all the time, but they can’t know that she judges them. She would lose her tips, and she needs those to live and to pay bills and to be able to buy Henry new shoes and the 56-pack of crayons he wants that has all of the specialized colors.

“I am technically not supposed to encourage a customer to get drunk, but I will get that rum for you.”

“Thank you, lass.”

Emma bends down and searches through their shelf of rum, pulling out a bottle that won’t break the guy’s bank but that tastes good enough, and pours him a glass. “You need anything else?”

“Do you serve food up here?”

“We do, but sir, if you’re here for a date, I’m afraid – ”

The man downs his drink before slamming the glass against the bar top. He winces and then adjusts the tumbler.

“I’m not here for a date. I’m simply here for some food and a few more glasses of rum.”

“I’m not supposed to let you have enough to get drunk. I wasn’t kidding about that.”

“Lucky for you, I have a high tolerance.”

Emma’s eyes roll, and she turns away to hide that before grabbing a menu off the shelf and then handing it to him. “You can look through this, and then when you’re ready, I’ll send your order back to the kitchen.”

“Thanks, love.”

“Not your love.”

Oh shit. She shouldn’t get snippy with him. She was just thinking about how she needs the tips.  

56 pack of crayons and all.

“Sorry,” Emma mumbles. “Force of habit.”

“You have a lot of people call you love? I didn’t know there was such a British population in Portland.”

“I have a lot of people call me by pet names,” Emma corrects, forcing her smile back onto her face. “Baby, sweetheart, honey, whatever else men can come up with when they’re trying to hit on me.”

The man nods and places his hand on the counter. She glances down at the movement, notices the fact that he has a glove on just that one hand, and as much as she is curious, she’s sure as hell not about to ask. Her five-year-old might ask, but she’s decidedly not five and has better manners than that.

“I apologize, love. Fuck. Didn’t mean to say that.”

Emma chuckles and turns around to get him a glass of water. She should have already done that, but she got distracted. “It’s Emma. Emma Swan. I’m sorry for not telling you my name earlier. I should have as soon as you sat down. I seem to be off my game tonight.”

“Killian Jones.”

She turns around with his water and puts it down. “It’s nice to meet you. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you.”

Emma stays busy for the next hour, serving drinks and doing the take-out orders, and while people come up to the bar, none of them stay. They’re here for a fleeting moment, getting what they need, and then going. She doesn’t mind. It’s busy enough in here that she never stays idle, and if she keeps working, this damn day will be over and she can go home, never thinking of engagement rings and candy hearts again.

A round of applause sounds around the restaurant, and Emma looks up to see a man on his knees and his girlfriend with her hands clasped over her mouth.

“Does that happen often?”

“Huh?”

“The proposal,” Killian explains. “Does that happen often?”

“I’d say we get a proposal in here every two weeks, but on Valentine’s Day? At least ten per shift.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Damn.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I take it you’re not a fan of Valentine’s Day.”

“I think it’s cliched, and I’m not really a fan of cliched.”

“Eh, I think it has its pros and cons. A few clichés are good.”

Emma crosses her arms over her chest. “Like what?”

“Surprises, maybe. If you’re in a long-distance relationship and you ride on a train for five-hours to surprise your girlfriend, I imagine that can be a nice, cliched thing.”

“Is that what you did?”

He drinks half of his glass before stabbing a piece of his steak. “Funnily enough, I did.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Well, when I showed up to her apartment, she was fucking my oldest mate.”

Holy shit.

No wonder he wanted the strongest rum they have.

“You’re kidding? You have to be kidding.”

He scoffs and leans back on the stool, a smile curving on his lips while his eyelashes flutter. “I wish I was.”

Emma shakes her head and grabs his bottle, pouring a little more in his glass. “I’m cutting you off after this glass, but this one’s on me.”

“You don’t have to do that, Swan.”

“Look, I may hate Valentine’s Day, but no one deserves that when they were trying to do something romantic. Hell, no one ever deserves that. Unless maybe they’re an asshole.”

“I guess I’m an asshole.”

“I don’t know you well enough to say for sure, but I doubt it.”

“How would you know?”

Emma shrugs. “I call it my superpower. I’ve got an intuition about these types of things.”

“It’s true. She does.” Mary Margaret steps up beside her and leans forward on the counter. “So, I couldn’t help but overhear your story.”

“Marg – ”

Mary Margaret waves her away. “First of all, I’m so sorry. Secondly, I bet you don’t have a place to stay tonight, so why don’t you stay with us?”

Oh hell no.

“Marg,” Emma hisses, pulling Mary Margaret away from the counter and back against the shelves, “what the hell are you doing?”

“He was going to stay with his girlfriend tonight, but now they’ve broken up.”

“He can stay in a hotel.”

“That’ll be so expensive. Come on. We have a couch.”

“I don’t want to have to spend the night with a stranger. That’s not safe.”

“David is a cop.”

“He doesn’t know that. He could still plan on murdering us.”

“Well, I suppose I do now,” Killian says. She and Mary Margaret both turn on their heels to look at him. “Sorry. You’re not exactly in a discreet spot. I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer, lass. I don’t – you’re too kind, but I can’t accept it.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret begs.

“No.���

“Emma.”

“No.”

“I’m Mary Margaret,” she suddenly says, turning to Killian and shaking his hand. “You’ve had a rough night, obviously, and I think you need some homemade brownies. Let me call my boyfriend, and I’ll clear it with him.”

“What about Emma?”

“Ignore her. She’s paranoid that everyone is a serial killer.”

“She has a point.”

“You’re not a serial killer. We can both tell.”

“Love, I really – I cannot impose on you.”

Emma blinks at him, wondering why the hell British people use so many pet names. She’s not sure what the hell is happening. Why is Mary Margaret inviting him to their apartment? Why is she so insistent on it? This isn’t the first time someone has stumbled into the restaurant wanting to get drunk because something shitty has happened, and it certainly won’t be the last.

But Mary Margaret is Mary Margaret, and Emma guesses she’s going to sleep in Henry’s room with the door locked and his dresser pushed up against the door.

Not that she thinks this is a bad guy.

But precautions and all that. She’s not naïve enough to think that everyone she meets is going to be a good person, and she’s not taking a single chance when it comes to Henry.

“You wouldn’t be imposing in the slightest. Our shift finishes at midnight.”

Emma turns around to Mary Margaret and hisses, “if he murders us, I’m coming back to life to kill you again.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

-/-

“So, what do you do?”

“David,” Mary Margaret sighs. “Don’t make him uncomfortable.”

“He’s sleeping on our couch. I can ask him what he does.”

“Be nice.”

“I’m getting my Masters in Civil Engineering at NYU.”

Emma lets out a low whistle before catching herself. Damn. That’s impressive, especially considering she’s currently in a bunch of lit classes with eighteen-year-olds who couldn’t care less about the classes they’re in. They also complain about having class at eight in the morning and then finishing all of their classes by noon, but, really, she can’t be bothered by them too much. If her life had gone the way theirs had, she imagines she would complain about being up at eight in the morning, too.

Hell, she does now. Just for entirely different reasons.

“Something to say about that, love?” Killian asks, both brows raised.

She bites her tongue at the name. He’s been letting them fly for both she and Mary Margaret all night, so it really must be a force of habit and not him trying to get into her pants.

“Not a thing.”

“So what do you plan on doing with that?” David asks Killian.

“Well, I am planning on – ”

“Mom.”

Oh shit.

Emma turns around and sees Henry standing in the hallway. He’s in his pajamas, his hair pushed up from where he’s been sleeping, and he only has one sock on. How the hell does that always happen?

“Kid, what are you doing awake?”

“You guys are loud. Who’s that?”

Emma looks between Henry and Killian, trying to figure out how the hell to explain this to a child.

“A friend,” she quickly answers. “He’s going to sleep on the couch tonight before he leaves in the morning to go back home.”

“Where is he from?”

“New York.”

“How do you know him?”

“Alright,” Emma sighs, going toward Henry and gently placing her hands on his shoulders before guiding him back to his room, closing the door behind them. “It’s late, and you need to go back to bed. We’re going to the playground in the morning, remember?”

“The TV man said it was going to snow.”

“Well, when has a little snow ever stopped us?”

She gets Henry back in bed and cuddles up beside him, tucking him in and fixing his hair before kissing his forehead and sighing. She’s exhausted, desperately needs to be in her own bed, but that probably won’t happen tonight.

“Did you have a good day at school?” Emma whispers while she still strokes Henry’s hair.

“Mhm.”

“Did you give your cards to your class?”

“Yep! Can I eat my candy?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to say no to that one. You’ll get far too much energy, and then you’d have to brush your teeth again.”

“Nooo,” Henry giggles, squirming as Emma runs her fingers over his belly. “I don’t want to brush my teeth again.”

“Then I guess candy will have to wait for the morning.”

Henry sighs and shifts in his bed, burying his face into his pillow. He’s quiet, so Emma doesn’t say anything, hoping that maybe he’s going to fall asleep easily. Henry’s going to be in a mood in the morning. She can already tell. Hopefully, and it is a big hope, he’ll sleep in.

There’s almost a 100% certainty that he won’t.

“Is that man your boyfriend?”

Emma nearly chokes on her own tongue.

“What?”

Henry twists around until she can see his face again. “Avery said since I don’t have a dad, that my mom must have a boyfriend. Do you kiss him?”

His face is so twisted over the thought of Emma kissing someone that she can barely hold in her laughter. Her stomach is probably about as twisted as Henry’s face is.

“No, kid, that man is not my boyfriend. I don’t have one, but I promise if I get one, you’ll be the first one to know.”

He won’t be. If she ever does decide to date again, Henry won’t be meeting anyone until she’s somehow sure that everything will go right.

She has no idea how people do this.

It takes a few more minutes for Henry to fall back asleep, soft puffs of air hitting against her neck, and when she’s sure that he’s sound asleep, she carefully untangles herself and moves out of his bed, quietly exiting his room and going back out into the hallway. Mary Margaret, David, and Killian are all sitting in the living room, quietly talking, and Emma tries to slip past them and into her own bedroom only for David to call her over to hear some story about how Killian managed to get here from London. She listens to half of it, but she’s not nearly as intrigued by the stranger in her apartment. When he was nothing but a handsome customer, he was fine. This is much too much.

And that’s exactly why she excuses herself to her room, slipping out of her uniform and taking a shower to wash away the smell of food and alcohol and everything she hates about her job.

She’s going to smell like garlic bread for the rest of her life.

By the time she’s finished, has braid her hair back, brushed her teeth, washed her face, and changed into a pair of pajamas, it’s far past three in the morning. She needs to go to sleep, but she’s not leaving Henry unattended. As quietly as possible, she grabs an extra blanket and steps out into the main room of the apartment, hoping that Killian is asleep and stays that way.

Because this is her life, he is obviously wide awake and sitting at the kitchen table with a still steaming mug of what smells like tea in front of him.

He looks up the moment her bedroom door clicks behind her.

Shit.

“Swan,” he nods.

She nods. How rude would she be to ignore him and walk to Henry’s room?

“Oh. You’re still up.”

“It would seem so.”

“Do you need something? Another blanket? A pillow? Is Netflix not working?”

Killian shakes his head and takes a sip of his tea. She didn’t even know they had tea. Mary Margaret must have had some.

“I’m fine. I assure you that the three of you have been nothing but hospitable when I was fine to find a motel.” He reaches up and scratches behind his ear. She tries her best to ignore the fact that the fingers underneath his glove don’t move. “If I had known you had a son, I – ”

The hair on the back of her neck stands. “You would have what?”

“I would have never accepted Mary Margaret’s proposal. I’m sure you don’t want someone you don’t know being that close to your kid.”

“No, I don’t. You could be the nicest guy in the world, but don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.”

“I would despair if you did.”

Emma scoffs and turns her head away. Stupidly, she looks back. “If you want to spike your tea, I think we have some whiskey.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I’m off the clock now. I feel like you might deserve it.”

His head tilts back in quiet, broken laughter. “Aye, I suppose I do. It’s been a banner night.”

“I don’t know her or anything, but your girlfriend is obviously an idiot to cheat on you.”

“You don’t know anything about me either.”

“I know that very few people deserve to have their heart broken like that.”

“Is that what happened to you? You had your heart broken?”

She tugs the blanket around her shoulders. “That’s not your business.”

“Forgive me, love. You’re something of an open book to me. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

Now she’s the one who needs a drink.

This has not been her day.

Far too much love.

Far too many thoughts of Neal.

Far too many British men thinking they know her when they don’t.

“You don’t know anything about me either.”

Killian sighs and takes another long sip of his tea. “I know you hate Valentine’s Day and have a son while also living with another couple who are slightly older than you. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out a few things about you just as I’m sure you’ve done the same to me.”

Emma almost protests. But only almost. He’s right. She’s been watching people for a long time, and it’s easy to know that he uses his looks more than his intelligence to initially make people be fond of him. He’s charming, but he’s also smart. He’s studying a crazy difficult subject at a school that isn’t exactly for slackers, and while he may secretly be an asshole for his girlfriend to cheat on him, she doesn’t get that feeling.

She gets the feeling that he might be as down on her luck as she is sometimes.

“I’m getting the whiskey,” she blurts out. She’s not tired anymore, and if she goes to Henry’s room, she’s going to end up not being able to sleep. “Do you like hot chocolate?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had any.”

“Well, we’re changing that.”

Emma has obviously lost her mind in some kind of sleep-deprived, stressed-out kind of way, but she finds it easy to talk to Killian.

Which is dumb.

She wanted to hate him.

She really did.

But he’s easy to talk to despite the fact that she’s mad about that and that it’s probably one of the worst days of his life. She would assume. She doesn’t know.

What she does know, however, is that he was in the Navy for one year, was involved in an accident, and the compensation he got for that funded his move to the US and his education, which is a lot more information than what he shared with David earlier. It’s kind of fascinating, if not a little tragic, and maybe today wasn’t the worst day of his life.

