#also I forget my brother's name a LOT because he's not Benjamin

[crazyk-imagine]

Play a Tune

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Assistant!Wolfe!Reader, Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Natasha “Phoenix” Trace (implied)

Characters: Assistant!Wolfe! Reader, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Robert "Bob" Floyd, Reuben "Payback" Fitch, Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia, Javy "Coyote" Machado, Neil "Omaha" Vikander, Billy "Fritz" Avalone, Callie "Halo" Bassett, Brigham "Harvard" Lennox, Logan "Yale" Lee, Penny Benjamin

Briefly mentioned: Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, Carole Bradshaw, Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe

Warnings: SMUT, P n V, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, teasing, Bradley calling the reader a brat (more than once), he also really REALLY likes his name (some might say it’s a name kink), fluff, singing, Bob is reader’s bestie, Pete gets deja vu, shameless Hangman and Phoenix longing for each other tease, only Coyote knows about their feelings, mentions of papa Goose and papa Wolfman, there’s a lot to unpack here

Word Count: 9,843

Playlist for PAT: We Are the Champions by Queen

Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis

Footloose by Kenny Rogers

A/N: I didn’t plan on making this a smutty one but then before I knew it, it was. I have no regrets

*Reader is Wolfman’s daughter and technically has “two” call signs, (Mave and Wolfman were close after TG and all the competing and Goose’s death. Reader easily became Mave’s fav out of the four of you [your two brothers and sister, who are also in or have been to TG]. Mave always took you with him whenever he was out working on whatever and you two were always singing hence Harmony). Howler is reader’s official call sign, courtesy of her pop’s and because if it was a good mission she’ll howl in victory

*We all know Maverick is Rooster’s surrogate dad, but he doesn’t want to replace Goose, so he chose to be the “Uncle” figure

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You fall back onto the piano bench, messing up his classic go to song. You push yourself up, cringing at the sound of the wrong piano keys being played. You turn to Bradley, “sorry.” 

He smiles and shakes his head. 

You spin around, “you mind if I try something?” 

He says nothing, gesturing for you to go for it. You nod, fingers gliding along the keys, a familiar tune enters the bar. 

-

Bob takes notice of how more than half the bar moves closer to your side, close to crowding the piano. A smile stretches across his lips, he’s the only one who knows. 

-

I’ve paid my dues 

Your voice drifts through Bradley’s ears. 

Time after time 

It’s you. 

You’re the one who gets the entire bar involved… better than he ever could. 

Everyone’s heard you play before but, he was one of the few who were never lucky enough to put a face to the voice. 

I’ve done my sentence 

But committed no crime 

He’s brought out of his thoughts by the whole bar singing. He notices the nodding of your head; he turns and starts playing beside you. 

And bad mistakes

I’ve made a few 

He joins in.

A gentle smile dances cross your lips 

I've had my share of sand

Kicked in my face

But I've come through

The two of you sing. 

And we mean to go on and on and on and on 

You glance over your shoulder, “come on everybody. I see some familiar faces and I know you know this song.” 

Bradley shakes his head; a smile manages to stretch across his lips. He sometimes forgets how fun it can be at the Hard Deck. 

We are the champions, my friends

The customers at the bar sing in sync. 

And we'll keep on fighting till the end

We are the champions

We are the champions 

-

Bob glances over at Natasha and Mickey (who aren’t paying attention to him, focusing on the way you make the crowd move in sync in a way none of the others have ever seen done as smooth as this before). 

The snacker shrugs heading over towards his friend. He stands beside the piano, too nervous to chime in. 

-

No time for losers 

'Cause we are the champions of the World 

You glance up to find the nervous man standing there, you offer him a smile, hoping to ease his nerves. 

Bob would rarely join in when it was the two of you or just you doing something just like this. He's always been more of a “I’ll watch a few people do it before I join in”. It’s gotten better over the years but there are times where he’s still that shy young man you met a few years ago… like now. He hesitantly smiles back, fiddling with his glasses. 

Bradley takes over, letting you move away from the bench. 

You grab Bob’s hand, pulling him closer so he can stand in front of the seat, you stand on now. You place your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to sway side to side until he starts doing it on his own. 

The customers in the bar follow along and sway with the two of you. 

The man with a mustache (whose name you still don’t know) lowers his voice, letting yours (and Bob’s) overpower his. 

I've taken my bows 

And my curtain calls 

You glance over at the other pilots and point 

You brought me fame and fortune 

And everything that goes with it

I thank you all 

You wave them over with a smile. 

-

Mickey and Billy are the first to run over, standing on either side of Bob, the former doing his best not to stand in front of their fellow pilot. 

But it's been no bed of roses 

Neil and Callie stand beside Billy (who’s on Bob’s right). 

No pleasure cruise

 I consider it a challenge before 

The human race 

And I ain't gonna lose 

You gesture for the other customers to quiet down, giving the pilots and WSO’s time to shine. 

And we mean to go on and on and on and on 

Logan shoves Reuben and Bringham in your direction. 

We are the champions, my friends

And we'll keep on fighting till the end

We are the champions 

We are the champions 

Javy drags Jake closer to the piano, pointing to the blond when you all sing 

No time for losers 

Jake shoves Javy away from him with a small smile. 

'Cause we are the champions of the World 

A wide smile stretches across your lips as you raise your arms, wanting to hear everyone again. 

We are the champions, my friends 

The beautiful sound of her bar’s loyal customers singing your usual tune brings a smile to her face and Penny can’t help but join in. 

And we'll keep on fighting till the end 

We are the champions 

We are the champions 

You move Bob over to the one side of the piano, beside the kid with the buzzcut. You glance around, noticing how the other pilots you’ve seen here on numerous occasions now surround the piano. 

No time for losers 

'Cause we are the champions of the world 

You turn around, spreading your arms and fall back. 

Those in front of piano seat catch you, carefully setting you down. They kind of expected this because this is the way you usually end whenever you’re on the piano. 

You smile to those who caught you, “I thank you all.” 

-

You practically hop back over to the man with a mustache, plopping down beside him. “Hi.” 

He turns, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “hi.” 

“You ever gonna take those things off?” 

“’Fraid not. Gotta have some mystery, right?” 

You pretend to think about it, “I think not.” You lean over, gingerly snatching them off him, placing them on your head. “Ah ah,” you swat his hand. “You’ll get these beauties back after we get to know each other.” You stick your hand out for a handshake, “deal?” 

Now it’s his turn to pretend to think about it. He shrugs, “I guess.” 

You blink once, twice; a shiver runs down your spine as he lifts your hand closer to him. “Oh, you’re gonna be trouble for me, aren’t you?” 

He stares up at you through his lashes, his mustache tickling the back of your hand when he removes his lips to talk to you. “Do you want me to be?” 

“You answer my question with a question. Oh, yeah, you’re trouble.” 

“You wanna play another song?” 

“Maybe later,” you pat his shoulder, standing up. You lean against him, whispering, “how about a dance instead?” 

He says nothing. 

“You’ll get your aviators back,” you say in a sing song tone. 

He can’t lie, he’s intrigued and has been since he first heard you and the fact that you didn’t just call them sunglass like every other girl who’s chatted him up… interesting. “One dance?” 

“One dance,” you confirm with a nod. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, sweetheart.” He turns, his dashing chestnut eyes searching yours only to find mischief. 

“Oh, honey, you don’t know what you’re in for.” 

Bradley narrows his eyes ever so slightly, “I’ll give you something to remember later.” 

You lean in closer, your nose bumping against his letting him think you were going to kiss him before you lean down closer to his ear, “I’m counting on it.” You step back, walking away knowing that he’ll follow (and if not, you’re catching up with Bob for the rest of the evening). You’re not even halfway across the room when you’re pulled back. You place your free hand on his chest as you set your other on his shoulder. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.” 

He raises a brow, “sounds like someone’s a little full of themselves.” 

You shrug, “what can I say? I got my dad’s genes.” 

“I see.” 

“No, you really don’t.” 

“Maybe. Maybe not. That’s why I gotta talk to you, get to know you, right? So, I can know if that’s true or not.” 

You click your tongue, “you’re learning.” 

He smirks, pulling back spinning you around once before pulling you back into his arms, your back against his chest. “Think you can handle this?” 

“Oh, I know I can, the question, can you, pilot?” 

A breathless chuckle escapes him. “You know what I do.” 

“Affirmative.” 

“And yet, I still don’t know a thing about you.” 

“In due time. In due time.” He hums. 

Before you know it, you’re being spun around again, this time you laugh, finding yourself letting loose. 

You spin around, bumping into someone, aiming to quickly apologize until you look up. “Maverick!” 

“Harmony, you’re here?” 

“Sure, looks like it.” 

“Still giving me lip I see.” 

“Don’t give me that look. You know you’re happy to see me.” 

He sighs, “can’t say that I am.” 

You scoff, shoving his shoulder. 

Pete glances over your shoulder, finding Bradley getting closer. He uses his eyes to gesture to you. 

Bradley clenches his jaw, shaking his head. 

“You forgot this at Penny’s yesterday.” Pete holds your father hat in his hands. 

You take it with a smile, removing the aviators and switching it for something a little homier. 

“I see you two finally met,” says Pete, glancing between the two of you. 

“We who?” You ask. 

“You and Bradley.” 

“Bradley?” 

“Bradshaw.” 

“Oh. Oh.” You stare at the young man with wide eyes, until you change the subject. You lift the aviators up for him to see, “now you’re definitely not getting these back, Bradshaw.” 

His jaw drops, “now hang on a minute-” 

“You still owe me a dance,” you place your hand on his chest, trying to push him back towards the jukebox. 

He doesn’t budge. “I did dance with you.” 

“Oh, no you didn’t.” You walk around him, holding his wrist guiding him towards the jukebox while you hook the aviators onto the collar of your shirt. “I want a full dance with the one who sings, “you shake my nerves, and you rattle my brain-” 

“too much love drives a man insane.” 

A smile dances across your lips, you look over your shoulder, “atta boy. You’re gettin’ it now.” 

-

You push the number to get the song you want to play. He half expected you to play his song but raises a brow at the song of choice instead. You see the look he’s giving you, “don’t judge me, Bradley.” 

It takes him a second to respond. “I’m not- I’m not just- uh- find your song of choice interesting. That’s all.” 

“Liar.” You let go of his wrist, standing in the middle of the bar.

Been working so hard I’m punching my card 

Bradley’s fellow pilots look at you in confusion until three other customers stand beside you dancing with you. The pilot interested in you sucks in his bottom lip to keep from smiling more. 

Eight hours, for what? 

Oh, tell me what I got 

Bob joins you. 

I gotten this feeling 

That time's just holding me down 

Now that he thinks about it, you and Bob are pretty close. Have you two met before? Bradley knows Bob has a friend that should be coming to town… soon? 

I'll hit the ceiling 

Or else I'll tear up this town 

He musters all the courage that he could to stand in front of you, following your steps. 

You smile at him, “glad to see you could join us.” 

“You’re about to be more even more surprised.” 

Tonight, I gotta cut loose, footloose

Kick off your Sunday shoes 

The mustached man sneaks his way beside you, holding his hand out for you. 

Please, Louise 

Pull me up off my knees 

Jack, get back 

C'mon, before we crack 

You slap your hand onto his open palm, letting him pull you close. 

Lose your blues 

Everybody cut footloose 

Jake leans closer to Javy whispering, “how is it that he can get the one interesting girl in this place?” 

“I don’t think that’s who you’re thinking of.” The cocky pilot jerks his head back, “what?” 

His friend raises a brow and tilts his head. 

He knows who Javy is talking about, but he doesn’t want to admit it. He gulps seeing Natasha smiling, watching as the bar becomes even more livelier than before… maybe this could be his chance to ask her out talk to her? 

Dig way down in your heart 

You're burning, yearning for some 

Somebody to tell you

That life ain't passing you by 

The music seems to disappear as you feel your hat being stolen off your head only to find that he’s wearing it. 

You don’t comment on it. 

He places your hands on his shoulders, letting you wrap your hands around his neck, thumb brushing against the edge of the hair on the back of his neck. 

-

Pete settles in a seat in front of his dearest Penny; his eyes wander around the bar, curious to see who’s here tonight and finds the two of you enjoying yourselves. 

A sad smile tugs at the corners of his lips, nostalgia hits him hard in his heart and clouds his mind with those precious and irreplaceable memories. He always hoped knew, he knew Bradley would find himself a good woman but seeing you two reminds him so much of Nick and Carole. 

The boy, now a man, certainly gained his confidence and flirting from his dad (Pete never quite knew how Carole accepted the dork he called a best friend, but anyone could see the love they shared so it didn’t matter). And tonight, he can see that flame being reignited with the two of you. 

Pete shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink wondering how his nephew is gonna be able to handle you. 

Wolfman was… a lot to some but still a damn good RIO (obviously since he was in Top Gun) overall your dad was an interesting man. He always found it funny when you didn’t quite go for the same route your dad did, but Pete and Leonard are proud of you non the less. 

-

“I can see the wheels turning in your head. What are you thinking about?” asks Bradley. 

“How you seem to pull of that hat better than me.” 

He huffs out a chuckle, “I don’t think that’s possible, but I’ll take the compliment. Now, stand right here.” He reaches for the aviators, slowly pulling off and out of your shirt, setting them on your head like you did earlier. “Now, we both look good.” 

“Is this the type of claim that a dog has when it pees on a tree?” 

He stares at you with a confused expression as he laughs at your comment before calming down. “I’m not gonna lie and say I’d be happy to see you dancing with another person.” 

You stare at him through your lashes, “then we’re in agreement?”

He nods, “seems we are.” 

“We’re dance partners.” “We’re together.” 

You tilt your head, “if we’re together, I don’t know because someone didn’t ask.”  

He squints his eyes, thinking back to everything that’s happened tonight. “Seems like you’re right… how about this, we continue our dance and I take you out on a date, a proper one. We can talk and get away from all this.” 

You know he’s mainly referring to the crowd. “As long as we can trade back.” 

He sucks in air through his teeth, “I don’t know, I think I look good right now.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “cocky pilots.” 

He smirks, leaning down to whisper, “you have yet to find out how cocky I can be.” 

You scoff, turning your head to the side, unable to take his “flirting” at this current moment. “You’re so gonna be trouble for me.” 

He shakes his head, unwrapping your arms from him. 

You open your mouth to ask him what’s going on, you’re walking towards the register settling your tabs. “Brad-” 

He shushes you, “this is a pre-date to our actual date.” 

“Pre-date?” 

“Just keep quiet while I take care of you.” 

You narrow your eyes at the bar top, mimicking him under your breath. 