She may have a little bit of whiskey in her, but she’s not about to spill all of her secrets.

Then again, she’s never going to see this man again. He’ll be a fleeting memory, just a ship passing in the night.

But no. She won’t share. Wounds never close if you keep picking at them, and she’s not going to do that.

Instead she tells him she just started at a local community college and that she hopes to get into the nursing program. She’s never been great at science, but it’s a good career with good pay, and by the time she’s finished with the program Henry will hopefully be at least a little self-sufficient. Besides, she’s got David and Mary Margaret to help her, and she can handle it.

She always has.

His mom was apparently a nurse, and she doesn’t ask about the way he refers to her in the past tense. It’s easier not to. Instead she listens to him share stories of she’d once told him when he was younger. It’s all crazy and stressful, and if Emma didn’t want a better life for she and Henry so badly, she’d probably drop all of her classes out of fear right now.

But the better life is calling.

Killian keeps the conversation flowing from topic to topic more easily than anyone has a right to, and he only occasionally stops, a dark flash settling in his eyes and in the curve of his lips. But just as quickly as it appears, it disappears and he talks of his favorite shows or the runs he likes to go on early in the morning when, miraculously, most of Manhattan is asleep.

“Thanks for this, love.”

“For what?” Emma asks.

“For keeping my mind occupied. I don’t – well, I bloody don’t know what I’d do if I’d stumbled into another restaurant tonight.”

Emma leans forward and tears apart a piece of her pop tart. “You’d be sleeping on some other bartender’s couch.”

“There’s not currently a lot of sleeping going on.”

She laughs and takes another bite before looking down at her phone. “Holy shit. It’s almost six thirty. How are either of us awake?”

“I’m fueled by anger, sadness, and the conversation of an incredibly charming woman.”

His brows wiggle with his words, his smile more of a smirk, and in any other situation, she’d have the urge to slap him.

“I’m going to be dead inside today.”

“I should probably let you go to bed, Swan. I’m sure you’ve got plans today that require sleep.”

“Yeah, I do. I – ”

Almost as if on cue, Henry’s door creaks open, and he walks out into the living room. His hair is disheveled like it always is when he wakes up, and now he is officially missing both socks.

Why can kids not sleep in?

“I’m hungry,” he mumbles, wiping his eyes. “Can we have pancakes? With the faces on them?”

“Kid, I – ”

“I can make them,” Killian interrupts. “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

“Um, yeah,” Emma nods. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m going to make some coffee, and then I’ll help. Henry, go brush your teeth.”

“Okay.”

“And I’m going to check to make sure you actually did.”

Henry groans, and Emma hears Killian chuckle. “I was exactly the same as a lad. So, pancakes with faces on them? Where do I find the ingredients?”

-/-

The pancakes are really good.

Much better than the ones she makes, which seems impossible when the recipe is on the box.

And Killian is fantastic at entertaining Henry’s questions, even when Henry asks about Killian’s gloved hand. He makes up some story about being attacked by Peter Pan and being like Captain Hook, and it helps Emma be a little less mortified that her child has no manners.

So on no sleep and a slight hangover, Emma has breakfast with her kid and a half-stranger, and it’s not the worst thing in the world.

It’s actually kind of nice.

And when Killian leaves to catch a train home, he slips her a note with his phone number. He leaves the ball in her court, which she likes, and even though it takes a few weeks, she does end up calling.

Well, texting. It’s easier that way.

Really, the whole thing is easy, and Emma is as surprised by that as anyone. For once in her life, she has hope that something is going to work out.

-/-

Next year Valentine’s Day is spent eating pizza with Killian and Henry with the only acknowledgement of the day being Henry giving the two of them the leftover cards from his class.

It’s perfect.

The year after that Killian doesn’t have to travel five hours to see them.

That’s somehow more than perfect.

“Can we say that our anniversary is Valentine’s Day, love?” Killian asks her as his lips press into her temple.

“Never,” she sighs, “but maybe the day isn’t as bad as it used to be.”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 153

153

Keith’s heart was currently somewhere in his throat as he struggled to breathe around the solid lump wedged in there. Though that might have also been the tie around his neck, which may be too tight but just right if he had to make a dash off the mortal coil. He knew he had to do something big to apologise for his behaviour. Rieva had pulled so hard on his ear as he admitted he’d lost his cool over the nursery that his ear still hurt. Call had been made. Shiro had groaned, but played his part, and now it was time to see Lance and of his boyfriend would let him apologise.

Lance loved love. Keith sent on a two hour mission across Platt to find anything Valentine’s Day related. He’d managed to find a teddy bear with chocolates, marked well and truly down enough to make Keith mentally kick himself all over again. Coran offered his help, but this was something Keith had to do by himself. Suited up, because he knew Lance loved it when he did, Keith held both the bear and two dozen long stem red roses that he’d paid an outrageous amount for. In the bag hanging off his arm was dinner. Italian, as Lance couldn’t say no to Italian food, as well as a bottle of non-alcoholic red wine. Coran had confirmed Lance was resting on his own, though warned him not to distress him further or he’d be kicked out. The way Coran had looked him had hurt. Coran was worried about the pair of them, yet didn’t hide the disappointment with a fake smile. Not that Coran had straight out said he was disappointed. He didn’t need to. Keith knew enough to know when he’d disappointed someone despite the compliment about him looking “quite dapper and fetching in a suit”

Knocking lightly on the door, Keith hated the place. Every time he came down to the medical wing he felt his stomach drop. The space barely had any fond memories, with visiting usually meaning Lance wasn’t doing too well. Letting himself in, Lance was laying with his back to the door. His boyfriend not moving

“It was Valentine’s Day. I missed Valentine’s Day. And I am so sorry. I have no excuses. I shouldn’t have lost my temper about the nursery either. I worry. I worry too much. But the thought of something happening to you breaks me on the inside”

“I’m not fragile and I’m not human”

Lance’s wobbly tone told Keith that his boyfriend was either crying or on the verge of crying. Keith not that far behind in the tears department

“I know you’re not fragile. To me you’re more human that most of the humans out there. I... so much has happened, but I... can’t get that image out of my head. You laying on the bed with blood between your legs. I keep... getting stuck on it. On how I could have lost you permanently, over something... something that... you do every day. I know you don’t forget, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget seeing you like that. When you saved me from Matt in the tunnels, I didn’t think there was anything that’d hurt more than seeing you torn to shreds. But then I... I think of you... bleeding and bleeding and somehow our twins surviving. It’s like a miracle. I get scared that something is going to happen and then you’ll all be gone”

“I know you get scared. But, today really hurt me. It felt like on top of ignoring Valentine’s Day, that I was nothing more than the breeding container for you kids. That Valentine’s Day was your way of saying you don’t like me as much as you used to, then today was the nail in the coffin. I tried not to let it hurt but you didn’t know. I went to so much effort to make... make it all special and then... I waited. And I waited. And then you were asleep and I realised you didn’t know at all. I know you don’t pay attention to things like that... but I thought maybe I was special enough that you’d have some secret plan”

Keith couldn’t feel shittier. Lance had waited for him again. This time he’d been right there and oblivious

“I’m sorry”

“I know you are and that makes it hurt so much more because you take such good care of me. I wanted to show you you mean the world to me and I... I wanted to spoil you because we couldn’t go on an actual date like everyone else did. I didn’t even... all I did was paint the nursery walls. Matt and Rieva helped with moving some things and I tried so hard to be careful. I scuffed up the floors... scraped the walls, and dented the stairs... because I didn’t want to keep thinking about you not liking me how you did. I know you love me... You... you didn’t hear what I was saying. You’re my heart and soul... so it hurt even more than I can handle”

Lance was one of the most house proud people he knew. He wasn’t obnoxious about it like in TV shows, nor did he go out of his way to brag about the things he had. His pride manifested in the way he kept things near and maintained. Things like a dripping tap would be fixed as soon as he noticed him. His love for his house was felt by everyone who visited. That Lance would intentionally harm his house said he wasn’t acting normally. Sure, his boyfriend had a track record of walking into things or falling down them, Lance had to also understand that his klutzy ways scared the shit out of Keith. The last example of his boyfriend’s uncoordination was Lance smacking his face on the bedside table trying to turn the lamp off and not disturb Blue.

“I don’t want to fight with you”

“I don’t either... I know you didn’t mean to forget... I just got my hopes up. I built it all up in my head”

“I’m sorry. Can I come closer?”

Lance nodded, Keith finding his legs stiff as he made his way over to stand in front of his boyfriend. With the blankets pulled up to his chin, Lance looked far too vulnerable. His eyes scrunched tightly closed as he sniffled

“I know I’m late, but... I... I picked up a few things. Are you up to sitting up?”

“Gimme a moment..”

“Okay. Do you need help?”

“I can do that much... I didn’t... I didn’t mean to act so selfish”

“I wish you’d told me. We had one of the best nights we’ve had in ages and I was so fucking clueless”

Lance opened his eyes as he propped himself up to sit. They were a little red from crying and a whole lot of wide as he stared at the roses in Keith’s hand

“They’re for you. I thought you would have smelt them and the surprise would have been ruined”

“You brought me flowers? And you’re... in a suit?!”

Keith nodded, kind of self conscious and wishing the happiness in Lance’s eyes was solely for him and not the roses

“You said you liked how I looked and it’s not like I wear one often”

“You look amazing... and I look like this... God... I hate fighting with you. I hate that I snapped...”

“I was the one who overreacted. With your sense of smell I panicked over how you could tolerate the paint”

“Honestly I’ve been smelling so much lately I let the paint knock my sense of smell out... I’m so sorry. I know I overreacted and I didn’t know how to come home and tell you I was sorry. I’m the worst boyfriend...”

“I’m the one who didn’t know Valentine’s Day had passed. I messed up our first Valentine’s Day as a couple”

Lance rubbed his eyes, failing at keep his tears at bay

“I’m the one who built it up”

“So you should. I know you’re a romantic. Fuck. I wish I’d known...”

“It’s not like we could go anywhere if you did”

That was true... but fuck it. He wanted to. Keith had had plenty of time to overthink things and rule out potential dates as he did

“We could”

“We can’t... I’m too big”

With his boyfriend down in tears, Keith hurried to sit on the bed beside Lance’s legs, placing his hand on Lance’s leg and kind of hoping the takeaway containers didn’t open as he did

“You’re not too big. You’re not. Fuck anyone who says that”

“We can’t hide it”

“Fuck them. It’s nobody’s business but ours. Tomorrow. We can go tomorrow. Anywhere you want”

Lance shook his head

“I can’t. What if... the wrong people see. Things have died down”

“Most vampires don’t walk around during the day. I won’t force you, but I’d love to go on a date with you”

“But your bike?”

“Babe, you’re a hundred times more important than my bike. I brought dinner too. Italian because I know that’s you’re favourite”

Keith was slightly lost as Lance cried harder, hiding his face completely. The hunter was sure Coran would be bursting through the door to yell at him for upsetting Lance any moment now

“Hey, no need to cry”

“You’re doing all this for me and I was so shitty to you!”

“You weren’t shitty. Maybe a bit, but I’m the one who forgot”

“How did you figure it out?”

“I made a list of things then worked through it. I thought the heart on the fridge was to mark Rieva’s and Matt’s anniversary”

“I don’t even know when that it!”

Keith snorted. As if he had any clue. Matt and Rieva were just... a complete package from the start

“Neither do I. I’ve never had a Valentine’s before. I don’t know if this is right...”

Lance lowered his hands, big blue eyes staring at straight at Keith

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I... I don’t deserve you”

“You deserve everything good, babe. Do you want to have dinner with me?”

Lance’s lack of immediate answer sent Keith’s stomach falling. His boyfriend sniffling hard, moving both hands to his stomach as he did

“Okay... but... tomorrow... tomorrow can we do something you want to do? I don’t care what kind of date we go on. I just want to go with you”

“Babe, I think we both remember how it went on our first date. It was kind of a disaster”

Lance granted him a soft smile with his fangs showing. He was just too damn cute, and it was too easy to forget he was 45 when he didn’t look or act it

“It wasn’t... I mean... I didn’t expect a gun range, but, I was happy. And happy in the hotel room. I’m happy when I’m with you. I don’t need special”

“You deserve special”

“Babe. Special is like... overrated. What’d make me happy is doing something you want to do”

“But I’m the one who forgot”

“And you’re the one who suggested a date. We’re either doing something you want to do, or we’re not going”

Keith channel his best “Kosmo” look. Pouting as he stared at Lance, Lance simply crossing his arms. It wasn’t fair. He knew he’d kind of nailed the look Kosmo gave that got him out of the shit most of the time. Holding the expression, Lance finally laughed after several long moments

“Stop it. It’s not going to work”

“It seems pretty effective”

“That’s because I have a hard time saying no to the man I love. I’m serious, Keith. I want to do something for you and me, that you like. I don’t want you thinking I love you any less if you don’t keep me happy, because that isn’t what I want in a relationship at all. I want you to be a bit bossy and be selfish, because honestly you really struggle with that. You’re important to me. The things you like are important to me. The nursery... I’d... I’d never go ahead and decide on everything. You’re the father of our twins. They’re half you. And a whole lot of responsibility. I looked at few things I like, but I want to know what you like. I want to make memories as we make these choices together. You scared me when you suddenly grabbed me”

“I’m sorry. I just... get caught up in the “maybes”. Like how you shouldn’t be stressing yourself, and what Allura said, and that you’ve had a bleed”

“It was barely really a bleed...”

“The first one wasn’t”

Lance’s face fell. Keith felt mean for trying to drive home that he couldn’t cope with that fear, but he really did Lance to understand that it was something he grappled with

“I didn’t... I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have... not if...”

“I know. I feel that same fear you feel when I’m hurt. That feeling like all the oxygen has been sucked out the room... I know you’re tough and strong, but I also know you’ve been through a metric ton of fuckery, like some messed up author keeps throwing crap at us when all we want to do is get on with our lives. And... and when you do things without me, I wonder... if I’m needed”

“You’re needed. I swear it. But this is something we’re going to need to work on, to meet half way. I got too self reliant, that I let myself be all swept up. When I get something in my head I like to do it then and there to get it out the way. I’m not trying to disclude you. Exclude you. Disclude isn’t even a word. And... I may have over done things trying to cope with my anxiety. I know you love me... but I live with my ego too. You settle and soothe that part of me. So I think I react even more because I’m so used to it settling around you. It never used to settle. It was a chronic itch under my skin that I fought with every day since I died. You didn’t ask to deal with my ego on top of me”

Lance sounded so troubled by this mysterious force Keith couldn’t understand no matter how many different ways it was explained to him. He was himself. His ego was his self of self. Lance’s ego acted as if Lance was an unwelcome in his own body. He’d known that all along. That he could soothe Lance’s ego showed how deeply Lance and the monster inside trusted him to do right by them

“No, babe. I knew you struggled with your ego. I knew that it was this other part of you. I still love you. Ego and all. Now, I’ve got dinner and alcohol free wine. You’ve got just enough bed space to move over so we can eat and cuddle...”

“Only if you agree our date will be somewhere you want to go”

Somewhere Lance liked. He liked seeing Lance happy... He didn’t know how to ask for more, nor did he need anything more

“Okay. I’m still super sorry”

“I’m sorry too. We’ve been through a lot, and you’re so sweet to me. You keep me going and...”

“And you gave me a super romantic night that I had no idea about”

Lance snorted at him

“I feel like that’s saying I’m not romantic enough”

“Babe, you’re very romantic. I know it’s cliche, but having you to come home to makes all the difference. Even when I’m covered with grease. That should have been my biggest clue”

Normally he was met kisses then sent to shower, or if Lance was asleep on the sofa he stole a kiss then headed up to clean up

“Well we did only just have Christmas not that long ago, but let’s aim to actually celebrate things on the right day this year”

“And next year...”

“Babe, we’re gonna have two kids either crawling or walking. We’re gonna have our hands full”

“Their uncles can watch them. I can’t believe Shiro didn’t remind me”

“He’s got a lot going on. You look really handsome in that suit. I don’t think I’ve seen more than pictures of you in one”

“Then you get the whole suit experience for the first time. Matching socks and underwear and all”

Lance laughed at him, starting to move over as he did

“I’m down for the suit experience, but I’m more down for cuddles. It’s a shame your suit’s going to get wrinkled. You look very dashing and very charming”

Keith blushed harder than he should have. He’d tried to look good for Lance, and not like the slob he was slowly evolving from

“That I know I can’t forget. Uh. I mean... I can’t forget the cuddles... uh... okay, let me get the hospital table and we’ll eat”

Lance’s smile was so bright that it sent Keith stupid. Lance had been through so much that he didn’t even notice the love he gave to everyone around him. The way he’d fix small rips or tears if he found them in the washing. The way he’d swapped to lactose free milk like it was nothing. The way he held him like he didn’t have blood on his hands. The constant encouragement. The way he gave and gave. He could be a brat. A total brat and sometimes he drove Keith crazy being too nice and too ready to help. But Keith didn’t think he could repay Lance for the way he’d changed him. Not all changes were good. Lingering thoughts of the people who’d died in Zarkon’s mansion haunted him. He’d never overthought about the life of a vampire until Lance came. He’d always wonder how many he’d killed who’d been on humanities side. Yet... his overall view of the world had softened. Shades of grey now seen between that black and white line of vampires being evil abominations and humans being good. Not that all humans were good either. They’d both had their moments. Keith did wonder if he’d be able to keep things spicy enough for Lance to stay interested him, then he’d remember that his boyfriend really seemed content with Keith simply existing in the same space as him, and some of that anxiety he’d suffered his whole life would simply fade away. Lance standing in the kitchen. The smile just for him. He didn’t need to propose or rush, despite the occasional compulsion, because Lance wanted to move slowly. To wait for him to catch up. He held out his hand and smoothed the way forward, despite all the ups and downs. Next year he wouldn’t forget. He’d remember and make sure Lance felt like he was the main character of those trashy romance movies he loved so much.

[tsuki-chibi]

Avengers Valentine’s Fic: Six Hands are Better than Two

Read it on AO3!

--------

When her cup of tea was ready, Pepper carried it over to the table and sat down. She took a careful, too-hot sip, then set her cup down and looked at the tablet sitting in front of her. This was it. The moment of truth. Despite of her nerves, her hands remained remarkably steady as she picked up the tablet and unlocked it. The first file opened seamlessly, and she scanned it with a critical eye.

She knew exactly what she was looking for. The biggest issue was finding it. The first few she dismissed out of hand due to various health problems. The fifth file showed a man with blond hair; she lingered over that one for a minute before flicking past, knowing that she would prefer someone with darker hair. The sixth was passed over for the same reason. Then she landed on the seventh, showing a striking man with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a broad smile with straight, white teeth.

“Not him. Too much like a movie star.”

Pepper shrieked and jumped about a foot in the air. “Tony! What the hell?!”

Tony laughed as he sat down beside her, close enough to steal the tablet but out of range of any punches. “I asked JARVIS to tell me when you started looking at the profiles,” he said smugly. “I wanted to see too.”

“JARVIS, you traitor,” Pepper muttered without any heat.

“My apologies, Ms. Potts, but Sir was most persuasive.”

Knowing what that meant, Pepper shook her head. “Tony, you have got to stop threatening to sell them to MIT,” she said, exasperated. “One of these days JARVIS is going to take you seriously and have himself voluntarily moved, and then where will you be?”

“J loves me too much for that,” Tony said dismissively, continuing to flick through. “Is this really all you have to choose from? Slim pickings.”

Pepper sighed and rested her cheek on her hand. “Well, fewer men are donating sperm now,” she said frankly. “People are nervous about having biological children showing up on their doorstep in twenty years.” She could appreciate that fear, but it made this process no less frustrating.

When she had first decided that she wanted a baby, Pepper had thought long and hard about her choices. As an aromantic woman, she had absolutely zero interest in a relationship. She liked sex – was rather good at sex, actually – but that was about the extent of it. And no one night stand or frequent booty call was going to agree to have a baby with her without bringing feelings into the mix. Eventually they’d want more: they’d want a relationship, the whole 2.5 kids and white picket fence, and the thought made her skin crawl.

No romance. No relationships. Just a kid. That was harder to get than she had anticipated. She had done quite a bit of research into adoption, but every place she had reached out to had unapologetically informed her that they were reluctant to adopt a child to a single woman. She probably could’ve paved the way by throwing money at the situation, but she was loathe to do that when she’d already be facing a ton of media scrutiny as it was.

There was also surrogacy as an option, but Pepper was more than willing to carry the baby herself. It was Rhodey who had suggested that she go to a donation clinic. Pepper hadn’t seen any harm in looking to see what was available; she wasn’t committing herself just by looking. But she hadn’t anticipated how lackluster it would be. Did she really want to choose the father of her child like she’d pick out a pair of shoes?

Well, no. Of course she didn’t. But she was running out of options – and time. She was turning thirty-five after this year, so she was approaching the threshold where pregnancies were a higher risk. She was already aware she was probably only going to do this once, so she had to make it count. This was the best resort. She held a hand out for the tablet back, but Tony shook his head.

“Seriously, Pep, you don’t have to go with one of these losers,” he said.

“Then how else am I supposed to make it happen? I am not interested in a relationship,” Pepper said, a bit more forcefully than was necessary considering who she was talking to, but she was so damn sick of having to repeat herself. People thought there was something wrong with a woman who didn’t want a relationship. There was a reason she and Tony had covered for each other for as long as they did.

“I know you’re not,” Tony said, far more kindly than she deserved, and Pepper’s shoulders slumped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off,” she said. Out of everyone, Tony knew exactly what it was like to fall short of people’s expectations. He had cultivated a reputation as a slut early on to keep people from figuring out that the infamous Tony Stark had no interest in sex: he would bring drunk women home with him and then put them to bed. Anyone who remembered going to bed alone never wanted to admit that Tony hadn’t slept with them, so they’d make up stories. And she was pretty sure the sex tapes had been faked.

After Afghanistan, when Tony could no longer bear the idea of bringing strangers home, he and Pepper had officially become a couple to give them both some relief. Unofficially Pepper had cultivated a few discreet fuck buddies, while Tony had been content to remain alone. Their agreement had worked very well to keep them both from being bothered by the media, or worse hunted by prospective partners, until Tony met Dr. Stephen Strange.

Pepper had seen the writing on the wall from the moment they returned home from the fight on Titan, having been victorious. Stephen looked at Tony like Tony was something precious, and Tony’s eyes lit up whenever Stephen walked into a room. Naturally, the two of them had awkwardly danced around each other for a few months before Pepper got impatient and forced them to talk it out.

“That’s okay. I get it. Hell, no one gets it better than me,” Tony said. He set the tablet down and looked at her seriously. “What if I offered to do it?”

Her eyebrows jumped. “You’re gonna have sex with me. You.”

“Eww, no,” Tony said, making a face. “But I’d happily donate some of my sperm to the cause. Stephen says that the whole process is way more advanced than it used to be, but that there’s plenty of room for improvement… maybe he and I will take a look at it and see if we can’t figure something out.”

“If anyone could do it, it would be you too,” Pepper said, still reeling from the offer. “You… you’d seriously want a baby?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I know you and I didn’t work out, but I still think any kid of ours would be awesome.” Tony gave a small smile that quickly faded as he added, “I mean, I understand if you don’t want to. I’ll probably end up being a shitty dad –”

“Tony, no. That’s not it. Anyone who sees you with Peter knows you’re a wonderful dad,” Pepper said immediately.

“It’s not really the same,” Tony mumbled, looking embarrassed.

“Yes, it is and you know it. He literally calls you and Stephen ‘dad’,” Pepper pointed out.

“But we didn’t raise him,” Tony said. He shook his head. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that the offer is there if you’re interested.”

Pepper hummed softly. “What did Stephen say?”

“He’s okay with it. You can talk to him about it if you want to, which you probably should.”

“He’s ready to be a parent?” Pepper asked. “Or are you just looking to make a donation and that’s all?”

“No, we want to be parents with you. Midnight feedings and all. You could move into a room on our floor, and we can set the baby up in the room between us and you. That way, we can help equally. And you’d still be able to go back to your floor when you needed a break,” Tony explained, sounding adorably eager.

“You’re really serious about this,” Pepper said, amazed. At one time, Tony hadn’t been sure that he wanted to be a father at all. That was all Howard Stark’s influence as far as Pepper was concerned. She knew that Tony would be a great dad, but Tony was petrified that he was going to turn out like his father. Having Peter around had done wonders for Tony’s confidence in that regard.

“I am… but only if you’re okay with it. I get that it could be awkward or uncomfortable,” Tony said. “I mean… Stephen and I would still be Avengers and everything.” He looked up uncertainly.

“Let me think about it,” Pepper said slowly. “Is that okay?”

“Sure. Take all the time you need.” He stood up, passed her the tablet, and ambled causally out of the room. Only someone who knew him well, like Pepper did, could recognize how tense he was as he went. He really, really wanted this, she realized.

“JARVIS, have Tony and Stephen really talked about this?” Pepper asked.

“Yes, Ms. Potts. In great detail,” JARVIS replied. “Dr. Strange has just arrived home. Would you like to speak with him?”

“Please,” Pepper said. She believed Tony when he said that Stephen was okay with this, but she wanted to be sure before she even started considering this. She didn’t want a baby to be the thing that came between Tony and the only person he’d ever seriously fallen in love with.

It was only a few minutes before Stephen joined her in the kitchen. He was wearing his uniform, minus the Cloak, and looked tired. Pepper waved him to the table and got up to make herself another cup of tea. She also poured one for Stephen. Unlike Tony, who might as well have had coffee in his veins considering how much of the stuff he drank, Stephen preferred tea. When she turned around, Stephen had picked up the tablet and was flipping through the profiles. Pepper rolled her eyes.

“See anyone interesting?” she asked, sitting again.

“I see some people who may have lied on their applications,” Stephen said critically, stopping at one profile and frowning down at it. “Besides, I believe the more important question is whether you’ve seen anyone interesting.”

“I didn’t get very far before Tony interrupted me,” she admitted. “He had a proposition.”

Stephen didn’t look surprised. “He mentioned he was planning to bring it up today. What did you think?”

“I’m not opposed to the idea,” Pepper said carefully. In truth, it was the best option she’d heard yet. “But I wanted to see what you thought. This isn’t just between me and Tony. I know Tony; he’ll want to be there 100%. And that effectively makes you a father too.”

“It does,” Stephen agreed, his blank expression giving nothing away.

“So… are you okay with that?” Pepper said. “Is that something you want? If it’s not, now is the time to say it.”

“I never imagined I would have a child,” Stephen told her. His hands shook as he lifted his cup. “Particularly after the accident. I lost all interest in sex after that, and a couple of the medications that I’m on would make it difficult for me to get someone pregnant.”

Pepper nodded, having already known this. Tony had told her in confidence after she professed worry over how the two of them would get on, what with Tony’s complete lack of interest in sex. Stephen wasn’t asexual, or at least he didn’t claim the label for himself, but based on what Tony said he was pretty adamant about never wanting to have sex. Luckily, that suited Tony perfectly fine.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not intrigued by the idea. I like having Peter around. I like seeing the joy that Peter’s presence brings to both Tony and myself. I would very much enjoy raising a child. We’ve talked about adoption, but then when you started looking into donations, Tony suggested this could be a convenient solution for all of us.” Stephen hesitated briefly. “My one concern is that I’m not sure how much help I would be at first. My hands…” He trailed off, grimacing.

“It’s fine,” Pepper said gently. “Tony and I will be there. Hell, there are plenty of people in the tower to help. And trust me, there is still plenty you could do.”

“So you’re considering it?” he asked.