-

Pete chuckles, finding the situation amusing reminding him of when Nick was just beginning to woo Carole.

You hear him and make your way over to him. “Why didn’t you tell me he was such a- a-” 

“Such a?” Pete asks with a smirk, finding this whole thing hilarious. 

“A punk.” 

The laugh that was waiting to escape gets caught in his throat. “That’s one way to describe him.” 

“I mean, I know I’m no saint but jeez, am I that bad?” 

“You? No. No,” he shakes his head. “…Maybe a little but it’s okay.” 

You shove his shoulder, “you’re supposed to be nice to me.” 

“You wanted an honest answer.” 

“I never asked for an honest answer.” 

“I thought it was implied.” 

“You thought-” You narrow your eyes at him, “you’re an evil, evil man, Maverick.”

He lets out a hearty chuckle, “oh, my call sign. I’m in trouble now, aren’t I?” 

Bradley wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back. He leans down to whisper, “I gotta talk to Mav for sec, you mind talkin’ to Penny in the meantime?” 

You turn your head, tilting it up to look at him, “you just don’t want me to ease drop on your boy talk, huh?” 

There’s that smirk he’s come to know and have a very strong liking to. “Humor me, won’t you?” 

“Fine, fine. Have your boy talk.” You wave him off, detaching yourself from him. 

“It’s not boy talk, that sounds weird.” 

“You’re the one that said it first,” you argue. 

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. 

“See now with the way you’re silent. I win.” 

He scoffs, shaking his head. “No, no, you really don’t.” 

“Oh, but I do, Bradshaw.” 

He slaps his hand over his heart, “oh, last name. You wound me.” 

“You’ll get over it.” 

He shakes his head, watching you lean over the counter, talking to Penny before turning to Pete. Bradley leans over, giving Pete a side hug, whispering, “I’m takin’ her out on a proper date.” His uncle gives him a smile, nodding, “you treat her right, okay?” 

“Of course, I am. What kind of man do you take me for, huh?” Pete shakes his head, “I’m just trying to warn you. You mess with her; you’ll be in for a world of hurt. Her words, not mine.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just doing what you said.” 

“Oh, yeah and what’s that?” 

“Don’t think.” 

The smile falls from his face. 

“Bradley-” 

“How can I think about anything when it feels so right.” 

It feels like he’s been sent back to youth, that nostalgic feeling has returned. Pete shakes his head that smile from before slowly creeps back onto his lips. “You two have fun, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Later old man,” you say, stealing Bradley away from him.

-

He watches as the two of you leave. 

Penny steps closer, leaning down so he can hear her. “You, okay?” 

Pete whirls his head around to look at her, “yeah. Never been better, Penny.” 

“What’s that smile for?” 

“Nothing, nothing just uh- thinking about the past.” 

“Is that a good thing?” 

One corner of his lips tugs upwards, “yeah, definitely a good thing.” 

-

“Come on,” he groans. 

“I am not as fast as you Bradley, give me a-” your cut off by your own screech when you’re thrown over his shoulder. You use one hand to push yourself up and the other to hold the aviators. 

You look up and find Bob dancing with one of the nicer, less rowdy girls you’ve noticed come into the bar once or twice. Your eyes wander around the room, trying to catch anyone’s attention to “help” you, only to find Natasha dancing with Jake. You’ve got a wide smile stretching across your face not only because those two idiots finally did something about the tension between them but also because you’re about to earn half, if not all the bet money. 

The last few verses of the sang play as the door closes. 

Everybody cut, everybody cut 

Everybody cut, everybody cut 

Everybody cut, everybody cut

(Everybody) everybody cut footloose

Your feet are finally on the ground again. You huff, smacking his arm. 

“What was that for?” He whines, rubbing his arm. 

“Don’t you have any manners.” 

“Manners?” 

“If you’re gonna toss someone over your shoulders like a sack of potatoes, you should at least have the decency to ask first.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wanted to get out of the one place that wouldn’t let me hear your beautiful voice.” 

You throw a fake glare in his direction as you cross your arms, careful not to break the aviators you hooked onto the collar of your shirt again. “Don’t try to sweet talk me now, Bradshaw. You’ve already got my attention.” 

“I do, don’t I?” 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know, it doesn’t look good on you.” 

“That’s rude, sweetheart.” 

“Tell me where your takin’ me.” 

“I don’t know if I want to take you anywhere now.” 

“Oh, now you-” you groan, “must you be such a pain in my ass.” 

“I don’t about that. I mean unless you’re into that kind of thing,” he winks at you. 

You throw your head back, laughing. “You just don’t stop, do you?” 

“Nope. Guess you were right. You do have your hands full with me.” 

You bite your lip to prevent you from smiling more but fail. “Take me away or lose your one chance to talk to me.” 

“Get in the car.” 

“Bossy.” 

A smack fills the air. 

You glance over your shoulder, mouth agape. 

“Don’t talk back to me,” he says as if that excuses him from smacking your ass. 

“You are not the boss of me, mister.” 

He hums, “that’s what you think.” 

You roll your eyes, ready to open the door when he beats you to it. You stare at him for a second. “So, you can be a gentleman?” 

“Who says I’m not?” 

“No one. No one.” 

He hops into the driver’s seat, shutting the door. “If I let you choose the music, will I regret it?” 

You shake your head, “no… but something tells me with the way you dress, we’ll be fine.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks with a curious tone. 

“Your style is a little outdated compared to everyone else but, I think it suits you.” You snatch your hat off his head, placing it onto its rightful place. 

“That hardly seems fair.” 

“What does?” 

“The fact that you got your hat back and I don’t have my aviators.” 

You let out a quiet huh. “Guess you’re right. Turn towards me.” 

He turns, you carefully set the glasses on him, staring at him once they’re on him. “What is it?” asks Bradley. 

“You look very…” you peck his lips, “handsome.” You pull back, leaning into the seat, waiting for him to drive. 

He turns his head towards you, “again, that hardly seems fair.” 

“What does?” 

“You got the first kiss and here I was being all cute, waiting for the right time. Shame,” he shakes his head, further adding to the joke. 

The corners of your lips tilt up ever so slightly, one side off to the side; you scoot closer to the middle console, placing your hand on his thigh. “Oh, darlin’ we’ll be doing a lot more than what we’ve been doing tonight.” 

Bradley shakes his head, “will we now?” 

You tilt your head to the side, resting it on the seat, “that all depends on you,” you pat his thigh. 

He starts the car, pulling out of the parking lot, “promises, promises.” 

You lift your hand off his thigh. 

He stops you from taking your hand off him and sets it back on his thigh, letting his hand weigh down on yours. 

“That will be fulfilled.” 

He hums, “don’t temp me.” 

“Oh,” you shake your head, “I would never.” 

The drive is nice; it’s quiet, the wind blowing through your hair as you keep one hand on your head to prevent you from losing your hat. “Where we going?” you ask. 

He doesn’t say anything for a second. 

You cut him off before he can even answer. “Do you feel that?” 

“Feel what?” 

“Is it- is it raining?” 

“What? No.” 

Not even five minutes later, it’s pouring. 

You ask him if he knows where the closest supermarket in your neighborhood is, which he does, you direct him to your house after he passes the store’s parking lot. 

-

You two run out of the car, you hurry to open the door. 

“Come on. Open it, open it.” 

“I am trying,” you hiss at him. 

“Okay… could you try to open it faster?” 

“I am this close,” you pinch your fingers, “to leaving you out here.” 

“Your fingers are touching,” he points out. 

“Exactly, so don’t temp me.” 

“Don’t be like that.” You open the door, shoving your hand onto his chest, “ah ah.” 

“What?” 

“You were nothing but mean to me when I was rushing to open the door. That’s very rude of you, you know.” 

“I’ll make it up to you when my clothes aren’t sticking to me.” 

“Promises, promises.” 

“That I intend to fulfill.” 

You stare at him with a blank expression, turning around, walking further into the house. “Take off your shoes, you’re not tracking anything into my place.” 

He’s quick to enter, doing as you asked. 

You walk back into the hallway, holding out a towel for him which he happily takes. 

“So, you- uh- you live here alone?” 

“Usually, yeah.” You flip your hair over, placing the towel on the back of your head, wrapping it. You flip your head up, holding the towel to make sure it doesn’t fall off your head. You blow out a breath of air, finding him staring at you. “What?” 

He shrugs, “nothing. So, you’re usually here alone?” 

“Yeah, just depends on if my brothers or sister gets deployed in town.” 

“Okay.” 

“I guess you could call it a family frat house.” 

He chuckles. “Is it still a frat house if your sister stays here.” 

“Probably not but we don’t need to go into the specifics… Do you want to shower or eat first?” 

“I’m fi-” 

“Don’t tell me that. C’mon, we’ve been at the bar for hours with little to no food and if you tell me that you’re not starving I’m gonna tell you that you’re full of shit and force you to eat something.”  

“Alright, alright. I- uh- can I shower first?” He asks with a low tone, sounding almost like he was nervous. 

“Follow me. I’m sure I can find something my brothers left behind that you can borrow.”

-

You bend down checking the bottom dresser drawers for sweatpants (your brothers never wear anything but comfy, pajama like things around the house). You move up grabbing a shirt and a pair of boxers. “All of this is clean, I promise. I buy new stuff a few days before any of them come over, so all of this is new.” 

“I’d just be happy with a towel if you had nothing.” 

“I’m sure you would.” 

Neither of you say anything but the way your pupils dilate tells the other all they need to know. 

“Alright, bathrooms in the room just open that one there,” you point to it. “And you’ll be all set. I’ve got to do a couple things since the rain’s getting heavier. Will you be fine on your own?” 

He gives you a small smile, “I’ll be fine. The question is, will you?” 

“Ten minutes away from you?” You place the back of your hand on your forehead, “whatever will I do without seeing your pornstache’?” 

“Hey, hey, don’t hate on the stache’.” 

Your hand falls off your forehead; you state at him with a serious expression. “Oh, believe me. I’m not.” 

-

“Have fun. Just know if you’re in there for too long I’ll know what you’re doing,” you shout from the hallway. 

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” 

“Thinking about me a little too hard.” 

Bradley looks down, realizing that you did see the bulge in his shorts. His top lips curls in annoyance, this is not how he wanted you to see him… at least, right now. 

-

You make sure all the windows and doors are locked and closed properly before looking around your kitchen hoping to find something good to make that’ll fill your belly’s. 

You sigh, removing the towel from your head opting to clip up your hair. You turn your phone on, searching for the music app, playing your most recently played playlist leaving it on the counter away from the area you’ll be using. 

You aren’t paying too much attention to the sounds of the water from the shower, aiming to not think about a wet… naked… Bradley. 

And, your mind is straying, you return your focus to the food in the pan. 

Your soul leaves your body, and you lose your breath when Bradley wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you further into his embrace. “Smells good.” 

“I sure as hell hope so since you just scared the living daylights out of me.” 

“You look fine to me.” 

You open your mouth to respond when he adds on. “No, you don’t fine- I mean you do, don’t get me wrong you do but, fine isn’t the right word I’d use. There are too many that could be used to describe you right now, but I can’t pick one.” 

“Suck up. Okay, here’s the plan. I'm gonna put the lid back on, let this cook on low while you stay here or watch something in the living room so I can go take a shower.” 

“Okay,” he pecks your lips, letting you go. 

You run out of the kitchen, stopping in the doorway of your room, realizing how relationshipy that was and how it brings butterflies to your stomach as you think about how much you liked it… and him. 

-

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. “Hey.” 

“Yeah?” 

“You, okay in there?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“You’ve been in here for a while, I was wondering if you were okay.” 

There he goes being a sweetheart. 

“I was just enjoying the hot water a little too much, I guess. I’ll be out in a few alright?” 

“Okay.” 

-

“Oh, you’re still here.” You clench the top of your towel tighter, unsure of what to do with your hands. 

“Yeah.” He pushes himself off your bed, standing in front of you. 

Your eyes follow his every move.

Bradley bends his head, leaning into you; his eyes switching back and forth between yours, “is this, okay?” 

“Depends.” 

“Depends on what?” 

“How far are you willing to go?” 

“How far are you?” 

You take a step forward, placing a hand on his forearm will your unoccupied hand plays with the hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Because I know what I want to do.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I want to take my time with you, watch you unravel as I make you feels thing no other guy has ever made you feel.” 

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself," you tease. 

"It might be," he leans in, resting his forehead on yours, staring into your eyes as if he’s trying to get a glimpse of your soul. “But it’d be worth it if I got to spend the night with you.” 

“I must be pretty special then, huh? Out of all the ladies at the bar, the Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw wants to have his way with little ol’ me.” 

“You seemed like the only one who’d put up with my ass.” 

“More like I’d be the only one daring enough to do all that I could with it.” 

“Careful there, sounds like you might be insinuating something you might not mean.” 

“But we both know I mean it.” 

“We do.” 

“Stop talking and kiss me,” you breathe out. 

He cups your cheeks, pulling you closer as he invades more of your space. 

You open your mouth, letting his tongue pass your lips, mingling with yours. You feel the cold wall against your back. A low whine comes from the back of your throat. 

He pulls back, smiling as he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone. 

“Guess you like to be a little rough when you’re with a girl, huh?” 

“What do you mean?” He asks between the kisses he makes (of course, leaving a hickey or three for all to see) as he trails down your neck. 

“You could have easily spun me around towards the bed.” 

His breath fans across the place where your neck and shoulder meet as he chuckles. “You complaining?” 

“Oh, no. Definitely not.” 

“Good.” He moves away from your collarbone, moving up so he can kiss you again. 

Suddenly you slap his shoulders. 

He jerks back, staring at you with wide eyes and terrified expression. “What? What? Are you okay? Should we stop?” 

“Oh, we are not stopping.” 

“Then why did you hit me?” 

“The food.” 

“I turned it off before I came up here.” 

You scoff through your nose, “so, you did plan on seducing me?” 

“No, no. No, I didn’t. I actually wanted to talk but then you came out wearing this surprisingly,” his hands travel down, landing on your hips, “soft towel and- and-” 

“You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

“Yes!” spills out of his mouth before he can think. He pauses his movements, realizing what he said. “No, I mean no. Now you’re just twisting my words.” 

“You’re spouting the truth without my help, darlin’.” Your hands slid across his shoulders, moving down onto his chest. “Why are you wearing your shirt? I put this in the dryer, so it was dry and for you to have something of your own to wear.” 

His mustache twitches as he fights the urge to smirk. “I wanted it to be fair.” He hands travels down further, fingertips brushing against your thigh near the edge of the towel. “I mean I have something to rip off you, I thought you’d like to do the same thing to me but,” he extends the word. “Since I seem to be wrong,” he pulls away to take off his shirt, “I’ll just get rid of it myse-” 

You rip the shirt open, buttons ripping off flying across the room, bouncing off walls, falling to the floor. You glide your hands along the top of his shoulders, getting your hands underneath the shirt so you can shove it off him. 

The shirt falls into the crease of his elbows. His hands are on your waist again. 

“Take it off.” 

“So bossy,” he says with a teasing tone. 

“Says the one doing the teasing.” 

“Me? If anything, I’m doing the persuading.” 

“Is that how you see it?” 

He nods. 

“Well then it seems like you’ll be working hard all night long.” 

“Someone is very confident in themselves.” 

You scoff, “like you haven’t thought about it.” 

“Why would I go and do a thing like that?” 

“Because you’re a horndog and don’t know how to handle me,” you finish with an “innocent” smile stretching across your lips. 

Bradley’s eyes darken, he leans in. 

You find yourself leaning in without realizing it. 

“You’re gonna regret saying that baby.” His hand grips the back of your neck, holding you in place. 

You gulp whatever saliva was in your mouth, at the thought of what’s about to happen. “Am I?” 

He steps to the side, guiding you towards the bed. “Just can’t be quiet for one second, can you?” 

You try not to focus on the heat building up in your core, instead, you enjoy the feeling of his bare chest against your towel covered body. You hiss as the cold air hits your body; you know your nipples are harder than they were just a second ago. “Could’ve given a girl a little warning,” you grumble. 

He moves closer to you, one hand on your stomach, holding you tight against him. He leans his head down to whisper, “I thought you didn’t want me to be nice. I thought you said, you expected me to be rough with the way I moved you to the wall instead of the bed.” 

You don’t say anything. 

“Did I finally stump you? You have no comeback now? Aw,” he mocks you. 

“Shut up.” 

“There she is.” 

“You keep talking like that I’m leaving.” 

He picks you up, tossing you onto the bed, crawling over you. He gives you a cheeky smile as he hovers above you. “I don’t think you want to.” 

“Maybe not,” you reach down for his belt without removing your gaze from his. 

His stomach clenches as your fingernails scrap against his skin. 

“Or maybe I’m trying to annoy to the point you’ll fuck the brat out of me.” 

A shaky breath slips through his lips, he glances down, observing your moving hands. His head snaps back up to you, he cracks a smile. “Well, now that I know you’re plan. I’m not gonna do that.” 

“Or maybe I’m pulling some reverse psychology shit.” 

He crawls off you, removing the last piece of clothing he has on. 

You scoot up, resting on the pillows as you watch his every move. 

“Either way you’ll be left with a smile on your face.”

His hand wraps around your ankle, he jerks your body closer to him as he climbs onto the bed. He’s on his knees, heels digging into his calves. 

You can feel his hard on pressed against your warm core. You roll your hips, tired of the waiting and the talking. “Come on,” you whine. 

He shakes his head, grip tightening on your hips as he holds his breath. 

You can see the veins forming along the sides of his neck; you can’t help but wonder- “do you have a veiny dick?” 

He chokes out a laugh. “What?” 

“You’re holding your breath and I can see them on the side of your neck,” you reach up, brushing your finger over it. 

He shivers, “okay, you can stop now.” 

“Maybe I don’t want to.” 

“You will if you know what’s good for you.” You stick your tongue out at him. 

He tuts, shaking his head. “You have no shame, do you?” 

“Seems like it but, that’s what drew you to me,” you throw a wink in his direction. 

He doesn’t look back at you as he trails kisses along the base of your neck, being sure to focus on the area where your neck and shoulder meet then moving along your collarbone. 

You scratch the back of his head as he does so, needing to keep your hands occupied. 

“Someone’s greedy.” 

He says nothing as he fondles your chest, kneading one breast while he leaves hickies and sucks on the other one; he takes his time giving each breast the same amount of attention.

You don’t want to move, in any way that would let him know how much he’s affecting you right now, but your body and your brain aren’t in sync. You roll your hips; quiet cries escape you. 

He almost doesn’t hear them, but you can tell by the air huffing out of his nose onto your skin that he finds it amusing. 

You could care less as he moves back down you, kissing the sides of your body. 

His mustache tickles as he leaves hungry kisses against your ribs, sucking on your skin, leaving a hickey or two (that’ll definitely stays on you for a couple of weeks). 

This results in your body jerking, curling into itself. 

He stops, resting on his knees as he caresses your leg. “Hey, now. If you want to feel good, you’ll stop.” 

“But I already feel so good.” 

“Don’t give me those fake doh eyes, sweetheart,” his face is less than an inch from yours, “because we both know I can make you feel really good.” 

You lift your leg up onto his hip, heel barely digging into the flesh of his curvy bottom. “And that’s exactly why I’m riling you up.” 

He shakes his head, letting your leg fall of him. The hair on his lip continues to tickle you as he nips at the inside of your thighs. 

You huff, curling your fingers in his hair, tugging on it. 

He groans, the vibration of the noise makes you smirk. 

You know exactly how to rile ‘em up. 

“You sure you’re alright with all of this?” He asks as he stares at your glistening bare slit. 

You’re too into your thoughts, feeling cocky to notice Bradley’s movements. 

Your jaw drops open. You look down, his head pops up. “Why?” You whine. 

“You weren’t paying attention,” he says with a serious tone even though your wetness shines on his lips and in the hairs of his mustache. 

“So, that means you play with me to get my attention?” 

“Yeah.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m so close to leaving you high and dry.” 

“I think it’s the other way around, sweetheart.” 

“You are such a-” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, the taste of you mingling with your shared saliva as his tongue enters your mouth. 

You move one hand towards his side, poking him hard. 

“Ow.” 

“Don’t cut me off like that then.” 

“I thought you wanted me to treat you like the brat you are.” 

You gasp, partly because of what he said but also because of his fingertip slowly entering you. 

“I can try and tame the brat in you, but I want to make sure you can enjoy it, yeah?” 

You give him a mumbled response, nodding your head. 

“I’m gonna need you to open your eyes for me.” 

Your eyes snap open, you didn’t realize you’d shut them in the first place. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear, “you ready to start enjoying the night?�� 

You clench around his fingers in response. 

“Just remember you asked for it.” He doesn’t stop moving his fingers in and out of your core, oh no, he would never do such a thing. 

You fight the urge to close your eyes, wanting to see how he looks going down on you. 

Bradley swipes at your buzzing bundle. 

You jerk, head bobbing forward. 

He does it a few more times before he starts sucking on your clit and doing a “come hither” motion with his fingers. 

You can’t say anything, can’t tell him how good it feels with him doing- whatever it is he’s doing, your mind is fuzzy as he continues. 

He switches from sucking on your bundle to licking it.

He is the least bit relentless as he speeds up the pace of which his fingers are moving at. 

You cry out, hips rolling and thrusting against him; it’s hard to stop when you feel so good, so good and you let him know. “So good. So good.” 

He lifts his head, thumb rubbing your clit so he can talk, “knew I’d get the brat out of you so you can be good for me.” 

You open your eyes, staring at the ceiling, a shaky chuckle comes out before you can say anything. “Believe-” you moan, “believe me you didn’t, hon- honey.” 

“Guess that means I gotta try harder.” 

You smile, closing your eyes, “yeah.” Your head snaps up, staring at the devilish, hunk of a man, “wait- what?” 

He speeds up the pace, his fingers hammering in and out of you so fast you don’t know what to do. 

Your thighs are shaking almost closing in on him but with his one hand on your thigh, keeping you spread for him prevents his erotic death from happening. “Oh. Oh. Oh my god. Oh my god.” 

“My name’s not God, sweetheart.” 

A throaty moan comes out as your answer. “Shut- shut up.” 

“Say my name and you’ll be a happy girl.” 

You can feel yourself getting closer. 

“Say it.” 

“Brad-” you moan as he speeds up his pace even more, sucking on your buzzing bundle again. How is it possible for him to go this fast and not get a wrist or finger cramp? Why are you thinking about that right now? “Oh. Oh. Brad- ohhh- Brad-” is all that slips off your tongue. 

He moves away from your heat with a pop, you groan in annoyance. 

Your hands clench the sheets between your hands, not wanting to rip his hair out (because boy, oh boy, does he make you feel like a winner). 

“Come on, sweetheart. Just a few more letters.” 

You throw your head back, mouth agape wanting to say more but with the way your body tingles, it doesn’t happen. 

Bradley’s hand sneaks its way up your torso, playing with your gorgeous tits for a few minutes; tugging and pulling at your nipples, wanting to make you feel good (and his touch everywhere) right now until he can properly have his way with you. 

You can feel his hand on your neck, and you know he can feel the way your pulse increases at this motion. 

He doesn’t stop there though, he grips your jaw with one hand, forcing your head down clearly wanting you to look at him. 

Your eyes snap open, dilated pupils hiding your natural eye color. 

His ego skyrockets at the sight of your fucked out expression even though he’s barely done anything to you. 

“You say my name one time right now and I’ll reward you for being such a patient brat. How’s that sound?” 

You nod; you would give him anything he asked for at this moment if it meant you could cum. He slips his fingers into your mouth. 

“Say it.” 

You stare at him with pleading eyes and what seems to be a (pathetic) confused expression as you suck on his fingers. 

“Say. It.” 

You moan, your vibrations sending a wave of confidence and horny through him. 

“Say it and you’ll get what you want.” 

You shake your head. 

He sighs, removing himself from you. 

“Wh-” you try to say only to find yourself face first into your sheets, “woah!”

The movements of him behind you tells you that you’re about to enjoy yourself. 

His hands are on your waist, pulling you up closer. He lines himself up against you; you arch your back, hips rolling against him. He bends down, “all you had to do was say one simple word, but you couldn’t even do that.” 

You scoff, dropping back down onto the mattress, “whatever.” You nibble on your bottom lip, waiting to see what he’s going to do next. 

Bradley smacks your ass, chuckling at your surprised yelp. He grips your hips, forcing the lower half of your body off the bed and onto his lap. He releases one your hips, rubbing his stiff, covered cock against your core. “You still good? You with me?” 

“How can I not be when you’ve barely done anything?” 

“Just remembered you asked for it.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He slowly slides in, not wanting to hurt you (or blow his load too soon). His hips snap against yours, you lurch forward, unsure of how to balance yourself having never been this full before. 

You pray this never has to end until he pulls out, leaving his dripping, latex covered cock in you before he hammers into you once more. You rest your forehead against your arm, hands clenching the sheets and he continues to take you higher and higher on a euphoric level. 

The only noises in the room are skin slapping against, his quiet groans and the quiet gasps that escape you. 

You do, God, you want to call out his name so bad, so, so bad but don’t just to drive him crazy. 

“Say it.” 

“Say what?” You ask with a smirk. 

He growls, hauling your torso upwards against him; his hand rests on your neck, not squeezing the area but still letting you know who’s in control (right now). “Say it,” he hisses into your ear. 

“No.” 

His free hand slides down your side, moving towards the front of your belly. He moves lower and lower until he finds what he’s looking for. He doesn’t start you off at a slow pace to ease you in, he’s quick to circle your clit, moving at the same speed his hips thrust into you. 

Your moans are louder than before, you whine. “Roost- Rooster.” 

“Uh-uh. Say my name. Not my call sign, baby.” 

Your breathing becomes more ragged as he speeds up which you didn’t think was possible. “N- no.” 

A loud sigh enters your ear but you’re unfazed until the euphoria and tingling leaves you. 

You fall forward, bracing yourself before you could face plant into the crumpled sheets. Your head snaps in his direction. “Why?” You whine. 

He sticks his bottom lip out, throwing an unsympathetic pout your way. “Poor baby.” He leans down, pulling you back into his lap. 

You sit back onto his lap, his hard cock resting against the curve of your bottom. Your hands holding onto his thighs, hoping to inch closer to the one thing your needy for right now. 

His hand finds its way back to your neck, guiding your head back onto his shoulder. “Are you gonna be a brat the whole night?” 

A light chuckle escapes you, “no… not the whole night.” 

“Is that more bratty behavior I’m sensing?” 

“Bratty, never. Slight defiance, maybe.” You tilt your head, looking up at him, “are you not enjoying it?” 

One side of his mouth tugs upward, “good to know.” He pushes you off him, turning you around. 

Your arms lock around the back of his neck, your chest against his. 

He sets his hands under your thighs as he moves off the bed. 

“Where were going?” 

“Somewhere I’m sure you’ll be able to scream my name.” 

Your back hits the nearest wall, not hard enough to knock the wind out of you. Your chest heaves with every breath you take, anticipation floods through your veins. “Oh, yeah?” 

“I’m counting on it.” 

“Someone’s c-” 

His hips snap, this position much better more filling than before as he fills you to the brim. “Was the word you’re looking for,” he pulls his hips back and snaps into you once more. “Cocky?” 

“Don’t,” a shaky breath comes out of you, “don’t get too- confident there. It’s not- a- ah- ah- good look on you.” 

“Okay.” 

You tilt your head up, closing your eyes once they roll into the back of your head. Your nails dig into the side of his neck and shoulder. “Br-” 

“Come on now. Say it.” 

“Brad-” A high pitched moan cuts you off. “Brad-” 

“Just a little more, sweetheart.” He observes the way your mouth opens, the ideas running through his head make him slow down. 

Your head snaps up, “no. No. Not again. Please?” You ask with a whiney tone, hips rolling against his to make a point. 

He moves closer, his chest against yours as he focuses solely on making you cum right here and right now. One hand sneaks between your body’s, his thumb circling your buzzing bundle. 

You start clenching around him. 

“That’s it, just a little more.” 

Your breathing stutters, it’s too much. “Brad- Brad-” 

“Don’t give up now. You’re so close to getting what you want, sweetheart.” 

You cup his cheeks and yank his head closer, wanting to feel him everywhere. You push his head away from you, keeping him close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips. You stare into his pretty chesnut eyes and whisper, “Bradley.” You think you hear his breath hitch before you close your eyes, vision going white. You stutter his name in slow, unsteady breathes as he helps you ride out your high. 

He hardly slows his pace, giving you enough time to catch your breath. 

You open your eyes, blinking a few times to focus on him. Your chest heaves as you take deep breathes, your fingers curl in his hair gaining his attention. “If we- God, man what did you do to me?” 

He smirks, “I made you feel good.” 

You scoff, tugging on his hair; he grunts, his grip tightens on your hip and thigh. “You keep doing that and I’m gonna lose it.” You lick your lip, wetting it on purpose to distract him. 

His gaze does indeed travel down giving you the opportunity to clench around his length. 