“Well… yes, I am. Some people might think it’s crazy… my mom sure will. But I really want a baby, and I like the idea of my child being a part of someone I know and love,” she said. “Even better if it’s Tony, because I know him so well. Plus, Tony brings you to the table as well. The idea of three parents instead of being a single mom sweetens the pot significantly.” She smiled to show that she was teasing, even though she was partially serious.

Stephen smiled too. “Give it some thought. You don’t need to decide right away.” He sat back, rubbing his neck. “JARVIS, where is Tony?”

“Sir is in the workshop.”

Pepper and Stephen exchanged exasperated looks, and then Stephen stood up. “I better go get him out of there, or he’ll pull another all-nighter.”

“Please do,” Pepper said, standing up herself. She picked up her tablet as Stephen left, and did a quick pass through all of the profiles. Some of them sounded impressive, but… she cast a thoughtful look at the door and hummed under her breath as she washed her cup out and set it in the dishwasher.

She did a lot of thinking over the next couple of days. She talked to Rhodey, who was very much in support of the idea, and she talked to her mother, who was very much not. And she also spent some time looking seriously at the files that the agency had given her, trying to decide who she might pick if she decided not to take Tony up on his offer. The problem was, Stephen’s skepticism had made her nervous. After all, she was trusting that complete strangers were who they said they were, and Pepper had been burned that way before in far less high-stakes situations.

There was always the option of asking JARVIS to run background checks, but honestly Pepper wasn’t sure she wanted JARVIS to bother wasting the processing power. Not when, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she had never wanted to be a single mother. It was just the only avenue that she felt was open to her, and she wanted a baby badly enough to accept the cons.

But why do so when she didn’t have to?

It was late at night when Pepper crawled out of bed and padded, bare foot, to the elevator. JARVIS took her down to the common room floor, where she knew that some of the Avengers had been having a late night watching movies. As expected, everyone else was gone and Stephen and Tony were alone in the room, cuddled up on the couch: the two of them had a bad habit of falling asleep there and then regretting it the next day.

Pepper paused for a moment in the doorway, staring at the two of them with a smile. Stephen was laying on the couch itself on his back, bare feet stick out from beneath the blanket. Tony was laying half on top of him and half on the couch, mostly buried beneath the blanket. They made for an adorable sight, one that made her heart swell with happiness on Tony’s behalf.

This was all that Tony had ever wanted. This, right here. Or so she had thought. But maybe there was something else that Tony wanted too, which Pepper had never considered before. Being asexual and not wanting to have sex meant that there was a very obvious obstacle in the way of Tony having kids, but even more than that Tony had to be extremely careful about who he had a child with. Way too many people would take total advantage of him if it meant getting their greedy hands into the Stark fortune.

She didn’t need to take advantage; Tony would gladly hand her his entire fortune without blinking an eye. Hell, in a way he already had by making Pepper the CEO of Stark Industries. Technically, if she had been so inclined, Pepper could’ve overthrown Tony and forced him out of his own company. Thankfully for Tony, she had absolutely no intention of doing that. S.I. would die without Tony’s genius guiding the way, which was something that men like Obadiah Stane were too stupid to realize.

She padded over to the couch and sat down on Tony’s side. Stephen awoke first, blinking owlishly. “Something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” Pepper said. She patted Tony’s knee.

“Huh – wha?” Tony was slower to stir. “Pep?”

“I wanted to see if your offer was still open,” Pepper said.

Tony snapped to immediately. “Of course it is!”

“Good. Because I think I want to take you up on it,” she said.

“Seriously?” Tony said.

“Seriously.”

“Oh my god,” Stephen said. “You’re going to have a baby.”

Pepper wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but she shook her head. “No. We’re” she gestured between the three of them “are having a baby.”

The resulting brilliant smiles that lit up both Tony’s and Stephen’s face made her feel warm from head to toe, and she knew immediately that she’d made the right decision. She beamed as Tony and Stephen kissed with joy, and then Tony pushed himself up and threw his arms around her. Pepper hugged him back happily, returning Stephen’s smile over Tony’s shoulder.

They were really gonna do this, and she knew that three of them would do it right.

[slasherscream]

poly billy and stu celebrating holidays with their s/o?? from birthdays (theirs) valentine's day, christmas, etc love your blog sm!! it's my favourite 🤩🤩

A/N: anon this is such a cute idea thank you for sending it in. 

     billy loomis x reader x stu macher

                                                     ——————– 

Let’s start with the top’s birthday. So Billy? He is an iconic mix of bitch and bastard. Meaning that he is absolutely pretending to hate his birthday. Or at least is exaggerating on the point of how much he wants “everyone” to forget about it. Because … and I mean this ….god help you if Stu and you ever forget or listen to him when he says “don’t do anything”. It would be a fucking nightmare of which you would never wake if you both did this. 

Luckily Stu already made this mistake one year before y'all were all together and he knows. The first year you’re together Billy is going through his regular shtick of bullshit. You pull Stu aside privately later and ask, “so are we doing anything for his birthday or are we listening to Billy.”

Stu gets….the most distant far-off look in his eyes. Like he’s a man that’s come back from war and just got drafted again. He’s never grabbed your shoulders harsher, “We have to do something he’s lying.“ 

So you do something. The good part about Billy’s birthday is he’s actually not hard to please. Start the day off right with an acknowledgement. So you do a movie night the day before. This way when midnight hits you can pause Halloween and he will almost start yelling at you before you guys whip out obnoxious colored party-horns and start trying to blow them to the beat of Happy Birthday. He is rolling his eyes but deeply pleased as he was already contemplating ….revenge of some sort at 11:55 (please god make Billy chill out for one day). 

He is not lying about not wanting anything big though. He really only wants to celebrate with you and Stu. Don’t throw him a party. He won’t be mad per-say but he won’t be like pumped or anything. Will end the party early or will make you and Stu sneak off with him. This is #His Day and the focus will be #On Him. 

His Mom used to make him a cake every year and Stu, as his life-long best friend (and now boyfriend), totally remembers the tradition. He's just not capable of baking or cooking. But he tells you and hopes you can do it and you can (if you're bad at baking too let's just imagine with you and Stu both working hard you can...achieve....something). Surprising Billy with the cake would make him feel #Soft.

Honestly he's spending the whole day acting tough and pretending he barely wants to do anything but?? He loves it and loves that you're both 100% focused on him and making him happy. He's just a brat. But ignore him while he's scoffing about you guys both kissing his cheeks at the same time he's having the time of his life. He just wants to cuddle and watch movies and for no one to go anywhere. 

If you want to go Big for Him one year or something the best thing you could do is put Rich Boy Stu's money to good use and get him autographed shit from Horror Icons. Or original props from movies. He'll lose his fuCKING MIND. Finally breaks his lame "cool guy" act for 0.5 seconds. 

Stu doesn't play hard to get and he doesn't play mind-games (with you and Billy, that is). Y'all know damn well he wants a big fuss made about his special day. He also wants a big party. It's super easy to make him happy on his birthday if you just remember that unlike Billy he wants this to be as over the top as fucking possible.  

Wake him up with breakfast in bed screaming happy birthday at the top of your lungs and he jumps up like a kid on Christmas Morning. Yes....this is #His Day....pay attention to HIM. 

Give him lots of presents! He's easy to buy for! New clothes. Stupid jewelry. Horror shit. New voice changer box. He just likes receiving gifts. They don't have to be expensive ...just have him open a lot of packages and he'll love it.

Do a surprise birthday party. It's not a surprise in any way at all but watching his face light up when he walks into his fucking house at the end of the day and half the highschool pops out like "surprise!!" is so fucking worth all the hassle that you and Billy have to smile at each other. 

Billy has thrown him parties before but they're more of just...huge get-together’s. Like highschool(TM) parties where you're too cool to decorate. You? Not a pussy. You deck out the whole house and Stu loses his fucking mind. Knows you are the cause of this and kisses the shit out of you. Dips you and everything. Billy is protesting because, "Hey I blew up half these fucking balloons" ...don't be a piss baby it'll be your turn in like thirty seconds. 

Fourth of July?? Stu has the most illegal fireworks he could get his hands on so they’re. …. pretty illegal. They’re the asshole neighbors that set them off like weeks before the 4th and if you weren't fucking them you'd want their heads on a platter. As is? Eh.....you're fucking them so I guess this is the neighbor's problems- They always forgive because Stu's family throws the greatest fucking barbecues day of.

St. Patrick's Day? Time to get fucking WASTED. You are wearing green aggressively because the one year you didn't Stu pinched your ass all day long. Even Billy joined in when he saw how feisty and annoyed it was making you. Stu is still doing it but you...tried at least, RIP. It's the tradition now. 

Valentine's Day?? billy vc: love is a neurochemical con job. But don't worry Stu will not allow him to be a bastard about the day because he's affectionate and loving. Stu knows how to celebrate the day perfectly. This is his time to shine! The Most Obnoxious Boyfriend. Everyone else is jealous. Flowers? Delivered in the middle of class. Huge chocolate box that is also #Expensive? Have fun putting that in your locker (he's sweet so he's actually gonna put it in his car for you once you've had a few)! Would pay the Band Kids to Follow Billy and s/o around MOSTLY to annoy Billy but also to be cute. They're playing the fucking .... they're playing this. Billy is so angry but..... like.... his inner possessive loves being made a fuss over publicly so whatever. Maybe he won't kill the band kids for this. You're not an ungrateful cretin so you clap and laugh. 

Billy does get Stu a gift ...something not really...Valentine's Day-esque but something he'll like. Like a horror-themed bong (i'm so sorry y'all this man obviously is smoking weed). You wrap it in pink, heart themed paper for him which he didn't know you were going to do and he is going to get you for that ...later...in the bedroom. But Stu loved it so whatever. 

You? At the exact same time you and Stu present each other teddy bears. His teddy for you? Cute and fucking...Huge. Yours?? Fucking horror themed.. made to be gore-y and bloody looking. He gasps, obviously touched, "Babe!". Gonna get made out with so hard.... How are you so cute and funny? He loves you!! It sits proudly on his dresser. 

What do you get Billy?? He really does dislike the Holiday because he thinks people who use this as the day to show they half-ass care about their s/o one day a year deserve death and despair. He will give them that death and despair. So what to give him then?

Stu pretended to be too busy planning for Valentine's Day to plan any murders with him which pissed Billy off even more the week prior. He was busy planning Valentine's Day. He was planning the Normal one they'd have with you and the more private, bloody one they'd have later that night killing couples together. Icing on cake? You pitched in by helping Stu plan it and by picking out new knives for them to use during. They're #Pink in a way that is obnoxious but the quality is amazing and you say, "it's your Valentine's Day knives!!! Just to use on Valentine's every year. Do you like them?"       billy choked up: it's fucking .... alright 

Got em'! The only way you can make the night better is letting Stu and Billy have sex with you when they get home. They're high off the kill rush and Billy is pleasantly-surprised that Stu did a really good job of planning everything alone. They're covered in blood and feeling love-dovey. Let's all do heavy eye-contact missionary tonight

April Fools is a mess and it leaves all of y'all mad at each other for a solid fucking week. Everybody gets got. Nobody can trust one another. Nobody should.

Thanksgiving is not a happy time for Billy. He doesn't like spending it with his Dad because while he's ...so good at misdirecting or #Avoiding Things He Doesn't Want To Deal With it gets very hard at this time of year to not get mad at his Dad. He's for some reason never going to hurt his Dad who he could easily blame for his Mom leaving?? But he won't. Though he's very angry during this time of the year. His Dad will try to do anything and he just shuts himself in his room. Doesn't even wanna go to Stu's house or your house. It would just make him feel .... weird, upset, like he's intruding... jealous, even. It's kinda sad. He won't even pick up your calls that day. You and Stu don't even have to sneak into the house. Billy's Dad quietly let's you in and you go upstairs and just hold him together. It's a solemn holiday because it's like the start of reminding Billy about his Mother abandoning him. 

Christmas goes kinda the same way tbh but he's ....trying to make an effort to not be as big of a bummer since Christmas is a little more significant than Thanksgiving. He knows you and Stu actually enjoy the holiday season. He tries to distance himself in general during this time because he just doesn't know how to be anything else. It's actually kinda sad because most of Billy's emotions if they're negative wind up manifesting as anger but he's genuinely depressed as shit. 

Things are different when you all move in together because now he's also not trying to spend the holidays with the literal reminder of why his life sucks (his cheating ass daddy). Plus you and Stu are determined to give him new Holiday experiences to replace the ones that make him feel so shitty with nostalgia. He's grumpy the first Christmas you guys spend together after you're living alone but not angry the way he's been at Christmas times' past. Improvement.  

The Christmas after that? Doesn't cringe once seasonal music starts playing in stores. Ghostface killings get a little less violent and frequent (he's not using them to cope as soon as it gets cold). Getting better. The Christmas after that?? You can get him to help you decorate. He helps you and Stu with the tree. He makes cookies with you. You watch horror themed Christmas movies and some regular ones (you cannot be a movie tyrant during the holidays, billy-). Christmas after that? You all send out a "family" Christmas card. You and Stu are in ridiculous sweaters and Billy is in one of solid red but he's wearing a Santa hat. His arms are crossed but there's the slightest smile on his face. You each have an arm around him. You all look happy together.

Now ..... for the big one: Halloween. Thought I skipped it? Hah! Best for last. This is their happiest time of year. They are so ready for this shit you have no idea. It's disgusting how ready they are. It turns October and Stu drops this video in your three person chat. Billy replies with a devil emoji. Disgusting?? You know you're in for a chore of keeping them in line for a whole fucking month. They will be doing MISCHIEF. They will be doing SHENANIGANS. Both MURDER and OTHERWISE. They're teepeeing houses. Cars. They're stealing candy from kids like dicks probably. Or laughing at people who are doing this. They keep the kills to Halloween night though. A whole month of just planning so they can do something big and terrible. You have to be looking after them extra during this time because they're so excited they are ...not ...doing that. you: you guys please drink some water i haven't seen you move in hours billy and stu: billy: holy shit it's been- stu: babe please make us something to eat we haven't had anything since yesterday :(((( 

Fucking dumb idiot disease. If you're living together?? God help you, you used to only have to see them get hype as fuck. Now? You must experience it 24/7. Halloween prep starts emotionally? Once summer ends. They want to deck out the house to the nines and you’re just gonna have to piss now staring at/being aware of the over-sized plastic spider Stu put on the back of the toilet. 