He stills inside you, head in the crook of your neck with his mouth latched onto the skin of your shoulder, you can feel his groans vibrating against your skin followed by the faintest whisper of your name. 

You hum, petting the back of his head, “did lose your composure, big boy?” 

He lifts his head, narrowing his eyes at you. “You know exactly what you did.” 

An evil smile stretches across your lips, “I do, and I don’t regret it one bit.” You tap his shoulder, “now let me go.” 

“You sure you want me to do that?” 

You purse your lips, “okay, you cocky man. Here’s what’s going to happen,” you point to him. “You’re going to help me walk to the bathroom so we can both shower because I’m not gonna lay in a bed with a sweaty guy, unless you’re not staying then-” 

“I’m staying,” he interrupts. “If- if… that’s okay.”  

“Your cock is literally still inside me and you wonder if you spending the night is okay. Oh, I’m definitely keeping you.” 

He scoffs through his nose, “I didn’t realize I was a pet, sweetheart.” 

“You are, now take me to the shower or lose your place in my bed.” 

He pulls his semi hard cock out of your, now, pulsating core. 

You unwrap your legs from his waist, giving the hint that you want to walk (with his assistance of course). 

You two make it to the bathroom with little to no issues (all thanks to the hunky man).

-

After standing in the shower, letting the warm water roll down your body’s, relaxing you. 

It takes less than an hour for the two of you to fall asleep, you in a t-shirt and him in his (now washed and dry) boxers. 

-

Bradley’s still sleeping. 

You purse your lips, jealous that he can sleep some more than you. Your eyes wander around the dark, barely lit room; you stop at the sight of his shirt. 

You get out of bed, slipping your feet into your slippers not wanting to feel the cold floor, pausing to look back at him, sighing out a relief that he’s still asleep. Next time you’ll be careful when getting out of bed. 

You grab the shirt, gripping it tightly when you think about that last part again. “Next time?” Your head snaps over at the snoring, adorable, mustached man in your bed, tangled in the sheets. The corner of your lips tugs upwards, a gentle smile dancing across your lips, “next time, indeed.” 

You walk over to the window, opening the blinds a bit so little natural light can escape and brighten your room up in an hour but, in the meantime, you’ll settle for your headlamp. 

You reach into the drawer of your nightstand, grabbing the headlamp before opening your closet, searching for your sewing kit. 

You sit back on the bed carefully setting your kit in front of you, not wanting to lose your needles (you did that once and let’s just say it was not a fun night). 

-

Bradley rolls over and opens one eye; he smiles, staring at you, resting his head on his hand. "What're you doing?" 

You finish working on this button, you were lucky to get three done before he woke up. 

"Fixing your shirt." 

"You didn't have to do that." 

You take the headlamp off your head, rubbing your forehead. "I felt bad." 

"Why?" 

You sigh, "hang on." You open the blinds and run out into the living room, taking a picture frame off the table nearest to the wall, and run back into your room. 

You hold it out for him. 

He takes it, staring at it for a second. "Oh." "Sorry." 

"No. No. It’s okay… why- uh- why do you have this picture?" 

"My dad obviously." 

"Which one is he?" 

"You know the hat I was wearing tonight." 

"Yeah?" 

"Look for it." You settle back onto the bed, starting to work on another button. 

"Wait!” He pushes himself up, “you're Howler?!" 

You nod "yeah, you know who I am?" 

“How could I not? You’re all anyone talks about and your Bob’s best friend.” 

“The first thing I can imagine happening. Pilots like to gossip but I didn’t realize anyone knew I know Bob.” 

“I put it together last night. Bob’s never one to warm up to a person that fast.” 

You nod, sitting back on the bed, “fair enough.” 

He doesn’t look away from the picture. 

“Do you want me to put it back?” 

He shakes his head, “no, no. This is- this is actually nice.” 

“Is it?” You set his, now, finished shirt on your nightstand along with your sewing kit. You scoot closer to him, resting your elbow on the pillow, your hand rests on his shoulder. “How so?” 

“I’ve seen almost every picture of my dad, but I’ve never seen this one before.” 

“Yeah… I think my dad stole his camera because there’s a few others with Goose chasing after him and then the two wrestling with your dad looking pretty victorious as he dances around with his hat on.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle. 

Bradley turns his head, watching you with a small smile. 

You turn to see his star dazed expression. “You want to see more?” 

“In the living room?” 

“And the few boxes I got around here somewhere. If that’s alright with you, of course.” 

He cups your cheek, leaning in, “let’s do it.” 

Neither of you had talked about it, what would happen between the two of you the next day; you risk it and kiss him. 

“I’ll make the food this time.” 

Your eyes widen. “Oh my god! The food.” 

His arm wraps around your waist pulling you back into his. 

“Let go,” you whine. 

“No, no. Calm down, I took care of it last night.” 

You stop fighting his hold, “you did?” 

“I did, now can you stop freaking out?” 

“Maybe. Let me go so I can go find the boxes.” 

“If we must.” 

“Oh, shut up.” 

-

You push yourself out of bed, barely out the door when you hear, “are you wearing anything under your shirt?” 

“My answer depends on your response.” 

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone in this house ever get out of bed as fast as Bradley did in that moment.    

[penny-nichols]

Also I'm just unsure about Penny as my name. Like I like it as a name but is it *my* name you know? And it doesn't entirely help that even though I've been called Penny before and I've known that they were talking about me (because I'm so innately associated with Nichols that they're just like. "Ah yes, Penny". It's happened at least twice) its just a bit odd because I'm not sure I'm fully in Penny Mode so when someone says Penny and they MEAN Penny it takes a sec to realize that it's me

Idk just some thoughts like I don't really connect as much with my name as I'd like but also like. It's syllables that mean me I guess. Nbd.

[archaneanscribe]

Birthday Cakes

Peeta makes them birthday cakes every year.

He decorates them with little flowers made of frosting, and big swooping letters that say “Happy Birthday!”. Sugar is still hard to come by, but they make an exception, just for us. They owe us, they say.

I don’t care that much, but Peeta, he cares.

I think he makes them to make up for all the birthdays his brothers, and Prim, never got to have. In the day's leading up to their birthday, he gets sad. Not the nightmares, not the flashbacks- though those do still come sometimes, but we never can really prepare for those. On the day of, he wakes up before me, before the children, before the sun, and starts preparing everything he needs for the cake. 

So I don’t care about the sugar, but I do care about the cakes. Because Peeta does.

When it’s Lily’s (we didn’t name her until she was three. People looked at us like we grew extra heads, but we just wanted to be sure to not be too attached. Just in case,) tenth birthday, I wake up with him. 

“Can I help?”

“You want to bake?” he asks me. In a way, he means it. I have always left the kitchen things up to him. But he’s also joking with me- we’ve gotten better at joking over time, now that he’s more certain that when I say something to him, I mean it.

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t argue.

We don’t live in a very big house, because we discovered that big houses bring back memories we both spend most of our time running from, so the walk to the kitchen is short. Like every time, he prepared everything over the course of the last week, so he just pulls down each item from the cabinet one at a time. Cake flour, sugar, leavening, and vanilla. He asks me to get the milk, butter, (we use goat’s) and eggs from the refrigerator, so I do, placing it next to everything else. 

It took awhile to get used to the fridge, but less time than other things- being able to keep things cold year round is nice. We had one when we lived in the Victor’s Village, but that’s another time we like to forget about. I barely ate at home then, anyways.

“We have to let the eggs, milk, and butter sit for an hour. We can make the frosting in the meantime.”

Baking is a lot like making medicine with Mom and Prim. Lots of waiting and a test of my patience. 

Peeta looks peaceful as he mixes the sugar, milk, and vanilla to make the frosting, so baking isn’t so bad.

Next we preheat the oven, we get the pans out, and butter them up. After that, we mix the ingredients. Saying “we” at this point is generous, really. Peeta does it, and I just stand there awkwardly. I mostly wanted to see him do it, not help, and I think he knows that, because he explains each step like he was talking to Lily or Benjamin.

“Bring the pans over here and hold one of them steady for me.”

“Got it.”

He tips the bowl and the batter slowly drips inside, filling it up to just before it gets full. We repeat this four more times, then put them in the oven. Now it’s time to wait again. By now, the sun has started to rise, filling the kitchen with much warmer light than the lamps had been doing. I lean into his side and he puts his hand on my waist and we’re quiet for a while.

“Peeta?”

“Yeah?”

Before following up on my question, I kiss him, quick and soft, and very much real.

“Would you make me a cake for my birthday?”

He kisses me too.

“I can do that.”•

[organic-guacamole]

showtime

episode 211 let's go

ok first of all, this is the second to last episode guys... I don't even wanna think about how much pain I'll be in after next week's episode

mr mazzara doing the recap-

this is so weird to me and I don't know why

WHY DIDN'T YALL JUST ASK BENJAMIN FOR HELP, THATS LITERALLY HIS THING

is Nini giving out the cards a callback to season 1 when Natalie Bagley said that Nini gave her a card or something on opening night of another musical?

STEPHY AS THE ENCHANTRESS OMG YES

Ricky in the crown gives me Harry styles in that photoshoot vibes

he's so pretty.

ok but why did we never see Ricky and Ashlyn interact before? it's been like 5 seconds and I already love how they bounce off each other and it's just so natural

OH THEY REALLY DON'T HAVE ANY UNDERSTUDIES-

well that explains a lot...

so Ricky fell on top of Ashlyn and all that broke for both of them was their wrist-

insert Jake Peralta *coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool no doubt no doubt no doubt*

of course howie was amazing as the beast, were we expecting anything less??

Ricky is so beautiful and I will not shut up about it....

let me enjoy this before the makeup crew slaps mud on his face.

Nini and Ricky talking to eachother? in a civil manner? wasn't she avoiding him just in the last episode? hm ok

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH THEY CANT EXPRESS THEIR FEELINGS JUST LIKE ME HAHAHAHAHA THIS IS HILARIOUS, WHATS NEXT? THEY CUT EVERYONE OFF CUZ THEY CANT HANDLE EMOTIONS? ...ha

yes Kaden and Rico, my favourite east high boys 🥰

I mean....where's EJ?

THERE HE IS

EJ AND GINA IN THE BACKGROUND... doing something idek

KOURTNEY'S MOM IS BACK YAY

Howie is a shining star, ofc ofc

the smallest fOrk

can't wait to see the fork burst into song about how she deserves more than to be used to eat salad😌

the duster and the bluster.... ok😃

hi Gina!

hi- oh wow I didn't know Robbie Rotten was in this show!!!!!

the portwell look.

that my friends, is a married couple's look✋

GOSH EJ WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU

aww Gina's so excited for this

D word?

Die?

Delicious?

Dom Toretto?

"good, clean fun all alone with someone I dig...a lot"

sir that does not sound very clean to me

SEBLOS

Seb looks so cute standing there next to pope Carlos

DID THEYEY REALLY LIGHT ANTOINE ON FIRE-

I NEED TO SEE THAT

Seb's reading Carlos better than big red read the script in episode 102, this is great development after the "fight"

Kourtney really just made the best outfit for herself and let the rest of them suffer

the way Gina immediately goes to hold on to EJ after the announcement

"tonight we're going to put the U in UTAH"

...

"hey where are you from?"

"TAH"

SEB'S SINGULAR CLAP KILLED ME-

he's officially salt lake city's resident thanos

just wity clapping because for some reason I have a feeling he doesn't know how to snap his fingers...don't ask why

Ms Jenn do you mind encouraging your leads before the show? idk just an idea

pepto bismol product placement smhsmh

those flowers are bigger that big red himself-

*bops along to the opening theme*

that whistle at the end slaps everytime

WHY IS THE AUDIENCE SO MASSIVE

I guess they're all here to see Ms Jenn go on as a fork after Nini decides to *go her own way*

wow i am so funny

so they couldn't do many group scenes cuz of covid, but this 300 person crowd is cool? nice

OO THE VIOLIN GIRL FROM EPISODE 6 IS IN THE ORCHESTRA

HOWIEEEEEE

"Mr Caswell", he said, in the loudest voice possible while backstage at a show that's about to start.

Mazzara what are you trying to pull-

I usually like Benjamin but I don't like his tone

"iS yOuR wHoLe FaMiLy HeRe?" LIKE YOU DON'T ALREADY KNOW THATS A SOFT SPOT FOR EJ

"we've had some good conversations these past few weeks"

right so what's going to happen after you graduate?

what does he think of you not going to Duke?

what did he say about you giving the sweatshirt that's been in the family for 3 generations to a girl you're not even dating?

good old Mr. M

therapist Mr. Mazzara, they all need it.

start with Ricky though.

"Michael Bowen"

dude why did you shave, now you look less like "hot lumberjack" and more "creep at the gas station"

OH-

does she not like Mike anymore?

why does it sound like jennzzara started dating and now they just sit back and talk smack about everyone in their freetime

break the fourth wall-

uhhhh im scared

why am I scared

he's scary

hehe flowers for Ricky, obviously for Ricky, ObViOuSLY

oh boy poor Michael

this man is in love, rip

why does Ms Jenn always look at people with her eyes open so wide

LILYYYY

I'm only excited because I really like the idea of lily and Ricky being friends, nothing more.

ha this guy's got jokes

a MOAT AROUND THE SCHOOL

wheeze

also he's very pretty.

"the wolves and very talented humans"

how dare he forget to mention the very talented wolves and normal humans, smh erasure

"being nice, what a concept" ted talk by Lily who still doesn't have a last name

did she just say lol out loud

same with the hug emoji last episode-

go touch some grass babes

the way he didn't say no, but said he didn't know how the east high kids would react-

not saying he does want to date her but that's an interesting thing to think about, also another thing to write an essay analysis on just to leave it in my drafts for a few months

awww lily genuinely trying to help him

sorry guys, I've been taken by the Lily charm (didn't know it existed until now but oh well)

REMEMBER WHEN I SAID I'LL NEVER SHIP PORTWELL?

just look at me now

the Lily wink I can't she's so cute-

HELP ME I'M BEING HELD HOSTAGE BY LIL-

David Attenborough?

oh nvm it's Benjamin narrating the show in a really weird British accent for some reason.

STEPHY GOT MORE LINES YAY GOOD FOR HER

also is this to show that Nini doesn't care about being the star of the show anymore? the way she's supporting everyone else even though she's a fork?

I would pay for a special of the full musical ngl

OOO THE TRANSFORMATION WAS SMOOTH

shockingly

yo where did the makeup come from

man I wish I was a theatre kid

THIS IS STEPHY'S EPISODE NOW IDC✋

my girl is starring

"needs an X-factor"

Simon Cowbell creeps in

"it's a yes from me"

and them boom, he takes Nini and mistreats her horribly and then she comes back to theatre after deciding music isn't for her👍

"I thought she just hog-tied him?"

don't ask sebby, it's better if you don't know.

imagine they spotlight the wrong person and this dude is just some random person that likes writing down stuff during shows.

Ms Jenn just let them do what they rehearsed (at some point we never saw) or else this is gonna end horribly wrong

"help"

same Carlos, same

I love how seb is just his translator rn

I thought he said "great displeasure" instead of "greatest pleasure"....help?

big red coming out from throwing up to see his girlfriend star is the cutest thing in this show.

Ash and Gina dancing is so fun

I'm imagining them practicing at night at their home, watching the movie for the 100th time and making sure their one dance together is perfect

KOURTNEY YES

HOWIE IS IN LOVE AHHHH

I LOVE HOWIE SO MUCH

SEBBY

THIS SCENE HAS SO MUCH GOING ON I CAN'T KEEP UP

THIS IS SO GOOD

HOW???

no because I'm actually crying

I'm dead serious.

we need this musical released as a special

big red is so proud and I love to see it

Natalie: "if you do not by at least 20 dollars in concessions, you do not support art"

rando in the audience: "but I pay for ad free Spotify"

Mr Mazzara clapping in the distance

Gigi, the guy you like is talking to you, complimenting you and hyping you up

YOU LUCKY LITTLE FEATHER DUSTER

aw EJ teasing her about the chocolates in a way that doesn't make her feel bad? take notes Richard

JORDAN FISHER

there is no rest of the show idc Jordan is it for me

THE WIG CAP ON RICKY OMG

they look like they're high and having "deep" conversations on the floor

THE MEAN GIRL WITH THE EYES-

@sunshine-julie-molina YOU HEAR THAT

Natalie really just be coming for them all

Howie what is happening rn

I'm scared

"did you enjoy it"

"very much"

dude wants a kiss so bad

ASHLYN OMG

NO DON'T DO IT BECAUSE OF LILY, PUT YOUR OWN TWIST ON IT

I want a Jordan autograph please

just keep swim- oh pushing...

Gina is literally a giant next to him and I live for it

am I about to cry for the 3rd time in this episode?

yes.

Ricky's leg kicks under the table makes me so happy aw

the portwell glances will kill me.

ah yes, mashed potato snow

Mr. M.... I'm not a theatre kid but even I know you can't have your phone on backstage.

Howie please just do it

CHIP'S BIG LINE I CANT

I LITERALLY HAD TO PAUSE IT AMD SCREAM INTO MY MASK FOR A SOLID 2 MINUTES (I'm not at home rn) HES SO CUTE

oh ok bye Jordan

oo tea

NOT HIM BEING STARSTRUCK BECAUSE HE'S MEETING HIS FUTURE BROTHER IN LAW-

"we're all just glad Gigi has a big brother figure in her life"

excuse me for a few thousand hours while I laugh hysterically

THE CAMERA ZOOM ON EJS FACE AND EVERYTHING-

STOP EJ LOOKS LIKE HE'S GONNA CRY BUT I CAN'T TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY WITH THE STAGE MAKE-UP

someone else said this already but I think it's hilarious that they had to bring in 2 guest characters to create some portwell angst

omg this really is Cici's episode, found family is their thing

elevator music lol

I'm gonna bet that big red took the harness for his surprise for Ashlyn without realising what it was

did Ms. Jenn just....tell her most mentally unstable student....to commit suicide....on a disney show...was that....I'm very....well....what the actual-

oh and there she goes running off instead of trying to make it right

oh wow Nini's the hero, she's gonna save the show 🤩

😐

the judge is doing a sudoku

honestly if I went to the hsm show as well, I'd come prepared for this one too

Lily why are you looking like that-

I WAS JUST STARTING TO LIKE YOU DON'T MESS THIS UP

wow ok, there goes that.

omg

what if Howie was acting weird because he knew what Lily did and wanted to tell Kourtbut Lily threatened him so he was scared to-

anyways see y'all clowns next week when we all simultaneously lose all motivation for the week without Fridays to look forward to.

[denisn4te]

Obey Me characters and their assigned dogs!

Okay, guys, I have a cool idea! What if like as an assignment, Diavolo decided to give everyone a dog from the human world to see how well dogs from the human world could get with demons and the students were allowed to choose which dog breed they'd want it to be. The assignment was to be for a few months long.

Here are my thoughts on which dog breeds they had been assigned and how well they raised them.

~•~☆~•~

Lucifer-Doberman

At first, he wanted to just use Cerberus as his dog, but it had to be a dog breed from the human world.

Obviously, he chose a big and very intimidating dog.

He received a male dog and named him Damien.

Lucifer already knew the basics of raising a dog since he is the owner of Cerberus and all.

Within the first month, Lucifer began training Damien.

By the end of that month, Damien was probably the best guard dog in the entire Devildom.

Despite being a big and scary dog, Damien was actually a big sweetheart!

He'd always follows Lucifer around and get sad when his owner wasn't around. He especially loves doing tricks for treats.

Damien is only aggressive he senses harm coming towards him or Lucifer or when he is ordered to attack.

By attack, he just chases the brothers whenever they make Lucifer mad.

When the assignment was over and the dogs were to be brought back to the human world, Lucifer immediately locked himself in his room and cranked that record player volume to 100 all while claiming he wasn't sad.

Mammon-Italian Greyhound

Tried to sell the dog not even one days after getting it

Mammon didn't know crap about human world dog breeds so he just picked a random breed not knowing anything about it. His immediate thought was 'is this a rat?'

Mammon had received a female dog and named her Jade after Lucifer caught him trying to sell her.

At first, he wanted nothing to do with Jade until out of literally nowhere she had brought him a couple of Grimm.

Suddenly he was very interested after realizing Jade had a strange habit of finding and digging up valuables. From Grimm and small jewelry to literally buried artifacts.

Nobody knows how she does it and it's concerning that they had put her in Mammon's care.

Mammon immediately started to teach Jade how to do cute tricks to random people for treats and such.

Jade was also a very energetic dog always running around and barking at almost everyone except Mammon, MC, and MC's assigned dog.

Jade loves playing with the other dogs even if it's clear that they don't want to play.

Mammon was absolutely sobbing when Jade had to go back to the human world and absolutely didn't want to let her go.

He wasn't okay for a very long time after that.

Leviathan-Newfoundland

Just like Mammon, Leviathan didn't want to do anything with a dog until he realized some dogs were specialized in swimming.

Him being very associated with the ocean was suddenly interested when he heard about the breed Newfoundland. He thought the name sounded cool and picked that in.

Probably should have done more research because he didn't realize how huge this breed was.

He received a female dog and named her Henry 4.0

Leviathan didn't know anything about dogs and boy was it so hard for him at first.

Probably had to learn by watching animes, reading mangas, and playing games about dogs NINTENDOGS.

Actually got pretty used to having a dog really quickly and enjoyed it too.

Henry 4.0 was a really chill girl and likes sleeping on top of Leviathan. Just casually crushing the boy y' know.

She really likes laying with him while he's watching anime and playing his video games.

Their favorite activities to do are taking baths, going out to swim in the nearby river, and cosplay!

Yes, you heard that right! Cosplaying is a thing they did quite often and they always dressed up as duo characters. Of course Leviathan made the cosplays from scratch.

One good thing that this assignment did was getting Leviathan out of his room for when he would take Henry 4.0 out for walks.

Whenever Leviathan got sad he'd just hug Henry 4.0 and put his head into her fur. Henry 4.0 became kind of like an emotional support animal for him.

Leviathan absolutely refused to let them take Henry 4.0 away when the assignment was over. He even tried to hide her and threatened to summon Lotan again (which he did end up doing!)

Was very much not okay after the assignment was over.

Satan-Basenji

Satan is clearly the most educated on human world dog breeds and even though he very much prefers cats over dogs, he always did like the Basenji breed.

They are known as the 'barkless' dog and even have a somewhat reputation for acting like cats.

Satan had received a male dog and named him Benjamin.

Once the assignment began he quickly began to read books about dogs.

Satan actually surprisingly liked Benjamin rather quickly despite not liking dogs all that much.

They mostly just sat down together in the library while Satan read books and Benjamin would nap.

Benjamin was a pretty active dog and liked to play with the other dogs every now and then.

But just like Satan, he got mad a lot. Whenever someone got into his personal space while he was tired he wouldn't bark at them, but he had a pretty spooky growl.

Other than that Benjamin is actually really chill.

Satan also taught Benjamin a few tricks which may or may not be targeted at Lucifer and his assigned dog, Damien.

The number of times Benjamin was seen running away from Damien and/or Lucifer with Lucifer's paperwork in his mouth was pretty impressive.

One surprise was that Benjamin and Damien got super well with each ther much to Lucifer and Satan's dismay.

Besides the antagonizing Lucifer tricks, Benjamin didn't really know any tricks other than to sit and fetch.

Just like the other brothers he was truly sad to see Benjamin go and had one last trick to play on Lucifer before the assignment ended.

Asmodeus-Samoyed

A lot of people were expecting Asmodeus to get a small dog, but he really said no❤

He already knew about all the most beautiful dog breeds from the human world and the Samoyed was absolutely elegant.

He had received a female dog and named her Opal.

He already followed a few dog pages on the internet so he had a few basics down.

You already know he's one of those absolutely extra dog owners and honestly good for both him and Opal.

He loves taking her baths and always makes sure the dog products he uses are the absolute best.

Asmodeus even bought her a gemstone collar and I'm not talking about those leather collars with those flat little slabs, I'm talking about these kinds of collars

Yes, he's that extra and no he's not ashamed.

Opal had to be the most spoiled dog in the Devildom by the end of it.

She didn't like to play all that much unless it was with Asmodeus or MC. Pretty people only.

She almost never growled ever and she would have to be really pissed if she ever did. For example, when Mammon accidentally spilled some wet dog food on her fur, she never forgave him.

As you already know, Opal got the best kind of food a dog could eat. Asmodeus being one for best self-care, he didn't want his beloved Opal eating low-grade kibble. Only the best for his little girl.

You already KNOW he dresses her up and takes her out to the club. Loves showing her off to the fans. Likes dragging MC and their assigned dog along with them just to have fun.

Do not ever pet Opal unless you have clear permission from both her and Asmodeus and also clean your hands first. Opal's fur is too delicate and beautiful to get ruined.

Whenever Asmodeus gets drunk he always hugs Opal and cries into her fluff which she doesn't mind.

Asmodeus wouldn't stop posting pictures of him and Opal on social media and even after the assignment ended he still posted older pictures of her.

Couldn't hold back the tears after Opal went back to the human world after the assignment was over. He took her on one last spa day before the day the assignment was over and gave her the best meal.

Was crying on Devilgram Live later that day.

Beelzebub-Saint Bernard

A pretty obvious one. Just like Mammon, he knew nothing about human world dog breeds and chose a Saint Bernard because Satan suggested it.

Satan purposely suggested a big dog because if it were a small one, Beel would have eaten it.

He received a female dog and named her Biscuit. The alternatives were Big Mac and Burger, but Lucifer didn't allow it.

Ome thing these two had in common was a large appetite. Beel quickly got attached to Biscuit mostly because of that.

Beel has to be supervised while feeding Biscuit her dog food cause sometimes he'll try to eat some of her food.

Biscuit loves cuddles and is a big softie just like Beel. Though she seemed to be more of a dog for Belphie since she was always tired and sleeping.

Beel never minded though and always enjoyed walking into a room and seeing Biscuit laying with Belphie and Belphie's assigned dog.

Biscuit gets along with literally everyone including the other dogs. She always lets them do whatever just as long as they aren't harming anyone.

If you do harm her owner or his family she'll go from 0 to 101 in a second. Saint Bernards actually have a very powerful bite so it's best not to piss her off.

But out of her entire time in the Devildom with the brothers, MC, and the other assigned dogs she only really actually bit someone once and it was in self-defense.

Of this assignment had taken place during the whole Belphie attic incident, Biscuit would have been a huge emotional support animal to Beel.

If it didn't take place during that time then Beel would have loved her the same way.

Whenever he would try and work out, Biscuit would always lay on him and get in the way. She's too precious.

The only workout she wouldn't interrupt with cuteness is morning walks/runs.

One problem however is how much Beel would forget to brush her and she'd leave fur absolutely everywhere.

When the assignment was over he felt like he lost a part of himself.

He woke up the morning after looking for Biscuit to take her for their morning run and remembered that the assignment was over.

Still has her collar and leash.

Sad lad hours

Belphegor-Basset Hound

Belphie definitely was one of the brothers who didn't want to do anything with dogs and in fact, he didn't even choose a dog breed so they gave him a random one for the assignment.

Clearly whoever chose the breed for him knew their breeds well because Basset Hounds are some sleepy dogs.

He received a female dog and named her Floppy. Very creative I know.

To be honest, Belphie would be the most irresponsible of the brothers when it comes to raising a dog.

Usually, he had to be reminded a lot to care for this damn dog. Whether it's be reminded to feed her or take her on walks, he's just really lazy.

At first, he didn't like Floppy at all and thought she was ugly until Beel pointed out how much they sleep together.

It was true how much they slept together, wherever Belphie was sleeping, Floppy was either on top of him or next to him.

That's when Belphie actually began to care about her and trying to take better care of her.

He'd forget a lot of the times to do things, but he was trying.

Floppy didn't know any tricks or even bother to learn any. She didn't beg for food or play with the other dogs. She never growled or barked at all either.

Someone would literally be getting stabbed in front of her and she'd yawn.

Even though Floppy never liked getting along with the other dogs, she did like to nap with Beel's assigned dog, Biscuit.

Nobody else though. Not even MC or their assigned dog.

Floppy hated going on walks and any other activity that included having to put any effort into it.

She'd just let Belphie drag her across the ground by the leash.

Belphie was the least sad when the assignment was over. He does really miss Floppy, but he knew he wasn't the best dog owner and she deserves better.

He just wishes her well and hopes she finds a better family. Oh god, he's crying now-

~•~☆~•~

tl;dr: The brothers get dogs, get attached, then get really sad once the dogs are gone.

Oh lord, this took so much longer to make than I expected. Online classes haven't been nice to me. I was going to make some art for this, but this already took way longer than I expected so I'll probably save that for another time!