Everything is spooky. Cobwebs everywhere. Black! Orange! Pumpkins! Outside decorations that are actually scary as shit. They're the haunted house on the street that gets #Talked About. They're gonna go murder the shit outta people later but early in the night?? The kids that manage to walk up to the house?? Get fucking...the Mother-load of all candy. The brave little bastard dressed as a ballerina-fairy-princess?? Fist-bump. Billy does not much like kids but all the kids who get to his door? You deserve this. Full-sized chocolate bars and bags of candy. Maybe even a dollar or two. Stu is actually great with kids and is the nice one who guesses all of their costumes. Somehow can guess the weird ones accurately? 

Once that part of the night is over they go out and just wreak total fucking havoc. Halloween in Woodsboro is a nightmare. They're having fun at least! This is their Christmas and they love it. Babe         babe don't wait up. They tell you as if you couldn't fucking guess?? They're not home till the wee hours of the morning and they're dead-exhausted but they had the time of their lives. 

                                                     ——————–

[asteriskemily]

The Five People Duck Fell For

(And The One Who, Quite Literally, Picked Him Up)

Here’s a kinda shitty, but kinda okay fic that I wrote because I didn’t know that needed Waynerva until Justin handed it to me on a silver platter. 

If Wayne Newton has to real think about it, he would say that his first crush was on Danny Keil in the second grade. They lived in the same cul-de-sac and their mothers were both on the PTA, so they were often made to spend time together. They walked to school together, they ate lunch together, and they played tag together. It was the perfect friendship for two eight year old boys.

Danny moved away in the third grade. His mom was still around, but Wayne would never again see Danny. Wayne’s mom told him that Danny’s parents got divorced. Wayne didn’t know what that meant, but he knew that Danny was gone.

Wayne hadn’t realized that it was a crush at the time. He barely knew what a crush was and when he learned what it was, he didn’t know he could have one on a boy. By the time he recognized what it had been, Wayne had already been taught that boys liking boys was a bad thing, so he chose to avoid thinking about his first friend.

-

Wayne had his first kiss at a birthday party in the fifth grade and it was the beginning of his whirlwind romance with Becky Emberson. They shared pudding cups and pushed each other on the swings during recess and once Wayne gave her a dandelion on Valentine’s Day to show that he really loved her.

Becky’s favorite subject was art and Wayne’s was English and, because of that, Becky said that they were too different and that they had to break up. Wayne was absolutely heartbroken. One month later Juno Devine came to Kepler with three things that Wayne found fascinating: a Polaroid camera, a Walkman, and a love for nature that he had never seen in anyone else. Juno became his best friend and together they sat in the woods, listening to R.E.M. and taking stupid pictures of each other. Wayne made silly faces at the camera and when the picture came sliding out of it Juno laughed and said that his mouth looked like a duck’s bill. She took a pen and wrote, under the picture, Wayne “The Duck” Newton.  The nickname stuck.

-

Tabatha and all of her friends were attractive, popular, and loaded. He asked her out on a dare and was shocked when she actually said yes. They went to a drive in movie theater that was just outside of town and made out in her car while The Empire Strikes Back played in the background. They dated for three months and neither of them found the relationship particularly interesting. She took him skiing on his 18th birthday and he fell down the mountain and nearly broke his legs. He then limped to the Wolf Ember and had his first ever bowl of French onion soup and it changed his life. She found him there, eating soup and trying not to break down in tears at its glory. She drove him home in silence and they both knew that this would be their last date.

That same night a blue woman who was maybe a ghost or maybe computers told him that he was destined for greatness, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the soup and the math test he had on Tuesday and how he wasn’t the right guy to save the world.

-

Duck wanted to get as far away from Kepler as he could. Away from the people he was only half-friends with, away from the mom that called Juno a dead beat just because she didn’t fit the perfect standard of what she thought a girl should be, away from whatever destiny he may or may not actually have. The farthest he could get was Marshal University. Even if he wasn’t so far from Kepler, it was like a whole other world. A world with less stress about destinies and more cell service. A world where he didn’t feel terrified when he was calling that cute boy he met at the campus bar and asking him out on a date. Duck Newton dated Charlie Wallace for nearly three years before he got a letter from his little sister that told him that their mom had died in a car crash.

That same day, Duck packed his bags and bought a bus ticket back to Kepler. He told Charlie goodbye and they both knew that they wouldn’t be able to keep in touch. When Duck got to Kepler he hugged June and they both cried. Their dad died when they were little and now their mom was gone too. This was all the family that they had left.

Duck got an apartment and a job and he finished college online. June went to school and tried to have normal life. Duck became a ranger and June made it all the way to Harvard to become a lawyer. Everything was normal. That is, until Duck had a dream about an archway made of stone and suddenly Minerva was back.

-

Duck thought that the mothman was hot. He may be just a regular guy now, but he was a regular guy who knew where the mothman lived. He went to knock on the door to the winnebago that Indrid lived in and it opened before his fist connected. Indrid smiled at him with a grin that seemed to wide to be human. This is because it in fact wasn’t human. Duck asked him out for coffee and Indrid agreed. They sat and talked about having visions of the future while they drank coffee and shared a scone. 

It was the first date that either of them had been on in quite some time and as they walked back to the winnebago Indrid informed Duck that it was the last one that they would be going on together. He told Duck that there wasn’t a future where the two of them ended up together and that there was no point in delaying the inevitable. In the months following the date, Duck would think back to what Indrid said to him as he walked away, still wearing his too-wide, inhuman grin.

“So few people have true soulmates, Duck Newton. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that.”

-

Minerva had been quiet lately. While she usually went through life roaring like a clap of thunder, since the end of the battle that she had been fighting for who knows how long, she was more silent. Duck didn’t necessarily think it was a bad thing. She seemed calm like she was finally at peace.

He came home to find Minerva laying on the floor with Moony the cat sitting proudly on her chest.

“Wayne Newton,” she chuckled at her own joke before it had the chance to come out of her mouth “I fear that this deceptively small beast has felled me. I lay here, trapped by its powerful grasp, unable to escape. Please, Wayne Newton, flee before you suffer the same fate.”

“I refuse to run and leave you behind, Minerva! I will save you!” Duck set down his groceries and playful ran to Minerva’s side. He crouched down and picked up Moony, then set her down on the ground. Moony ran off to scratch up Ducks pillows. He plopped down next to Minerva as she sat up.

“You have saved me, Wayne Newton. I am forever in your debt.” Minerva pushed herself off the floor and offered a hand to Duck. She pulled him up and put a hand on his shoulder. Her smile was brighter than any of stars in the universe.

“Would you help me with the groceries?” He asked. It was something easy, something normal. They both needed a lot more of that. For a little bit they worked in silence and then Minerva spoke up.

“I have something that I feel that I need to speak to you about, Wayne Newton.” She seemed serious and  almost nervous. The tone made Duck nervous too.

“Yeah, what’s up?” He tried to seem calm as he set aside the ingredients for the soup that they would be attempting to make for dinner that night.

“Since we finally fulfilled our destinies things have been very calm.” She started. Duck nodded along, listening intently. “And I think that that is a good thing. It is nice to have the opportunity to be calm and to think about something other than a battle that is coming. And now that I’ve had that time to think, I’ve been thinking a lot about how lucky it was that I ended up choosing you. I know that it was a somewhat random choice, but I highly doubt that things would have gone the way that they did had it been anyone else.” For a moment she paused. She looked as though she was considering whether or not she was going to keep going. In the end she must have decided to continue.

“You are someone who is very important to me, Wayne Newton, and I cannot imagine a world where we never met. You changed my life. When I had chosen Leo, he was truly just a warrior that I was training, but when you and I started training together, you became friends. I am grateful that you taught me how to be someone’s friend again.” Duck smiled at her.

“I can’t imagine a life without you either, Minnie.” Duck had been thinking about this for some time now as well. “I-When we lost our connection, it was really hard for me. Not just because I wasn’t as tough as I usually am, but because I lost one of the most important people in my life. You showed upon

and you turned my whole world upside down and I’m so much better off because of that. I used to think that I was just a guy and then you told me that I could be more than that. Maybe at first I didn’t want to believe you, but it got to the point where I wanted to prove you right.” Suddenly Duck realized something and what Indrid told him finally made sense. He didn’t know what to say next, scared of what might happen. And then it was like Minerva had read his mind.

“I believe that I am in love with you, Wayne Newton, and If what I have observed about human romantic behavior is correct then I believe that this is the point at which I should be asking you on a date.” Minerva’s cheeks were growing darker as she spoke.

“I would like that.” All at once Duck was, quite literally, swept off of his feet as Minerva pulled him into a bear hug. Smiled and looked up at her as they settled into something that was less like her hugging him and more like her carrying him bridal style. “And hey, guess what.”

“What, Wayne Newton?”

“I love you too, Minnie.”

[virginiawoolfcub]

Thought that instead of posting pictures of ballet dancers and swans I should actually...post some writing. So here’s an excerpt from The Cygnets.

---

Finally, we arrived at the studio, a simple brick building like the others on the block. The only thing different about it was the interlocking B’s on the door.

Valentine unceremoniously pushed open the door and we followed him inside and up the stairs to the top.

“Wow,” I said, “Lebedeva sure likes being high up.”

“She told me once that she spent her childhood in a shitty damp half-basement in Moscow,” Olga explained. “It traumatized her. She still never goes to the basement if she can help it, that’s why Val has free reign over her wine cellar.”

I filed that information away for future reference as we reached the changing rooms. Valentine veered left into the men’s room, and Olga and I went into the women’s room opposite.

It was a long rectangular room, with one long wall lined with makeup tables and lighted mirrors and the other with a warmup barre and several windows, blackout curtains drawn over them for our privacy. Along the short wall next to the door were lockers, each labeled with a student’s name, and along the opposite wall stood several changing booths with privacy curtains. Olga ducked into one of these to change, and I busied myself with putting on the layers of padding I wore inside my pointe shoes. First I put medical tape around my little toe, taping it down against my foot. Then I put two small gel caps over my first two toes, a layer of thin gauze over my toes, and a larger gel cap over that. Having done that, I put on a pair of nylon stockings - dance tights weren’t cheap, so I saved mine for shows - and took my old pointe shoes out of my bag.

“You can’t wear those,” Olga said, coming over to my makeup table by the door. “Lebedeva won’t let us start the new year with old shoes, she says it’s bad luck.”

“These are the only ones I have,” I said. Back home I had made one pair of pointe shoes last for at least a year and a half, often two years at a time - these ones still had at least a few good months left in them. 

“Check your locker,” Olga said. I opened the door of the locker bearing my name, making a mental note to buy a lock later, and found several boxes printed with the all-caps Bloch logo, and at least a dozen packs of high-quality dance tights, along with bobby pins and hair elastics.

It felt like Christmas morning. I carefully took out one of the boxes and opened it to reveal perfect brand-new shoes. Olga smiled.

“Take a picture,” she said. “This is the last time they’ll ever look that nice.”

“I know,” I said, crossing the room to the door. When I slammed the toe of one of the shoes in it, Olga jumped.

“Jesus! You know, I’ve got a hammer in my bag, I would’ve let you borrow it if you’d asked.”

I shrugged. “I’m used to doing it this way. It’s faster.” I continued pounding the shoes until both toes were soft and moldable, then sat down to shape them to my feet. 

Valentine poked his head into the room. “What on earth are you two doing in here?” he asked.

“Julia was breaking in her shoes,” Olga said. “Literally.”

Valentine raised his eyebrows and crossed the room to perch on the windowsill. He lit a cigarette and offered the pack to Olga, who shook her head as she hammered the toe of one of her new shoes.

“Are you sure you should?” she asked. “I mean, Lebedeva is going to run us hard, you want your lungs at full capacity.”

“My lungs haven’t been at full capacity in years,” Valentine said, grimacing as he stubbed out his half-finished cigarette. “I just needed a nicotine hit anyway,” he added. “Withdrawal headache.”

“I keep telling you, get a patch,” Olga said.

“I’m allergic to the adhesive.”

“You’re a hypochondriac, is what you are. What about a vape?”

Valentine recoiled. “Do you really think I want to be known as the sort of person who vapes?”

“Lebedeva vapes,” Olga pointed out, pulling a sewing kit out of her bag.

“When Lebedeva vapes it looks mysterious and glamorous, like she’s a disgraced Russian countess or something. I would just look like an asshole. Julia, your stitching on those shoes is absolutely god-tier, any chance you’d help me with my shoes?”

I set aside one finished shoe and picked up the second one. “Sure. You just need elastics, right? That’s like three minutes of work, I’ll do them after I finish mine.”

“Bless you,” Valentine said and ducked out of the room to get his shoes.

While he was out, I asked Olga the question that had been on my mind since I met them. “So are you and Val...how long have you known each other?”

“We’re very much not dating,” Olga said. “Val’s gay and I’m...eh. Doesn’t matter. We met two years ago, we both moved in with Lebedeva early. Well, he was already there when I arrived, I don’t know when he actually moved in. We just...got on, from the start. Lebedeva says it’s like we’re tuned into the same weird radio frequency.” She snipped the thread on one shoe and pulled out a lighter. “Need some help cauterizing your ribbons?” she asked. “I’m very good at it.”

“Sure,” I said and handed my shoes over, getting up to get a pair of soft shoes from my locker. When I came back, Olga handed me my pointe shoes, the ends of the ribbons now perfectly sealed off.