If anyone of you wants you can add to this by saying what your MC's assigned dog is! Anyways hope you all have a good day and maybe I'll even make a part 2 for the Undateables! ;)

[mudhorn-djarin19]

Love Letters - Chp 2 (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x reader)

Summary: Your boyfriend Frankie Morales is sent off for active duty for the first time. Missing him greatly you two keep in contact via letters you dub as “love letters” until he arrives home. Rating: General (other chapters may vary but will be marked accordingly) Warnings:  Being sent off for active duty and mentions of military work. if I missed any others please let me know AO3 Link | Masterlist | Join my taglist via here! Find chapter one and future chapters via masterlist! Happy Easter everyone!Hope you all enjoy this chapter~, it was fun writing this one cause I got to create a background story for the guys code names lol. Thanks for your continued enjoyment of my works <3

It had been a few weeks since you last got your first letter from him. You knew it could take some time for the letter to get delivered to him and one delivered back to you but, you couldn’t help to worry. You kept yourself busy though with work and spending time with Santiago’s sister who also had not heard back yet. She told you some of the things Santiago mentioned in his letter. Some were the same as Frankie’s like meeting new friends who happen to be locally home based and some different like a little detail about their encampment. Apparently him and Frankie were bunk mates which didn’t surprise you. 

You frowned and worried something had happened since it had been sometime since you last heard from him. You even sent him another letter in the meantime, but still no reply. Just when you were starting to give up all hope you checked the mailbox to find there buried among bills and junk mail a letter from him! You quickly shut the mailbox and ran back inside, throwing the other mail down onto the entryway table as you rushed over to plop on the sofa. You tore the letter open tossing the envelope to the ground and unfolded the letter.

“Hermosa, I am sorry for taking a bit to respond. We had some field work we had to do here that got me tied up. I also know the mail system to get these letters back and forth between us is shit. Takes so long. I am glad to hear you are doing well, I hope you still are. I miss you so much everyday too. It sucks not being able to see your beautiful face everyday and hold you in my arms at night. It really has felt like forever since I’ve last seen you but it’s only been a little over a month. This is going to be tough not being able to be with you until who knows when, but I know we'll make it. The new friends Santi and I made are great. I will have to introduce you to them when we all return. We’ve all been paired up as a group for missions which is awesome and we even gave ourselves some fun code names! Mine is Catfish - Got because I am from the South and like to fish. Santiago is Pope - Because he’s aggressive in field work and can easily send people to the grave. Then there’s will. He is here with his brother. We call him Ironhead - Because he’s insanely smart and strong. His Brother is Benjamin who we call Benny - We couldn’t think of something different from him so Ironhead just gave him his childhood nickname. Then the last guy is Tom who we call Redfly - We got the fly part because he’s very good at being sneaky (i.e. a fly on the wall) and the red part just comes from his favorite color. Thought you might enjoy hearing our fun little code names we have and how we got them. Other than that and the field work we had to do not much has been going on. It wasn’t anything crazy fieldwork wise, just a simple reconnaissance mission. I promise I am being safe, don’t worry about me too much. Please continue to keep in touch. I love hearing from you. Love you, Frankie”

You chuckled at the code names Frankie and his new teammates had. They were very neat and loved to hear a little bit about how they came up with them. You smiled and rushed into your office to start writing back. 

“Frankie,

I am glad to hear you are still doing okay. Please continue to be safe on any of these missions you go on. I worry about you constantly for I want you to return home to me safely and in one piece. It’s good you made some new friends to keep you company while you’re there and that they have become your team. Your code names are really cute and funny. How you got them all sounds really cool. Catfish seems fitting for you, I love it. My fish <3 Pope’s is a bit concerning though with the description but I wouldn’t expect anything less from him .Always the chaotic one haha! I hope you guys can continue to do some small missions and nothing major. Like I said I worry constantly. Keep me updated. Also are you guys allowed to get packages? I want to send you somethings I think you’d enjoy to keep you happy until can come home, if allowed. Please let me know. If not I will just continue to send letters. Love you lots and hope to hear back from you soon. Y/N”

 You folded the letter up but then the thought donged onto you. Frankie mentioned how he missed your face so why not include some photos for him to hold onto and look at everyday? You were about to grab your camera and take one when you realized you have a whole shoe box full of photos to choose from. You headed into the bedroom closet and dug out the box, digging through them until you settled on two. One of you and Frankie both when out camping that Santiago took of you both and one Frankie took of you during a date night. Surely he would enjoy these both. You headed back into the office, hiding them into the letter before adding at the bottom of the letter.. “P.S. You said you missed my face so here’s some photos for you to look at and keep you from forgetting me. <3”

You chuckled to yourself, pleased with the cute little sentiment you decided to add. Hopefully he enjoys them too. Only two letters in, how many more you’d have to write before he comes who knows but surely one too many. You wanted him home already but it sadly won’t come soon enough. Taglist: @sarahjkl82-blog @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @blackberries45 @s-unflowxr @nikkixostan @hailmary-yramliah @icanbeyourjedi @prideandpascal @hb8301 @donnaa *If you user is slashed out it means I couldn’t find your account to tag.

[aliwritesfic]

So since you did the cutest job with my mini golf ask…wondering what the TF boys would be like while tie dying with Frankie and his daughter?! I’m attempting to do that tomorrow with my son lol. Please and thank you if you’d like to explore the idea. 🥰😘

First of all, I am SO SORRY this took so long, I've been so busy with uni and forcing myself to actually do the work this semester (who would've thought I could actually apply myself) but I really enjoyed this, and it's actually made me want to go out and do some tie-dying of my own.

Anyways, here's Tie-Dye Tueaday

W/C: 1.6k

T-Minus 5 Hours Until Disaster

“Daddy?” a soft voice rose Frankie out of his fitful sleep. He distantly felt a tiny, warm hand rest on his cheek.

“Yes, cricket?” he mumbled voice heavy with sleep, struggling to open his heavy eyes. He had stayed up until the small hours of the morning frantically researching for the day, watching YouTube videos, making notes, doing whatever he could to prepare.

“Mommy’s going and said I should wake you up,” Everly pulled herself up onto the bed and sat down directly on Frankie’s bladder. He winced and pushed her off gently, wondering just how she always managed to find the worst spot to sit.

“Have you had breakfast?” Frankie asked, and Everly nodded. He said a silent thanks to his ever-amazing wife, who would be spending the day getting massages and facials and whatever else her heart desired before pushing out twins in less than two months’ time. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that – there would be two more tiny humans in his life soon. The thought left him exhilarated and riddled with anxiety all at once.

Frankie carried Everly downstairs on his back, grabbing his cap from the dresser on his way. The boys would be here soon – they had agreed that tie dying alone with a hyper four year old was a terrible idea, so they were coming to dye something of their own and help Frankie keep a handle on things. Benny was especially excited to dye his shorts to wear to his next fight.

They were halfway through Coco, Everly’s favourite movie, when the front door opened and in came his three best friends, men he had no relation to but considered brothers. Everly went straight to Benny, who was undoubtedly her favourite of them. Frankie had his suspicion that is was because Benny loaded her up on sugar whenever he could. Sure enough, Frankie could see a packet of candy in the plastic bag Benny carried.

“You ready for this?” Will asked, placing a six pack in the fridge. Frankie sighed and nodded.

“Ready as I can be. It can’t go too badly, right?”

~

T-Minus 3 Hours Until Disaster

The sun was bright and hot on their backs as they set up. Everly sat in the shade of the oak tree, a cup of lemonade in one hand, and her favourite doll in the other. Frankie had forbidden her from coming out in the sun until the sunscreen was fully absorbed, which according to his watch wouldn’t be for another few minutes. It occurred to him that since becoming a father, his mind was filled with worries that he never even considered beforehand.

Frankie had brought dyes in every colour he could, several plastic tubs had been fished out of storage and so many ties that he was sure he would be finding them all around the yard for weeks to come.

“Whatta ya dying, Ev?” Santi called to Everly.

“Purple!” She responded, holding up a pristine white pair of cotton shorts and a shirt.

“Just purple?” Will asked.

“And pink and blue and green!” Everly jumped up, setting her cup down carefully and ran over. “I want it swirly. You should be rainbow wiggles.” She told her father seriously. Will grinned.

“She’s a natural born leader,” he said with more than a touch of pride.

“Just like her mother,” Frankie replied. He took the clothes that Everly held out and began to scrunch and fold them according to the instructions he had written down while watching YouTube last night. The whole thing seemed a lot easier when he was watching through a screen.

Everly chose her dyes as Frankie folded, occasionally handing a certain colour to one of the boys, telling them that they hadto use it. None of them wanted to defy the four year old, so each accepted his colours without protest. Benny seemed quite thrilled when he was given a colour labelled Hot Barbie Pink.

“So many guys will be so fuckin’ embarrassed to get their ass beat by a guy in pink shorts,” Benny grinned.

“Language, Ben!” Frankie darted a frantic look towards Everly, who stood with a cunning smile on her face. Frankie knew that she knew exactly what she wasn’t supposed to say.

“Fuck! Ass!” she declared. Will snorted and Santi had to turn away, face turning bright red from holding in laughter.

Frankie gaped, lost for words for a moment. “Everly, don’t ever say that, but especially the first one, and especially not in front of mommy, okay?”

“Why not?”

Frankie shot a look to Benny, who at least looked a tiny bit sorry. “They’re big people words. Each time you say one your . . . hair gets less curly.”

Everly, who loved her curly hair, looked stricken. Frankie felt bad about lying to his kid, but not as bad as he would’ve felt if his wife came home to a child cussing like she had just strolled out of the military.

The words seemed forgotten as the dye was applied. Everly was surprisingly artful in the way she applied the dye, carefully creating patterns that didn’t make much sense to Frankie but must have made sense to her.

T-Minus 30 Minutes Until Disaster

The group of them sat around the dining room table, beers for the boys and juice for Everly. Most of them had small flecks of multi-coloured dye on their hands, but Frankie was sure they would come off easity. Everly had scoffed down her lunch, and now sat staring outside, looking antsy.

“Go play if you want to,” Frankie said, “you don’t have to sit here.” Frankie was confident there wasn’t anything in the backyard that could pose a danger to her, and besides, he had a view of almost the whole yard from the table.

Everly tore off like a hurricane, juice forgotten as she ran outside, doll in hand.

“If the twins are anything like her . . .” Santi began, taking a sip of his drink. “Fish, you’re gonna have your hands full.”

“If they’re anything like Ev, they’ll be great kids,” Benny said. Will rose his beer bottle. ‘But yeah, you’re definitely gonna have your hands full.”

“Amen, I’ll drink to that,” he said. Frankie nodded and had a sip himself. They talked for a while about football, Benny’s next fight, Santi’s new flame.

Then a thought occurred to Frankie.

“Is it quiet out there?” he craned his neck to investigate the yard and saw . . . nothing. Frankie shot up from his seat, panic rising in his chest. “Everly?” He almost tripped over himself in his haste to get to the backyard. Every worst case scenario was forming in his head.

“Ev?” Benny was beside him in an instant.

“Daddy?” Everly wandered out from behind the tree, and Frankie took a deep breath, calming himself. She was unscathed . . . except for the dye that now stained her arms, legs, face, hair. She was grinning widely, and held up her doll, who was also covered in a rainbow of dye.

“Cricket, what did you do?” Frankie gaped, wondering just how she managed to get almost every inch of exposed skin in such a short amount of time.

“Miss Mildew wanted her hair to be pretty,” Everly explained.

“Your dolls name is Miss Mildew?” Santi asked, red in the face with held back laughter. Everly nodded proudly. She had heard the word on television one night and latched onto it.

“What do you think is worse,” Will murmured to Benny, “Ev swearing, or Ev covered in dye?”

“Swearing,” Benny said snickering, “you can wash out the dye, you can’t unlearn a word.”

“What word?” Everly asked. Ears of a hawk, Frankie thought.

“The word you’re not allowed to say,” Will said.

“And what word would that be?” A smooth voice behind them almost made Frankie jump out of his skin. His wife, beautiful and terrifying all at once, stood on the patio, one hand on her stomach, the other on her hip.

“Fuck!” Everly declared loudly and proudly.

“Teaching my child new words, I see, Benjamin.”

Benny to his credit, at least looked more apologetic than he did with Frankie.

Frankie’s wife waddled down into the yard and set her gaze on her husband. “That dye won’t make her sick will it?”

“No, no, not at all,” he said. He had specifically brought kid friendly, skin safe, non-toxic dye.

“Good. Then I’m gonna go lie down and try and forget my four-year-old just said the eff-word and is every colour under the sun.” His wife shook her head and rolled her eyes at Benny. Once she was inside, Frankie turned to Everly.

“C’mon, we gotta clean you up,” he reached to pick Everly up who shook her head.

“We gotta see what they look like first!” she said. Frankie considered her point and nodded.

“Alright, cricket,” he said. They unravelled the clothes to a chorus of oohs and aahs, Everly clapped her green hands together as her multi-coloured shorts and top were revealed.

Benny sheepishly wandered over to Frankie as he put everything in the washing machine. “Hey man, I really am sorry about that.”

Frankie shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Just buy the missus as much caffeine as she wants when she’s done breastfeeding and she’ll forget all about it.”

“I hope so. Her bad side is not a place I wanna be.”

Frankie laughed and scooped up Everly in his arms. Her curls were streaked with blue and her cheeks were magenta. “Trust me, she won’t stay mad for long. I don’t think she’s that mad to be honest.”

“You don’t?” Benny sounded unsure.

“Well she didn’t yell, and it looked like she was trying not to laugh. All things considered, I think today was a success story.”

Tagging @sharkbait77 because I think you’d enjoy this

[pluviophile-bookworm]

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt. 4

I really need a pick-me-up after 2x11, and I feel like 1x7 might be what I'm looking for, so here I am again with another HSMTMTS rewatch. I'm genuinely so excited for both of these episodes, so without further ado, let's jump right into

1x6: She stands for... lies, pressure and very inappropriate suggestions (coming here after 2x11 might have been a mistake, actually)

I honestly don't get why Nini's reaction to seeing Ricky in full Troy costume was so big — he actually looked pretty ok to me. Sure, the wig is a bit too much, but so what, it's cute.

Ahhh my boy Reddy is so adorable in that talking head... 'click!' Gosh, I love seeing him so cheerful! Guess he's embracing his role as part of the crew. As he should.

'I'm home'. Yes, Sebby, and you look so good, too! Gosh, I love this scene so much. I can't believe I'd forgotten about it.

Gina looks beautiful, though — I mean, she looks beautiful in anything, but I really like the Taylor look on her.

Ok, I fully understand everyone's frustration about this picture — it's genuinely so hard to get a good picture of someone jumping up in the air, and I can only imagine what it would be like with six people. A bunch of my classmates tried to do something like that ages ago and, needless to say, it didn't go very well. No good pictures were taken that day.

Ah, Portwell: the early days. Ok, but wanting something and feeling like you have to get it is far from the same thing, EJ. Honestly, these two in their early days as accomplices... this is not the first time they've been like 'X is the same thing as Y' when it's obviously not. I mean, of course, that time they became accomplices because 'we want the same thing' — which, at that point, they didn't.

Ok, but they were in such unison with that 'Not now!'... couple goals! You know, even before either of them had considered the possibility of them being a couple for real.

That's a lot of pressure that Miss Jenn is putting on dear Carlito over there. I mean, he's one of the youngest at the drama club and he has to essentially do her job for her, all while she's not even sure if she'll be able to return to her job. I just... keep reminding myself that these kids are closer in age to my little brother than they are to me (except for EJ, who is precisely in the middle), and then the pressure they're under takes on completely new proportions in my mind. None of them should have to deal with all of this. And no amount of 'trust the process' is making it better.

'Should I just live vicariously through someone else?' Oh Reddy, you should just live for yourself. I mean, the truth is I don't practice what I preach most of the time, but I really do mean this. Just go out there and live your best life. You're not Ricky's therapy dog or anything (that being said, Ricky's getting a therapy dog when?).

What part of 'a forest of boys' does Nini not get? It's simple enough. Just help Carlos do his job, how about that? I mean, he shouldn't have to do everything himself anyway.

See? He cracked. That's what happens when you put all this responsibility on a teen's shoulders and be like 'deal with it'. He was just trying his best, you guys. He did not deserve all the clapback.

Ricky's forced optimism about Miss Jenn and the show is too much even for me. Sure, I know everything turns out mostly alright at the end, but this just sounds like Ricky's on the verge of a breakdown. You know, every time someone's been too unrealistically positive on this show, it has ended in a breakdown. And that's the last thing I want.

I do agree about the simple acoustic version of the song, though. Sometimes simple is the best option.

Major props to Carlos for going up to Mr. Mazzara like that. If someone had bullied me, and especially if that someone was a teacher, I'd never have dared to call them 'Benjamin Mazarra!' to their face. Even when he's on the verge of despair, this boy is still the boldest. And we love him for that.

Is this where the 'Carlos Surname' joke started, though? I had forgotten. It was funny while it lasted.

Ricky doesn't know it yet, but he's seriously playing with Gina's feelings there. And I don't blame him because, again, he doesn't know yet, but I still feel bad for her.

'Despite the 4.3 GPA, I'm actually an idiot.' — EJ is high intelligence, low wisdom, confirmed. Not that this is news, but I really don't remember much about this season, so I'm pointing this out now.

Now forgive me if I'm not feeling for Miss Jenn after 2x11... she did some really unforgivable things there. Still, as much as I want to say a real qualified teacher would not do any of that, my personal experience suggests otherwise, quite unfortunately. Miss Jenn might not be very emotionally mature, but not having legal teaching credentials is not her biggest issue, really. It is precisely her lack of emotional maturity.

OMG, Big Red accidentally invited the entire drama club over! And that, I guess, is half of how Redlyn established themselves as the hosts of every out-of-school drama club gathering. Thanksgiving is, of course, the other half. Gosh, those two were the parents of the drama club even before they were a couple. Guess they're soulmates in that way, too.

Ok, so I didn't comment on this after 2x8 when Big Red did it to Ricky, but now that I finally notice that Seb did it to Carlos, too (I took my time, thanks), I need to talk about the knee touch thing. See, this is exactly the amount of touch I used to be comfortable with (since I'm very touch-averse) — both on the giving and on the receiving end — and it can mean so much when you feel bad. It's a subtle 'hey, I'm here, it's going to be fine', a sort of hug-without-the-hugging... I feel like this is a gesture we don't see enough of in media and it can feel just as intimate as, say, holding hands or cuddling. I don't want to talk about kissing because I don't know anything about it. But I just love how we've got the knee touch depicted by both a romantic pairing and a platonic pairing in the show. Ok, rant over. But I just really wanted to talk about this because, well, I saw myself in it.

'Her past is a little bit sketchy'... I see, Ash has already started writing Truth, Justice and Songs in Our Key, even if she doesn't know it quite yet.

Miss Jenn finding out Mike is Ricky's dad is just as awkward as it should be. Whatever they had going on should have ended right then and there.

'... people in the dramatic arts are insane' — 'Thank you.' — Umm, Miss Jenn, you are not really helping your case there. Quite frankly, you're lucky you've got the allegiance of the entire drama club. I don't think they'd have your back as much after 2x11, though.

Ok, but... Big Red wearing a longcoat just to take it off for the dramatic flair of it all? An icon if I've ever seen one. Also, mad props to Larry for apparently learning this number in record time after Dara got injured.

Oh, and... mad props to all the kids in-universe for writing, rehearsing, and learning this entire number in one night.

So both Seb and Natalie have solo lines in the song... and Seb was promoted to main in s2. So does this mean Natalie will get the same treatment in s3? I mean, that will probably mean they'll try to stick her in some sort of romantic plot, and I really don't need that, but I really, really want her to be a main character.

Also, let's not forget we had our first Redlyn moment in this number... seeing them dance together makes my heart jump with joy!

I won't lie, though, the entire dance number and everything was just a little bit uncomfortable to watch after 2x11... these kids do so much for Miss Jenn, and what does she do? Put insane amounts of pressure on some of them, shuts others down at every attempt to put in a word, favours yet others despite their abysmal performance at the audition, and then has the audacity to tell that same person to jump off of something high, with all the implications attached? Not that I'm naming any names, of course. Ok, this has taken a sudden and uncalled for turn for the dark, so I guess I'll just move right along to the next episode now.

1x7: A world where 'That was terrible!' and 'I'm so happy!' can both be true at the same time

My girl Ash is doing the recap! And she's a pun queen, too. 'Miss Jenn was in hot water, Carlos was a hot mess...' — not pleasant, but so true. But wbk. Ashlyn is the best.

And... Ricky and Nini's on and off chemistry is back on. Good for them, because after season 2, I really needed to see a good rehearsal. But I'm thinking EJ's joy at the end-of-school bell had little to do with Thanksgiving...

That look Reddy gave Ashlyn as she was walking out... might be me digging for breadcrumbs, but I think I just saw the exact moment my boy fell, and he fell hard. Ok, I realise now after I've said this that 'fall' probably isn't the best choice of words, but you know what I mean. Fell for Ashlyn. Not like... oh, never mind.

'So meek, so mild, sword!' I can't really explain it, but I love this line. And I feel like it describes Ash so perfectly: like, she might be meek and mild, but if you cross her, she's armed. Gosh, I love her!

Not the Caswell parents leaving their children alone over two holiday breaks! No wonder these two are the way they are. But they're about to get a beautiful Thanksgiving celebration. [Fun personal fact: the year I was born, my birthday fell on Thanksgiving day. That doesn't mean much in Bulgaria, but my dad works with a lot of Americans so my parents knew about it and I've known this and that about this holiday I've never celebrated since I was very young. I have no idea why I'm telling you this, but Thanksgiving has always reminded me of my birthday for this reason, so... ok, moving on.]

So I know she kind of suggested it, but... why does Carlos think it's his place to invite people over to Ashlyn's? I mean, this was part 2 of Redlyn establishing themselves as the hosts for any out-of-school gathering, but... oh well, it led to a beautiful party with everyone, so... I'll allow it.

I really liked Nini's talk with her grandma. It was really nice, and a very fitting way to remind everyone what Thanksgiving is originally about. I feel like people often forget that when it comes to... literally every major commercialised holiday.

Wow, EJ really is that person where once the tap is open, it can't stop spilling. And I kind of like that look on him. It's a transitional stage between EJ 1.0 and EJ 2.0, and I appreciate it for what it is.

Ahhhh it's Redlyn's first proper 1-on-1 conversation! I mean, it got kind of really awkward really quickly because of — surprise, surprise — Nini and Ricky (and EJ), but those two are so adorable! No more breadcrumbs — we're about to get an entire five-course meal here! Which goes really well with the Thanksgiving setting, now that I think of it.

Gosh, they've never really talked and my boy whips out the 'the only thing I'd ever throw at your face is a brighter spotlight' line right off the bat? Boy is whipped! But like, he is the master of grand gestures where Ashlyn is concerned. Still, in this first moment they shared, he really was like, go big or go home, and home isn't really an option here. But I should have known, it's in his name after all. Gosh, I love both of those two so much! Especially when they're together.

Ok, so... this is a really bad way to meet your mother's new boyfriend. Poor Ricky. As if ringing his mum wasn't hard enough already.

See, when I rewatch season 1, I get where the Rina stans are coming from, but then again, remember when I used to say I wanted Gina and EJ to just be friends? Yeah, that's changed too. Not that I ever shipped Rina romantically — I rarely ever ship a pairing unless they're explicitly stated to have something going on, just because I can't see that sort of stuff very clearly — but I really, really want them (Ricky and Gina, I mean) to be really good friends. Once they get past the awkwardness of their sort of history, I mean.

I miss the good old days when Nini was a nice person... I mean, we kind of (really) had a glimpse of that in 2x11 (I'm guessing she was making up for Miss Jenn's very inappropriate slip-up), but I miss the days before she was this big internet-famous songwriter and actually had to be convinced by Ashlyn that she should write songs for herself... wait, now that I think of it... Ashlyn might have helped create a monster there. Oh well. Still love her so much!

You know, I love the Choosical, but it's all a bit sad, if you stop to think about it for a sec. Just picture little single-digit-aged Carlito making this whole thing up in an attempt to participate in his favourite thing... only to not have anyone to play with for the next ten years. Great, I just made myself cry. The thing is, I relate to that story a bit too much. I remember in preschool, when the rest of the children would play together, I'd sit in a corner by myself and read the only book that was there... over and over, day after day. I don't even remember a single thing about that little book right now, but back then I clung to it like it was everything. And I couldn't very much share the experience with any of my peers, seeing as I was the only kid there who could actually read (my grandma used to be a preschool teacher and she taught me to read when I was 4). So yeah. I went off on a rather personal tangent there. Thing is, I know how little Carlos felt and I'm so happy that he finally gets to share this thing he made with a loving and supportive group of friends. Everything has its time and place, I guess.

'Look, I'm not following Big Red just because he paid me a compliment' — of course not, dear, you know your own worth and we love that for you — but see, when he said that thing that you're referring to as a compliment, he did not lie! You really are the brightest star and deserve the brightest spotlight. See, the thing I love most about Redlyn's compliments to each other is that they're so sincere and state nothing but the absolute truth. Those two just see each other for what they are, and love each other as they are. And I think that is beautiful.

It's so funny to me every time someone gets something wrong and Carlos just walks past them out of nowhere and corrects them without missing a beat. I kind of relate to that side of him, too. Except it's usually about grammar and language in my case, not HSM trivia.

If I were Nini in this scene, and was suddenly put face to face with Emily on the spot like that, I would not have been able to handle it. So props to Nini for handling it.

Yeah, sorry to break it to you, Emily dear, but whatever you're doing is not a Cockney accent. I don't claim to be an accent expert, but I know first-hand what Cockney sounds like and... that's just not it. Even Dick Van Dyke was closer to a Cockney accent in Mary Poppins, and that's saying something. (See, I feel bad criticising any aspect of Emily because her actress is no longer with us, but... I have no idea who let them get away with passing this off as Cockney).

Is this the beginning of Jennzara there? I am loving this.

Of course Carlos was obsessed with Glee as a kid... but wasn't he a bit too young for it when it aired? I know I was, and I'm older than those kids. I mean, I waited until I was emotionally mature enough to watch Glee, and that wasn't until 3 years ago, when I was 18 going on 19. Ok, I'm thinking too much into this. Moving on.

Ahhhhh, Redlyn! Just... all of their moments. But screaming the lyrics of What I've Been Looking For on top of their lungs while looking right at each other... was so beautiful to watch. Give me more of that!

EJ: 'That was terrible.' Seb: 'I'm so happy!' — Moods, both of them. Those two are real-life emojis, aren't they? And we love them for that.

'... without laughing... or killing each other.' — I feel like that last specification was needed given that it's Ricky and EJ we're talking about, and especially what happened last time they had to do a one-on-one exercise during rehearsal. The ensuing scene, however, is the most hilarious thing!

Root beer, huh? Is that the HSMTMTS code for 'awkward' now? I mean, Nini and Gina had a nice talk there, all things considered. I really want the two of them to put the Ricky thing past them and be friends... but we'll see.

Gina is trying to make the sleepover thing look like 'it's not a big deal' despite how big of a deal it obviously is to her... to which I say, good for you, girl, but I wouldn't know. The only sleepovers I've ever had have been with my little cousin who is 9 years younger than me and also insists on sleeping with a very bright nightlight on, which means I can't sleep at all. So yeah, I wouldn't know. But I'm happy that Gina is feeling included.

So this is the exact moment when it becomes clear that Big Red is not telling us the complete truth when it comes to his HSM knowledge... '14 and 10'? Even I didn't know that. I knew 14, but... for someone who allegedly 'hates musicals', my boy has very detailed knowledge of one certain musical movie... I love how it got him a certain girl's attention, though. Not that she wasn't already paying attention to him, if you catch my drift.

Ok, but this hits even harder now than it did the first time — just when Gina has finally managed to make friends, to feel included in their group, her mum has to move her away again. This is straight-up tragic. I'll say it now, and I'll probably say it again when it comes up in the rewatch — Ashlyn is an absolute queen for taking Gina in for the next semester.

'That's sort of what you always do, huh? Take care of everyone else' — yeah, Ash, and you do the same. You two just need someone to do for you what you do for other people. See, guys, this is what I mean. This is why they're soulmates. Because in a world that has more or less forced both of them to put others first, they put each other first. They each get to be the most important person to each other after they've been stepping back for others all the time. And if that isn't beautiful, I don't know what is. I know I'm repeating myself over and over saying this, but... they own my heart and soul and I'm not for sale.

Ok, but Ashlyn's little run after Big Red left was so cute! Girl is... I don't know why I keep using that word, but... falling.

Unpopular opinion: Out of the Old is the best Nini solo to come out of this series to date. Maybe I feel that way just because I relate to it most, but hey, that is a valid reason to like something.

Oof, EJ's losing followers. Oh well, if they're unfollowing him for being too honest, they didn't like the real him to begin with. So good riddance to them.

Yikes... Jennzara fell asleep with flammable stuff left unattended... we all know how that ended, but just the fact that they felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in each other's presence... speaks volumes. So I guess... well, I don't know what exactly I'm saying regarding the fire they caused, but I loved this big little moment they had.