“Thanks,” I said, sitting down on the floor to try on my shoes just as Valentine returned with his. “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot my locker combination.” He returned to his perch on the windowsill.

I stitched the elastics on my shoes, then repeated the process for Valentine’s. When I handed them back, he put them on and went to the barre to stretch. “Thank you so much,” he said. “When I do them they start fraying after like a day.”

“No problem,” I said, putting on my own shoes and sinking into a split on the floor. Olga went to the barre too, and bend backwards so far that her ethereal-blonde ponytail brushed the floor.

“That’s just creepy,” Valentine said. “Spines should not do that.”

Olga straightened up, then folded forward, nose to her knees. Valentine shook his head. “Weirdo.”

We spent another hour or so stretching in near-silence (aside from occasional loud pops from our joints) before other students started filtering in and Valentine left, blowing us a kiss on his way out.

Pip sat at the makeup table furthest from the door to stitch her pointe shoes and pulled a pale pink lipstick out of her bag.

“Where did you get that?” Kate, another one of the new students, asked. “I thought MAC discontinued that color years ago.”

“I have my ways,” Pip said. “It was my mother’s signature color, and when she heard they were discontinuing it she bought up our local shop’s entire remaining stock. Then a few years ago she had some kind of mental break, stopped wearing makeup and jewelry and dyeing her hair, and fucked off to some kind of yoga retreat in India, so now I’m stuck with enough of this stuff for three lifetimes.” She quickly applied the lipstick and pursed her lips. “It’s kinda grown on me though.”

“It suits you,” I said. It did - the floral pink popped against her creamy skin and dark curls.

“Thanks,” Pip said, sewing a ribbon onto one of her shoes. 

[dearleggy]

Dear Leggy, Sixty

April 29, 2018

Dear Leggy:

Only a year has gone by since we last wrote. Only a year has gone by and we are both in love. A year has gone by and we are both in love and we are both happy. We are both happy and in love and the time keeps passing without deference for my need to tell you everything. Inconsiderate shit, time.

I have three new topics that are extremely important that I share. So important that I wrote them down in my notebook to tell you. One two three. And I will get to them but I have to say that I only now just remembered that I didn't send you a Valentine's poem on SoundCloud this year and I don't have a particularly good reason except that I forgot because I was busy focusing on my horse prince who probably would not have minded a brief detour to allow me to send you something. He likes you, if you recall. You two exchanged words of praise through me and I liked being that love conduit. After our weekend all together in the desert, he commented how great it was that we all found each other, all these friends with no children. I don't know if he meant to link the two in such a bleak way but that's how I heard it and I don't know if I responded the way I felt but I did point out the ones who do have children. And then we never spoke of it again.

Only in my forties do I think of the perceived baroness of a family with no babies. It's an unfair perception, honestly. There is nothing empty about living a full life. There is nothing injurious about choosing to focus on falling in love rather than bearing a child that has ill-equipped parents. The only emptiness is the feeling that one is not complete in others' eyes, if for just a moment, unless they expand their blood line. It turns my insides right upside down.

Speaking of bloodlines, I don't know what mine is! I mean I never really did and had some suspicions based on what other's, now deceased, claimed. But, in all truth, I am a full mystery once again. Like an alien dropped to earth to suss out humanity. Here's what I thought I knew. My mother's side is apparently some combination of Irish, Welsh, and Sioux Indian. This belief remains untouched and since I don't speak to anyone over there I'll likely believe this forever. On the dad's side, one hundred percent English. His father was meant to be a two first named wife-beating piece of trash that drank himself to death from whom my grandmother, now deceased, protected her children. Only not so! Turns out the dad and his older sister have different fathers. The one with the two first names is my auntie's biological father and she has found his living family and has discovered he was a great guy. A loving father and husband. A contributing member of society. A traditionally, intrinsically good man. Neither of them ever met two first named dad and throughout their lives they never pursued him because their mother, my grandmother, now deceased, told them he was dead. (We can save the discussion on her shittiness for a later date.) So who is the dad's dad? Well, science shows he was a Frenchman! And intuition and rumors suggest he was a Priest! And preliminary research implies a potential French Canadian settler (or the begotten of one)?!

I have always liked French stuff, especially the French work week. Also, wine and citizens' uprising and castles and stripes. The classic beauty of Brigit Bardot and Charlotte Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin (an Englishwoman but French by conjugal association). The cultivation of art and embrace of expression. It makes sense then, doesn't it, that I'd be Franco American?

Knowing where you come from seems to be a running theme in this life. People really want to know. It's part of you. For me, I've always been trying to get away. But when you think you know then you find out you don't and that someone took away your identity and made you believe you came from garbage, it does a number. Is that fair to say? I mean, for me it's not so bad. I have never been close to the paternal side of the family and never did like the grandmother, now deceased. I thought she was mean and her eyebrows always said she was disgusted by my existence. She smelled like cigarettes and had a smoker's cough and her touch was cold and thin. I didn't understand the dad's allegiance to her. He bought her a car and paid for her to live in a home and she never called him and certainly never asked about me. (She was quite similar to my own mother, quite frankly. The disdain for other's people's happiness. The wry smirk when anyone could find life joyful and playful. In her last days, she thought she was three years younger and she stayed there, at seventy nine, on this loop of time and kept circling back and around and around wasting the opportunity that time gave her to right her wrongs with candor.)  For the dad, I wonder if he feels unwitting. Or some kind of alternate universe Oedipus. In being the black sheep of the family, the long hair hippy pacifist that left Oregon for San Francisco, he became the father that he was told was his. A person who was a fiction. A man to whom he had no blood connection. How would that make a man feel other than lost?

When we went on our vortex road trip two summers ago, the dad fell in love with the archangel Michael at Lake Louise and I knew he was a christian at heart. When the siblings began sharing rumors of his father, a Catholic Priest, there was no doubt in my mind that the dad would be a child of the church. Not a one. The imprint was making itself known. So, now, sixty five years after his entrance to this earth, the dad is looking for his father, a man of god, and I am just sitting here shaking my head that someone could hold on to a lie for so very long. I've debated changing my name. I'm not a _____. And neither is my brother. We could be Denueves or Chamberlains or Coutoures or Pettits. We could be anyone else.

I managed to tell you one of the things. I have more.

I love you.

Always.

  p.s. I'm posting this

[alphacrone]

bitty dates anonther falconer au

so the graduation kiss doesn’t happen

and bitty tries to move on and jack goes onto join the falconers

and there’s some falcs family get-together early on in the pre-season and bob and alicia can’t make it for Reasons

so jack invites his other family

which -- is sort of a terrible idea bc Tater’s flying solo so he adopts Ransom and Holster and shenanigans happen immediately

(think Tater and Bitty doing lifts on the ice but with ransom and holster and alcohol)

and shitty’s hanging all over jack because they haven’t seen each other in weeks and he introduces himself to everyone as jack’s brother -- “but not like a lame- ass biological brother, a brother of the heart” -- and lardo’s somehow got all these falcs rookies following her around like little ducklings

so bits is kind of off by himself, hovering near the refreshments to monitor which pies are most popular

(he might be distancing himself from jack on purpose. he might be trying to move on. it might be really hard.)

one of the rookies (is it poots? probably) comes up to grab a HUGE ASS slice from the peach pie and makes really inappropriate noises while shoveling it down

“dude this shit is SO GOOD,” he says, then realizes he’s talking to a really cute guy and tries to remember what manners are. “um, hey, i’m ian”

“b- eric. and thank you, i worked hard on that pie”

and ian’s all DUDE NO SHIT REALLY and, again, remembers he’s talking to a really cute guy who probably is attracted to normal human beings and adds, “so, you here with zimmermann’s crew?” 

and b’s all, “yeah, jack’s one of my best friends, we were so excited he asked us to come, blah blah blah”

so meanwhile jack’s been feeling weird all afternoon and it’s not just because shitty’s been forced to keep his clothes on. he realizes, sort of belatedly, it’s because he’s barely seen bittle all day. he doesn’t Like That.

jack drops shitty off with lardo (who is regaling all these wide-eyed teenage guys with stories of her kegster victories while george looks on, impressed) 

and he wanders over to find bittle in stitches as ian tells him some story from juniors

and jack’s not jealous. why would he be? bittle makes friends the way other people breathe -- constantly and naturally. jack is a little sad bittle would rather talk to some rando than him, but he tries not to think about that. 

the samwell crew crashes at jack’s “’swawesome bachelor pad” that night, shitty in jack’s bed, bitty and lardo in the guest room, ransom and holster on the pull-out in the living room

except- shitty disappears early on into the evening and bittle slips into jack’s room before midnight, incredibly cranky, and flops onto the empty side of jack’s bed, half-asleep

“i’ve been sexiled,” he grumbles, shoving his phone onto the bedside table and sighing loudly. “burn your guest room sheets in the morning.” 

jack laughs and turns over to face bittle, whose eyes keep fluttering open and shut, nose scrunched up in annoyance. it’s the cutest fucking thing jack’s ever seen. 

bittle’s phone lights up and bittle grabs at it blindly, huffing in laughter as he reads the message. 

“ian,” he clarifies, when jack asks who would be texting him at this hour. “we exchanged numbers before he went home” 

again, nothing jack should be jealous of. he and bittle text all the time. but they had to build up to that, when they first actually became friends, texting only for class- and practice-related things, then when bittle was drunk, then on roadies when they were at separate ends of the bus, eventually reaching their best friend-level of texting-

jack wasn’t jealous that a stranger was already at the midnight-texting friendship level with bittle. why would he be jealous?

before he can ask about it, though, bittle’s asleep, on top of the covers and clutching his phone. jack bites his lip and sets bittle’s phone aside and very, very carefully pulls the throw blanket from down by his feet over bittle, so he doesn’t get cold in the middle of the night. 

in the morning, when the samwell crew leaves, jack hugs bittle just a little tighter than normal, a little bit longer. he’s not sure why. it just feels right. 

so flash forward, and bittle starts coming down to providence pretty frequently. sometimes it’s to visit a cousin at brown (freshman, right outta georgia, not adapting as quickly as bittle did, needs a familiar face every now and then) and sometimes it’s to visit jack. he hangs out with ian quite a bit, which jack thinks is weird and isn’t jealous of at all. 

but he loves having bittle around, no matter the reason, so jack doesn’t look this gift horse too closely in the mouth. 

towards the end of the semester, bittle starts to get really stressed-looking. jack doesn’t see him as much, as busy as they both are, but he texts bittle constantly with little reminders throughout the day: drink plenty of water, try to get a little sleep, ransom does yoga at the fitness center on wednesdays you should join him, take a break from baking to go over your flashcards, call me if you want me to quiz you on french i’m free for a bit, etc. etc. 

there’s one evening in particular where jack’s getting off the plane after a series of away games and ian’s listening to an upset voicemail from bittle and is visibly upset himself.

and jack can hear him saying something like “eric, please talk to me... can i come down tomorrow? i think we need to talk.”

and, still visibly upset, ian gets in his car to go home and jack gets in his to do the same but he- he can’t stop thinking about bittle. bittle never gets upset enough about anything to call someone. ever. 

so jack “110% even at friendship” zimmermann speeds up to samwell and sneaks into the (unlocked) haus, dripping wet, and knocks quietly on bittle’s door. 

and bittle is fucking floored and jack’s only real explanation was “ian said you were upset about something” and he’s absolutely tackled into a full-on bittle bear hug. (tiny bear hug. koala bear hug)

(and lord is jack making it hard not to be in love with him.)

he still crashes in bittle bed that night, in a pair of holster’s sweatpants bittle stole from the laundry, and bittle doesn’t tell him specifically what’s wrong but he cries a little, mostly over jack being there, and falls asleep with his head on jack’s shoulder so jack thinks he probably did something right. 

and  then. 

and then. 

he and bittle are hanging out one evening not long after that and there’s a knock on the door and it’s ian and, okay, jack likes the guy, he’s a team player and works really hard, even if he isn’t the most skilled rookie, but this is jack’s time with bittle, why is he here? 

but bittle suddenly has this really nervous look on his face and ian is practically shaking and they sit down on the couch next to jack and ian says, “s-so, um, jack. me and eric- we’re um. we’re dating. have been for a while. we wanted you to be the first to know, knew we could trust you with this.” 

and OH. jack’s sort of thrown for a loop, so it takes him a minute to respond, and ian’s getting paler and paler and bittle looks like he’s going to bite through his own lip and jack manages to say something supportive and bland, just to get bittle to smile in relief. 

and he is supportive. he’s always been supportive of bittle’s dating misadventures. and he understands why they’ve kept it a secret it all semester, even if it’s clearly the thing that upset bittle so much. 

but he’s also jealous. and it’s pretty hard to deny any more. but ian’s a decent dude and clearly cares about bittle so jack tries to tamp down those ugly feelings and claps them both on the back and thanks them for trusting him.

ian chooses not to come out to any other falcs only george. he’s mostly friends with the other rookies and they’re all young and cocky and...well, the ones making most of the questionable jokes in the locker room. 

(i imagine there’s a fun moment when ian’s coming out to george where she’s all “oh, bittle? speedy little guy” and ian has no idea Why or How she knows that until he remembers that she would’ve watched his boyfriend’s tapes pretty closely while recruiting zimmboni)

(i also imagine a SUPER FUN moment when he comes out to her where he sort of chokes on his words and accidentally says “i’m dating zimmermann...’s friend, eric” and for a terrifying second george has to prepare herself for two of her boys dating each other)

and because ian doesn’t know the samwell crew, bittle doesn’t tell them about it at all. jack is his only friend with whom he can talk about ian. 

so jack hears it all, the good, the bad. (luckily, not the gory details. southern gentlemen do not [REDACTED] and tell)

in the spring, things seem to get worse between ian and bittle. they’re both busier and there’s a lot of phone tag and missed connections and jack can see ian getting visibly frustrated with it. there are a few times he sees ian, when they’re out with the guys, straight-up declining bittle’s calls. 

he tries to stay out of it. jack’s an adult, he doesn’t meddle or intervene in other people’s business. but. but. this is bittle. bittle’s happiness is more important to jack than almost anything. 

(and wow that’s a lot for a guy who only recently realized he wanted to be bittle’s secret NHL boyfriend. but he’s an all-in kind of guy.)

around february (valentine’s day??) they have two off days in a row and jack’s pretty exhausted so he opts to spend it on his couch with microwaved pad thai and netflix documentaries. that is, until there’s a knock on his door. 

and bittle’s there, tears on his cheeks, looking smaller and more vulnerable than jack’s ever seen him, babbling on and on incoherently. jack ushers him in and gets him tissues and a beer and manages to put together that ian broke up with bittle. 

(which??? what a fucking idiot??? who even does that?? he’s bittle???)

and jack more or less says that. “why would he break up with you?” he genuinely asks. “you’re amazing.” 

and bittle cries again and says something about the stress of hiding their relationship and not making their schedules line up and all jack can think is that if he had the chance with bittle, he’d do the fucking work to make that relationship solid, to make it work. he’s now rethinking his opinions on ian’s work ethic. 

and pretty much jack plies bittle with beer and microwaved food and television and lets him rest his head in jack’s lap and strokes his hair all evening and tells him he’s way too good for ian. 

(his mother was in a series of hit teen romances back in her day and jack maybe learned too much about dealing with boys and breakups from watching them as a child.)

part of jack thinks that this breakup will be the end of bittle coming down to providence every free weekend. but it isn’t, and he certainly doesn’t question it the next time bittle shows up at his place rambling on about wanting to check out a new patisserie downtown. 

they eat too much and wander around the city talking about everything. that evening they take out indian food for dinner and jack runs through flash cards with bittle, then drives him home in time to join a party going on in their living room. 

(jack crashes in bittle’s bed again. but it’s different, now that they’re both single and jack knows he’s in love. but it’s too soon and bittle probably not interested, so he falls asleep watching the rise and falls of bittle’s chest.)

things continue on like this all semester. sometimes jack brings tater to hang out at the haus. sometimes lardo comes with bittle to visit jack. luckily, ian isn’t a star player, so his name isn’t brought up too often around the haus to upset bittle (and how could it when there’s a literal shrine to mashkov being built in the living room, over the TV) 

so the falcs are playing [insert team] here during the cup play offs or whatever (lol they play hockey in this comic what?) and jack gets checked mega hard, real bad, there’s blood and shit, definitely a concussion, maybe broken ribs and all that jazz. bad enough that everyone takes a knee and jack’s taken to the hospital. 

(is that a thing in hockey? in lacrosse you gotta take a knee when someone’s really hurt but that sounds hard on skates idk)

ANYWAY jack’s out for the game (season?) and like he’s gonna be fine but there’s blood and bitty loses his shit

i’m talking, he’s fucking calling ian to make sure jack’s okay, ian whom he hasn’t spoken to since the breakup. luckily, they’re playing close by (providence? boston? idk how playoffs work, if they play in their home arenas or not) ANYWAY close enough that the samwell crew packs into holster’s mom-van and roadtrips to the hospital

they try to convince the nurses they’re jack’s family but like...no

shitty meets them there and is on the phone with bob, the only person who is at all calm because he knows these types of injuries well 

and george is in the lobby and she sees bittle and has heard enough from both jack and ian that she likes the kid and manages to get him back to see jack (without his loud and huge cohort, unfortunately)

and bits cries the moment he sees jack in that hospital bed, even though he’s totally fine, bittle, don’t worry about it, just some cracked ribs and a concu-

he’s cut off by bittle kissing him, more out of relief than anything, because if jack is chirping him then he’s not dying and before bittle can realize what he’s done jack is reaching up and pulling him back in, kissing him as soundly as one with a moderate to severe concussion can. 

and so since jack’s out for the rest of playoffs (and the falcs don’t make it much further without their lead scorer) he spends quite a bit of time, um, recuperating  in bittle’s bed at samwell, and then in providence as bittle finds a last minute internship there for the summer. 

so it starts about a year later, but it’s still the zimbits we know and love. but they’re a little more prepared. (jack has a fucking gameplan, based on everything that went wrong with ian. he’s got schedules for their skype dates. he’s ready to make this thing work forever)

(and it does.)

[fromhollywoodtobollywood]

Alright, people my first Bollywood movie is...

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (1998) dir. Karan Johar

This movie is...a lot of things. It is three hours long so lots of shit goes down. I struggle trying to fit this in to a typical 3-Act Hollywood screenplay structure  because it feels like two movies in one. If it were released in the US, the second half would be released a year later as a sequel to the first. But I digress...Let’s begin.

The story opens with Rahul (Shah Rukh Khan) and his wife, Tina (Rani Mukerji). They are in love! They are married! They are having a baby! It’s a girl! But tragedy strikes. Shortly after Tina gives birth, a doctor informs Rahul that she is suffering from severe internal bleeding. Internal bleeding that she somehow knew was going to happen? I’m pretty sure that’s not how internal bleeding works. Anyway, even though this woman is “profusely bleeding” (doctor’s words) on the inside, she still has the composure and stamina to say proper goodbyes to her husband and write a series of letters to her baby daughter (to be given to her each year on her birthday). I realize if I don’t suspend my disbelief, I may not get though the first 20 minutes of this movie. But seriously, they can’t find a medical consultant in India? I’m Indian, and I can name five MDs in my family. Back to the story: Tina makes her husband promise two things: One, that he will never cry because he looks ugly when he does. That’s going to be fantastic for his toxic sense of masculinity. And two: That they name their baby daughter Anjali. It’s a perfectly normal promise and a cute name. Anyway, she dies, he ugly-cries and we are transported to...

MUMBAI, 8 Years Later (I’m assuming this is 1998 based on the year the film was released)

Anjali (Sana Saeed) is now a super-cute kid on the eve of her 8th birthday. While it’s never established what Rahul does for a living, he’s pretty loaded by any standard. 8-year-old Anjali has a camcorder in her room and her own TV with MTV India. In her spare time, she pretends to be an MTV VJ like Neelam. Anjali speaks a charming mixture of Hindi and English that she clearly learned from MTV. She says things like “I’ll be back next week: Same time, same place.” Anjali loves chocolates and wants to be a VJ when she grows up. The character of Anjali is approximately my age so by the time she’s old enough, MTV won’t have VJs, it’ll just be Teen Moms. BUT ANYWAY, she leaves the house to meet her dad on a bridge and this is where things get a little...freudian. Her father is two hours late to meet her (so this little kid has been standing alone in the middle of Mumbai for two hours). When he sees her, he tries to win back her good graces with flowers, chocolates, and a teddy bear like a fuckboy who forgot it was Valentine’s Day and ran to CVS. In this moment, his daughter says she is “tired” of having to be his daughter and his wife (because she picks out his clothes). He responds with “Well, if I have to be your mom AND dad, then you can...” He doesn’t finish the thought because it’s creepy as fuck. But they quickly apologize, do a cute handshake thing, and head home. At home they run in to Grandma (Farida Jalal) who is leading a Hindu Bahjan group of older ladies. She is very pious and has the same shruti machine as my grandmother. Anjali runs in and greets her Grandmother with a TOTALLY APPROPRIATE “Hi, sexy!” greeting. If I had done this to my grandmother (during bhajans, no less) she would have smacked me. Seriously, why is this kid allowed to have MTV in her room?

We then see a speech competition at Anjali’s school where kids are given a random word and have to speak extemporaneously on that subject for one minute. It’s weird but at this point, not the strangest thing that’s happened in this movie. Anjali is pitted against a girl named Jasminder (like ‘Bend it Like Beckham”!) and of COURSE the word Anjali gets is “Mother.” She begins to cry on stage when her dad steps on stage and basically does her speech for her because she is sad. The audience thinks this is adorable and he gets a standing ovation. We return to Rahul’s mansion where he plays basketball inside near one of those Beyoncé hair fans. This house is off the chain. His mother implores him to get re-married for the sake of his happiness and Anjali’s. Rahul insists that love and marriage are something that only happen once in a lifetime. He also says Anjali is alright because she has the letters from her mother.  Sure. Because a birthday letter totally makes up for not having a mom.

The next morning, Anjali awakes on her birthday in her truly spectacular bedroom (seriously, what does Rahul do for a living?) and runs down stairs to a stack of presents that would make Dudley Dursley jealous. She pushes all the presents aside to find the letter from her mother. In a voice over, her mother says that this year’s letter will be different from the past. This year, her mother is going to tell her a story about Rahul, Tina, and someone named Anjali. Hashtag, intrigue. 

FLASHBACK to Xavier College in the late 1980s

Rahul (still Shah Rukh Khan…they didn’t pull a Chandler Bing/Zac Efron thing here) is playing basketball flirtatiously with a young woman named…Anjali (Kajol.) OG Anjali is smart, funny, and a fantastic athlete (although nothing they do resembles real basketball). However, we KNOW she can’t be taken seriously as a love interest for Rahul because she has short hair and dresses like a combination of Sporty Spice and Dennis the Menace.

A few words about the fashion choices in this film: Although this is supposed to be the 1980s, everyone is dressed like it’s the late 90s. Rahul runs around campus in that GAP sweatshirt and Ralph Lauren rugby shirts that were ubiquitous in the late 1990s. OG Anjali wears a lot of cute but anachronistic, DKNY, Adidas, and Nike separates. No one wears a mullet, no one has feathered/permed hair, nobody’s jeans are acid washed. I have no problem with flashbacks in movies but the fashion and hairstyling make it seem like this is still 1998. Also, does Bollywood have a pass when it comes to showing licensed products and characters? So far I’ve seen a Tweety Bird, a Coke logo, a Pepsi machine, and a background character carrying a Mickey Mouse binder. It doesn’t feel like intentional product placement and I wonder how they got away with this.

Back to OG Anjali and Rahul. While they play “basketball” one accuses the other of cheating and they get in a fight. This brings us to our first SONG AND DANCE BREAK. Honestly, this is why I signed up for watching Bollywood movies. Unfortunately, there are no subtitles for the songs so I can only guess what they are about based on context clues. This one appears to be about Rahul and Anjali’s basketball fight which happened in private but is discussed on the campus radio station. So Anjali dances with her friends, Rahul dances with his and by the end of the song, they are friends again. The song has a fun beat and the choreography is pretty on point. This is probably the second most musically talented school after East High (What team? WILDCATS!). This song would have worked really well as a stand-alone music video and single but of course, this is Bollywood/India so a song can't just be a song.

We return to campus as usual where the principal (Anupam Kher) is waging a war on short skirts. Meanwhile, he ogles a particularly attractive member of the faculty (and so do the male students). I want to take this moment to say that while Hollywood films aren’t always *great* in regards to how they treat the female body, there is something particularly noxious about the male gaze in this film. Sexually objectifying a student or a teacher is just a fun, quirky thing the men in this movie do. It’s especially troubling to think about how Bollywood portrayals of this type of harassment influence Indian gender politics. If anyone has a suggestion for a Bollywood movie where women are visually treated with respect, please let me know. BUT ANYWAY, the actor who plays the principal is actually someone I recognized from playing the dad in “Bend it Like Beckham” and the dad in “Bride and Prejudice.” When I looked him up on IMDB, I learned he is probably the most prolific working actor in the world. Dude has THREE HUNDRED AND NINETY ONE acting credits to his name. Congrats on the career, man. He is happily talking to OG Anjali, a good student and a “good girl” who doesn’t wear short skirts like “other girls” (kill me, please). Principal Malhotra mentions that his daughter (who lives in London but somehow goes to Oxford) is going to do her final year of college at Xavier.

When we meet Principal Malhotra’s daughter she is none other than Tina, (Rani Mukerji) Little Anjali’s mom. We can tell Rahul is into her because there is music and he stops flirting with another woman when she walks in the room. We all know he eventually marries her and fathers her child so this meet-cute is a little anti-climactic. The real magic happens when OG Anjali meets Tina. Seriously, these two share some LOOKS and have some palpable sexual chemistry. If homosexuality weren’t literally a crime in India, I’d like to see these two in a rom com about how they fall in love and scam Shah Rukh Khan for his sperm so they can raise their daughter away from the ever-present male gaze. They have more chemistry with each other than either of them has with Rahul. I’m shipping this so hard and it’s not going to happen.

On campus, Tina faces a very specific form of harassment. Since she dresses modestly, is conventionally attractive, and the principal’s daughter, she is not openly catcalled the way other female students are but Rahul and his bros (in a pretty shitty flirting attempt) ask her to “prove” she’s “Indian enough” by singing in Hindi. Apparently, because she lives in the UK, that means she’s westernized and no longer “Indian.” There is so much wrong with this that I simply cannot. Sorry, that’s the westernized white girl in me talking. In all seriousness, Rahul is supposed to be the campus Cassanova and his idea of flirting is making a woman publicly “prove” her cultural identity. It is hella problematic #notwoke. Tina slays her rendition her rendition of “Om Jai Jagdish Hare.” This is a song sung during Aarti at Hindu prayers. Even I, a culturally beige-washed American, know the chorus and a few verses of this song because if I didn’t sing a long and stay for Aarti, I didn’t get ladoo and ladoo is delicious.

Now we get to the structural problems with this script. A half an hour passes with that is pertinent to the plot of the film. There is a student talent show that is completely irrelevant to the overall plot of the film and simply another excuse for a song and dance. It’s a great song. If they played this at a party, I would not be mad. Tina, Rahul, and OG Anjali essentially improv a full performance and it goes over like gangbusters. It also seems to be an excuse to dress Tina and OG Anjali like 2/5ths of The Spice Girls. Tina is Posh. OG Anjali is a strange mixture of Sporty and Baby. Again, a fun song but would work better as a single. The title song of this film is set among the ruins of a Scottish castle (seriously). For all the shit Rahul gave Tina for going to school in the UK, he seems super content wearing his GAP sweatshirt while singing and dancing in the land of his colonialist oppressor. Sadly, the title song is the least catchy of the film and doesn’t seem to make much sense. Are they all having the same dream about Scotland? Is it a paid advertisement for popular athletic brands of the 1990s? Is it a political statement about India, Scotland, and British colonialism? Who the fuck knows.

We finally come to an important plot point. In an English class taught by the sexually subversive faculty member who wears miniskirts, the students are reading Romeo and Juliet. TANGENT: The professor’s notes on Romeo and Juliet are covered in pictures of Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. These are licensed images from the 1996 film. How did this get past Baz Luhrmann’s lawyers? Tangent aside, instead of asking the students specific questions about the text (or movie), she poses the super deep question: What is love? *insert “A Night at The Roxbury” reference here* Really? What is love? Poor Tina. She left Oxford for this? Rahul answers the question with the level of intellect and sophistication we come to expect from him. He says “love is friendship” causing both Tina and OG Anjali to believe that he is in love with his best friend, OG Anjali. We know this is not true because Tina and OG Anjali are the real love story of this movie. WHY ELSE WOULD SHE NAME HER DAUGHTER AFTER HER?

At this point, OG Anjali believes she has feelings for Rahul and becomes weepy-eyed. When she goes to him to confess her feelings in a wheat field (as one does), he greets her with a confession of love. He then retracts it without giving her a chance to respond and says he was just practicing for when he plans to tell Tina. This guy is the goddamned worst. Why are we supposed to like him, again? OG Anjali responds to this the way any intelligent, self-possessed woman would: By dropping out of college. Rahul and Tina are upset and try to get her to get off the train. She does not. Cool. Way to make a great life decision. Which brings us back to…

LITTLE ANJALI CRYING WHILE READING THIS IN A LETTER. Remember Little Anjali? It’s her birthday? She somehow managed to be a sweet kid despite being raised by MTV and a borderline negligent father. This is the halfway point in the film. Seriously, this shit is only half over. 

It’s now up to Little Anjali to reunite her father and her namesake. She decides to play a word-association game she learned by watching MTV-India to get more background information on OG Anjali. This misguided little girl starts the game by jumping on her father’s back and asking him what word he thinks of when he thinks of the word “sexy”. She says this while on his back. The visual isn’t great. Rahul responds to the “sexy” prompt with the name of HIS MOTHER. This family needs some serious therapy or they are tip-toeing treacherously close to Greek Tragedy territory. Anyway, when she says “Anjali”, he responds with “Sharma” (OG Anajli’s last name). While this seems farfetched that he’d say her last name when his own daughter Anjali is being carried on his back, it’s is not even the most bizarre thing to happen in the last five minutes of this movie.

Little Anjali and the grandmother ask more questions about Anjali Sharma. Rahul says she was his best friend in college. He explains that OG Anjali “wasn’t like other girls” because she enjoyed sports and didn’t “wear make up or short skirts.” “She was one of the guys,” he explains with a smile. I’m starting to think that OG Anjali is just the Bollywood iteration of the Hollywood “cool girl.” I want to take this moment to say that not all American exports are good. Sure, we may have given the world Diet Coke and “Hamilton” but this concept of the female lead who is “not like other girls” is hashtag problematic as hell. “Not like other girls” implies that it is somehow better to be in the company of men and masculinity than it is to be among things and people deemed “feminine.” While it’s on the surface empowering, it’s underlying message is steeped in outdated and patriarchy perpetuating myths about gender. Additionally, no girl is like all “other girls” because women and girls make up 3.5 billion people worldwide. Each girl and woman has her own interests, passions, and opinions that make her unique. It makes me truly sad to see other cultures adopt this “not like other girls concept” and use it to propagate problematic gender norms in their own societies.

That last paragraph was brought to you by my Seven Sisters education. Back to Kuch Kuch Hota Hai- Rahul, his mother, and Little Anjali head back to Xavier College to see Tina’s father on the anniversary of her death. While there, they decide to look up Anjali Sharma. Principal Malhotra says that he knows someone who might be able to help. Rifat Bi, the housemother of the girls dormitory remembers every student and as it turns out is still in touch with Anjali.

A note about Rifat Bi: She is a devout Muslim woman and when she is introduced, the Muslim call to prayer is used as background music. I am ashamed to say that as an Indian-American raised in an increasingly Islamophobic society, I heard that music and got scared-like white lady walking through Compton scared. I thought some “Homeland” shit was about to go down. And I’m a liberal! I voted and volunteered for Hillary! But as ashamed as it made me feel to feel fear upon hearing “Allah u Akbar,” I used this as an opportunity to challenge my Islamophobic assumptions. Rifat is a helpful and kind woman who does what she can to help the Khanna family find OG Anjali. When she gets a phone call that OG Anjali is engaged, she tearfully tells the family the news. At this point, Little Anjali (instead of crying) puts on a hijab and sits on a prayer mat. Although this plot point is Kellyanne Conway level ridiculous, it’s actually a very earnest expression of interfaith prayer and a rare positive portrayal of Islam. While little Anjali prays, Rifat gets another phone call to say Anjali’s wedding has been postponed until December because of astrology.

So what has become of OG Anjali? Well, she’s engaged to an NRI (that’s Non-Resident Indian) who lives/works in London. Her fiancé is a man and I was a little bummed by that (sigh, India). OG Anjali now presents herself in a more traditionally feminine way. Now when we see her, her hair is long, her eyebrows threaded, and she is wearing…makeup. Granted, it is her engagement party but she doesn’t go back to wearing track pants or jeans for the rest of the film. I guess now that she has feminized herself in a traditionally Indian way, she’s the focal point of this second-half love triangle. Her fiancé, Aman Mehra (Salman Khan) seems like a cool dude and he and his bros have some sick dance moves. If Pinterest existed in India in 1998, pictures and video of this scene would have been a bigger wedding trend than mason jars. Aman is also infinitely more watchable, charismatic, and attractive than Shah Rukh Khan. He is not quite the match for OG Anjali that Tina was but she’s dead and nobody’s perfect.

OG Anjali wants to take some time while Aman goes back to London to teach singing/dancing to kids at a summer camp. Little Anjali finds out about this by calling the engagement venue and eavesdropping on the conversation OG Anjali and Aman have about the camp. With new knowledge about the summer camp, Anjali begs her dad to go. He says absolutely not because she has never shown any interest in singing or dancing. Really? This kid watches MTV all day Does Rahul know nothing about his kid? God, he’s the worst. Rahul leaves on an “Exporter’s Trip” (so he’s an “exporter”...is that a job? whatever) to London leaving Little Anjali in the care of her grandmother. While he is at the conference he runs in to Aman and there is a bit of confusion with the phones when both Anjalis call at the same time. The men share a laugh before telling the other “best of luck with your Anjali.” Get it? Because women are property!

Little Anjali and her grandmother use this opportunity to escape to OG Anjali’s summer camp. Gotta hand it to Little Anjali for enlisting adult help. If this were a Hollywood film, she would have stolen her dad’s credit card number (I’m looking at you, “Sleepless in Seattle”). Anjali and her grandmother head to the camp and it’s actually pretty cute. Mrs. Khanna schools the Anglophile camp director on colonialism and goes as far as to dismantle his portrait of Elizabeth I. Honestly, I’d like to watch a movie about an Indian grandmother dismantling colonialist symbols and taking back her power but alas, this is as fruitless as wishing for a queer romance in a Bollywood film. Meanwhile, Little Anjali meets her name sake while dressed like a “Dora the Explorer” cosplayer. Rahul (Parent of the Fucking Century) decides to use MTV to reach out to his daughter and says “Anjali, I miss you, please come home.” OG Anjali hears this and briefly thinks Rahul is talking about her. In that moment, she realizes Little Anjali is Tina and Rahul’s daughter. OG Anjali cries dramatically upon seeing the picture of Tina that Little Anjali sleeps with. Shortly after the identities are revealed, Little Anjali leaves a message for her father with the sound of her sneezing and he runs dramatically to the camp. Remember, this is the same man who left his child to wander the streets of Mumbai for two hours.

Rahul arrives at the camp while the children are singing “Ragupati Raghava Rajaram”-a song I sang every morning as a child. Unlike my childhood prayer, this song has a dance floor beat. I think you could probably play this at The Abbey in West Hollywood and it would be a hit. If I heard this version while sipping a G&T and talking to my new best friend about the red carpet at Cannes, I’d be weirded out in the best possible way. Rahul walks in just in time for ladoo (sweet timing, dude) and calls for Anjali. Both his daughter and his love interest respond-that’s not a Freudian nightmare at all. OG Anjali and share a cinematic moment. Rahul decides to just stay at the camp with his daughter and mother while they sing dance out some feelings of unrequited love and play “basketball.” Little Anjali is finally able to show off her singing and dancing skills. Girl has some skills. All that MTV has really paid off. All these background kids are seriously talented dancers. I can only imagine how good Disney Channel India is.

This is where things get *dramatic* again. OG Anjali remembers she is still engaged to Aman and leaves the camp in tears. A little boy in a turban who hasn’t talked before, cries and tells her not to leave. When Rahul sees OG Anjali leaving he hands her the scarf she was wearing the day she left college. Has he really had it this whole time? Also there are a ton of continuity errors with OG Anjali’s engagement ring-sometimes it’s garnet and others times it’s diamond. Is there no one whose job it is to check for these things? There are so many poor, unemployed people in India. Bollywood could solve a lot of problems if they hired some people to spot and avoid blatant continuity errors. Economics lecture aside, it starts to rain and who shows up but Aman saying he loves OG Anjali and is ready to get married because fuck astrology. Little Anjali and Rahul look distressed.

Little Anjali decides to try a little reverse psychology with Aman. She tells him that he is a very handsome man and could have any woman he would want. Why would he want to marry OG Anjali? God, she’s going to be a monstrous teenager. Aman (jokingly) goes along with what Little Anjali is saying. He says he is handsome and doesn’t have to settle for someone “dark and fat.” Way to reenforce colorism and body shaming, Bollywood. It’s not enough that this movie takes place in India and no one has a “dusky” complexion but let’s throw a little fat shaming in there as well. Nonetheless, Fair and Lovely ™ Aman says that he loves OG Anjali and is ready to get married.

At the wedding, OG Anjali can’t stop crying/thinking about Rahul and Little Anjali. When she comes down the stairs, Aman sees the distress in her face and lets her go. He tells her that he wants her to be happy even if it’s not with him. Besides, he says someone told him “he could have any woman he wants” and shoots Little Anjali a smile. This guy seems genuinely jazzed to be not getting married despite declaring his love in the rain just before this. Rahul and OG Anjali tearfully embrace and it’s assumed they end up together. Little Anjali cries tears of joy while wearing casual western wear. There is no way in hell I could have worn anything other than Indian clothes to someone’s fancy wedding. Little Anjali and Aman lead a pretty solid dance at the not wedding. A farfetched idea but hey, the choreography is on point-a pretty accurate description of the film as a whole.

[noahsegans]

so because of his work schedule, J and i couldn’t meet up tonight to celebrate Valentine’s Day, and we made plans for tomorrow night. he’s gonna come over and i’m gonna make him dinner and include some of his favorite things. i made him a card and got him a silly little gift, but i stressed to him that celebrating V day for me isn’t about gifts of course, i was just happy to have someone to celebrate it with for real, since my one and only ex was a piece of trash. 

i get home from work today though, and he’d conspired with my mother. he gets off anywhere between 4-6 in the morning, so after he got off work, he came here, and he was arriving just as my mother was getting back from taking me in, and he left me a card, a ginormous box of chocolates, and a little mug with a teddy bear in it (i call him teddy bear, i got him one for Christmas, it’s our thing lmao). and the card, besides being addressed to ‘soul mate’ had a long heartfelt note from him that legit brought a tear to my eye because i’m gay.

this isn’t me bragging or anything, i really hope it doesn’t seem that way. it’s just that i’m such a hopeless romantic and i spent so long of my life thinking i was going to die alone and that i was too ugly for anyone to ever want to be with and there were so many times my loneliness made my suicidal thoughts even worse than what they were. i was a virgin until i was almost 27 and i would see posts on tumblr like ‘it’s okay to never have been kissed until you’re 19/20 uwu’ and that kind of shit just made me feel like absolute garbage because like......? there i was, fat and ugly and closer to 30 than i was to 20, and i’d never been kissed, i’d never had any romantic interests, and it just felt shitty to see that sort of stuff. 

and my ex came along and i was confused about his intentions. i thought he would be the one, but he ended up just using me and taking me for granted and my mom says i shouldn’t regret it because he was an experience, but i do regret it. i almost wish i’d remained a virgin until i met J because in so little time, he showed me how a guy really acts when he cares about a girl and wants a future with her. 

i mess up a lot. we actually just had to have a serious talk yesterday morning because i was being an insecure fuckwad and taking it out on him. i feel like he thought so highly of me when we first met and i’m terrified that he’s going to one day see me for what i really am. and that causes me to act up a lot -- i’m desperately clingy most of the time, or stupidly distant. and because he’s my first real, serious relationship (’serious’ is definitely not the word i’d use for my ex), i have NO IDEA how to handle a relationship. i’m just constantly worried that i’ll push him over the edge by saying something stupid or something, and logically, i know that’s not going to happen. he’s pointed out countless times that we’re going to annoy each other, that we’re not always going to agree on things, and realistically, i can see and understand that. but then my emotions come into play and i freak out.

so it’s not just about a box of chocolates and a silly little teddy bear, you know. it’s reassurance that he really truly cares for me, and the note he wrote was beautiful (it mentioned ‘lovers in a past life’ which is something we’ve talked about before). romantic love is not the most important thing in the universe, nor should it be. but as i mentioned, i’m the world’s biggest hopeless romantic. i’m in love with the idea of love, and all my sappiness, all my ridiculous obsessing over it, and i’ve finally gotten to experience it. with someone i consider a best friend, even. it’s just... important to me. 

though the box of chocolates is crazy

this thing could feed a family of four