So this is it. That was 1x6 and 7 and, well, they were beautiful, but there are some parts I can't look at in the same way anymore after 2x11. Guess that's the risk of a rewatch. The Redlyn scenes, though — still the best part of both of these episodes. That and a couple of other things for which I don't need to pretend like I haven't seen season 2.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 4: Tweeted- Benny Miller

Day 4: Tweeted- Benny Miller 

I have to admit this may be my favorite so far that I have written. I just love Benny so much and how adorable he is.

Check out my November writing challenge masterlist below and let me know if you have any requests for any of the prompts. 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 3: Clarity- Maxwell Lord 

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It was a strange thing to tell people when they asked about your boyfriend. Yes, he’s an MMA fighter, ex-special forces, and also an overgrown child.

You met Benny eight months ago at one of his local fights. A blind date set up by your friends started out as dinner with a nice normal doctor and ended up in bed with the entertainment for the night. You still felt sort of bad about how you had ditched the doctor but when you thought of how happy Benny made you it was worth it. 

You are sitting in the gym watching Benny train with his brother Will. The Miller brothers were a package deal and luckily Will and you hit it off right away. Will is going through some footage from an old fight while you scroll through your phone on twitter. Since you had begun dating Benny, the world of MMA became a norm in your life. You followed other fighters and coaches on twitter and learned as much as you could. It was at that moment an idea struck you. 

“Hey baby...babe....Benny!” you shout getting both men’s attention. 

“What do you need, Tiger?” Benny smiles at you. 

You roll your eyes, you hate that nickname, one time you had one of your nieces' Daniel Tiger songs in your head and you accidentally sang it out loud...one time. But that’s all it took for him to call you Tiger forever. 

“Have you ever thought of getting a twitter account for yourself as a fighter? Not like a personal account but something for press,” the look on his face makes you want to laugh out loud. 

“What the fuck is a twit….twitter? Is that some kind of STD?” oh your poor golden retriever and his lack of knowledge at technology. 

“No...baby no. It’s a social media account that people get to post about their lives. Lots of other fighters use it to connect with fans, and promote their fights, Will back me up here?” you gesture to the other Miller who looks just or more confused than the former. 

“Uhm, I honestly don’t know what the hell you're talking about, my girl just got me a Facebook account like two weeks ago,” Will shrugs at Benny. 

You roll your eyes so far you can see the inside of your brain before you tell them, “It would be great Benny, we could make you an account tonight when you come over for dinner and I can show you how it works, just trust me baby.” 

“I trust you Tiger, how about you get going home and I’ll pick up the take-out and be there within the hour?” Benny stands before walking over to you pulling you into his arms. You have to look up since he is a solid foot taller than you and he pecks you on the lips before attempting to deepen the kiss. Damn this man is insatiable. 

“Alright enough!” Will shouts, breaking the two of you apart abruptly, “Let the woman go Benny we need to finish up with this and then he’s all yours.” 

“Oh brother, I already am all hers,” Benny tells his brother loudly before leaning down to your ear and whispering, “and she is all MINE.” You can’t help the shiver that runs up your spine before he puts a wet kiss below your ear and gently pushes you towards the door, slapping your ass on the way out. You wave goodbye to Will and make your way home. 

Benny arrives exactly one hour later, two whole pizzas in hand, and a six pack of beer. You had been having pizza a lot more often since the other guys started calling you both monsters for your equal love of pineapple and ham pizza. Over the next three hours you and Benny work on setting up his twitter account. 

It’s honestly way more frustrating teaching him than you thought it would be. He asks more questions than a grandpa learning how to use a smartphone. You didn’t know a grown man could ask so many questions and so quickly. 

“What are followers? Is this some sort of cult website. Babe, I don’t wanna join a cult.”

“So I click this little round A symbol to tag someone in my tweet? Is this even English?” 

“Are hashtags named after hash browns because they look like hash browns...wait do we have any hash browns….baaaabbbeee now I’m hungry!” 

You groan before slapping your forehead, watching your big MMA fighter boyfriend dig through the freezer for hash browns. Coming back soon with a pout on his face, having found no hash browns. Damn how can one be so adorable?

“That’s it, I got work in the morning. I promise we can work on this more tomorrow!” You stand from the couch popping your joints as you stretch. Benny comes over to you wrapping you up in a hug. His warm arms wrap around you and he kisses the side of your neck. 

“Thank you,” the words are slightly muffled against your skin, “I really appreciate you doing this stuff with me. Supporting me with being a fighter, I promise one day I am going to make you proud of me.” 

You pull him back, placing your hands on his face. “I am already so fucking proud of you Benjamin Miller and don’t you ever forget it. Yes, you suck at technology butI promise I don’t love you any less because of it.” 

Benny goes quiet and the smile drops from his face… “My little Tiger... you love me?” 

Oh shit. That’s not exactly how you imagined telling Benny you loved him but when has anything in your relationship been conventional. You take a deep breath meeting his eyes before you smile, “Of course I love you baby. You are the sweetest, toughest, most badass, old man on the planet and I fucking love you so much.” 

Benny’s eyes become glassy before he’s pulling you in for a kiss, and wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I love you too Tiger, so fucking much,” he kisses you again slower this time, “go to bed baby I will clean up out here and join you in a couple minutes.” 

You pull away first, exhausted not only physically but emotionally too and you kiss Benny on the lips again gently before walking back towards your room. Benny has his own place with his brother but he’s kind of like a stray dog that followed you home one day and never left. Most of his stuff is at your place anyways, since he sleeps there every night. You pull back the covers and get into the cool sheets, from the nightstand your phone pings. 

You pick up the phone and see someone tagged you in a tweet. When you open it your eyes water and you clutch the phone to your chest. 

@y/n is the best girlfriend on the planet, AND SHE LOVES ME! I LOVE YOU TO BABE!

You press the like button on the tweet before turning off the light snuggling into the blankets. From the hallway you hear the sounds of Benny’s boots on the floor walking towards the bedroom. He gets ready for bed, and pulls you close to his body, his arms wrapping around your waist pulling you tight to him. Your head rests on his chest. 

Just when you're about to fall asleep you feel him tap your shoulder gently, “babe…” he whispers, “I tweeted all by myself.” 

You laugh out loud before snuggling to him tighter, “yes you did, I even liked it. And Benny?” 

“Yeah Tiger?” 

“I love you too.” 

Day 5: Holy - Llewyn Davis 

[saint-cichol-is-watching]

May I req how Asmo celebrates his birthday with his partner and kids? I really love your next gen hcs they’re all so cute zxsgzhwh

Oh you’re so sweet honey I’m sorry for the time it took but in my defense it’s still Asmo’s birthday where I come from so it’s alright ! 

I hope you'll like it because I had a bit of troubles writing it I'll admit 😣

For those who don’t know these headcanons reference to my and @ivotheovni Next Generations AU (you can find the Masterlist here)

( @milas-imaginarium )

-

Note - These headcanons reference to a few characters that you might not know yet so here is a short resume : Valentine a mature young girl who is her real Devilgram Star and Ofelia a sweet girl who often fantasizes about romance are Asmodeus’s daughters (links : 1 / 2 / 3), the twins here do not refer to Beel and Belphie but to Benjamin and Belmin, Beel’s sons, Lily is their younger sister (link). Rosie, from her real name Roseanne is Lucifer’s daughter (links : 1 / 2). Finally I can’t remember if I mentioned her but if Leny is mentioned know that it’s Satan’s oldest child (her real name is Selene, only Ofelia, her best friend, calls her ‘Leny’) (links : 1 / 2)

Anyway now let’s start !

Today was a special day, you were May 15th which meant it was your husband, Asmodeus's, birthday.

That's why you, along with your sixteen and twelve years old daughters, Valentine and Ofelia, decided to make a surprise birthday for the beloved father of your girls.

The preparations started very early in the morning, where you three were busy in the kitchen trying to make Asmodeus one perfect breakfast.

Ofelia, who was a bit of an airhead, rushed over carrying a good number of pans, each of different sizes, to make sure she had the right one to give them to you but tripped causing all the metallic pans to fly out of her arms resulting in an enormous ruckus as they came crashing on the floor.

"Watch out Felia" Valentine said smiling "If Uncle Beel, Lily or even the twins wake up we can say goodbye to our breakfast in bed for Dad"

"And if your Uncle Luci or Rosie wakes up we might hang down from the ceiling all throughout your father's birthday" You added chuckling.

Ofelia giggled apologizing airily as she helped you gather the pans from the floor.

"Don't forget to make it extra cute!" Valentine said as you were now putting strawberries on top on the pancakes you just finished to cook "We'll need to take a picture for our family's Devilgram, oh and Dad's too! And mine as well of course! Our followers will love it!"

The breakfast now finished (without any disturbances from your brothers-in-law and/or their children) you told your eldest daughter to grab her father's gift on the counter and to, along with Ofelia, follow suite as you exited the kitchen in direction of your room upstairs.

You were all giggling already imagining Asmo's reaction in your head.

Once in front of your door, your girls placed themselves behind you as you quietly opened the door.

The small light of the Devildom's days was  already shining through the thin curtains of the room, illuminating your sleeping husband's form.

He was still asleep but you could see from the way his eyelids were moving that he was slowly stirring himself awake.

"Asmo" You whispered softly.

There was a bit of movement from under the sheets.

"Dad" Valentine said happily 

"Daddy!" Ofelia also tried to wake her father up, she was a little bit louder than you and her sister.

Just as then you saw Asmodeus's eyes opened up and from a same voice you exclaimed:

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY"

Fully awake Asmo sat up in the bed smiling big, a smile so beautiful and so similar to the ones of his daughters.

There were not a lot of people who were allowed to see Asmodeus's face so early in the morning but he always seemed to make an exception for you three, you were the only ones who were allowed to see him in such a, as he put it, unfashionable state. You were really special to him after all.

"We've got a full day planned for you Daddy" Ofelia said beaming so happily "We've got breakfast, nail polish, face masks, my favorite romantic comedy -of course-"

"Don't forget about the livestream" Valentine added "My followers are dying to wish you a happy birthday Dad" 

"We'll keep that for the birthday party with everyone tonight Val" You said to your eldest who smiled and nodded.

Asmo who was still on the bed was beaming from happiness. Looking at everything that was in your hands.

"What should we start with?" Your husband asked excitedly. 

You put down the plate of pancakes on his legs and immediately joined him on the bed.

"Breakfast?" You asked and he nodded.

You all sat down around the king of the day and all happily dug in the same plate.

Once the breakfast was finished it was a mess, Asmo happily grabbed onto a small container of nail polish and asked for your youngest daughter's hand so he could paint her nails as she talked happily about her last crush. You and Valentine decided to take care of each other nails, also laughing, gasping and exclaiming happily as once again Ofelia swore it was true love at first sight.

Putting face masks onto both Asmodeus's and your faces, the girls grabbed onto your now colorful hands to give them a small massage, singing along to the song they prepared specially for their father's birthday.  

'They really inherited their dad's pretty voice' you thought as their voice almost lulled you back to sleep, Asmodeus was also a wonderful singer after all.

Then it was time for your overly-romantic's daughter's favorite movie. A very popular rom com that you had seen a thousand times already but it seemed like your family never grew tired of talking all during the movies about everything and anything like how the protagonist should run after them and crying over their happy ending.

"I think that just leaves us with your birthday gift Asmo, right girls?" You said.

Ofelia rushed out of the bed and grabbed onto the wrapped present that was left lying onto your vanity.

"For you Daddy" She said smiling big as she handed her father your gift.

"Wah thank you Felia" Asmo said as he kissed her face all over before leaving a kiss on Valentine's forehead and one peck on your lips also thanking you both for the gift.

"It's only a small gift for right now you have much more left for tonight" You said as he teared down the wrapping paper.

The gift was an enormous book, a scrapbook more exactly, there were photos of him, photos of you, photos of each of the girls, photos of all of you together and in every spaces left was a small kind words to your husband.

"Oooh I love it !" Asmodeus exclaimed giggling "Look at that the most fabulous family in all three realms in just one book! Come here you!"

Opening his arms Asmo invited you in a family in which you all jumped happily laughing.

"We love you Dad" Valentine said looking up from your hug.

"I love you too my three loves" Asmo answered hugging you tighter.

[something-tofightfor]

Tipping Point - 12

Pairing: Benjamin Greene x Reader

Word Count: 9161 (leave me alone, I know it’s long.)

Rating: M (Language, some touching)

Summary: After your kiss on the Cloud Gate Plaza, you and Benjamin head back to your hotel - are you ready to take the next step, or will there be something stopping you? Also, you get to enjoy your last full day downtown with him. 

Author’s Note: Benjamin Greene is losing patience with me, but there’s nothing I can do about it. This is one of my favorite chapters of the entire story, so there’s that.

The Congress Lounge was still open when you got back to the hotel, but one look at your face told Benjamin that you were in no mood to drink. I’m not, either. As you rode the elevator up to the room, Benjamin stood next to you, heart still thudding in his chest, though you weren’t holding his hand anymore. We’ve kissed. We crossed a line, and we can’t go back now, no matter what she says about it being like it was. “You coming, Benjamin?” He blinked rapidly, though he hadn’t realized that the doors had opened, you stepping into the hallway. “Or are you going to ride back to the lobby?”

 “No.” He reached out, stopping the doors from sliding shut with one arm. “I’m… I’m right here.” You laughed, stepping down the hallway and toward the room as Benjamin followed, his eyes on your back as you dug through your purse for the key. “I wasn’t…”

 “What’s going through your head, Benjamin Greene?” You stopped, inserting the card into the slot in the door and then pushing it inward. “You’ve been distracted for the -”

 “Do you blame me?” You were both inside, Benjamin pausing long enough to flip the lever on the door, locking it from the inside. I don’t think we’re leaving again. “We’ve… a lot’s different in the last few hours, and… it’s more than I…” I don’t even know where to begin. 

 “I’m going to get changed, Benjamin. I know it’s still early, but unless you need to go anywhere, I’m in for the night.” He gestured toward the bathroom vaguely, waiting until you passed him to move to his own bag, pulling out another pair of pants and a shirt before he took a seat on the edge of his mattress, staring out the window while he unlaced his boots. What is happening? He swallowed hard, thinking back to the first night he’d spent with Julia; the two of them talking over drinks and then dancing on the roof before heading back to her room, more talking until she’d fallen asleep. I stayed awake. I could have left. I ... should I have left? Benjamin lowered his head, glancing down at his hand, the bare ring finger almost mocking him. Why are you thinking of Julia? Why tonight, after - “Bathroom’s all yours.” 

 He turned on the bed to look at you, the light still on in the bathroom behind you as you put your dirty clothes into your bag, hair hanging loose over your bare shoulder. “All done?” You nodded, not looking at him. “Alright, I’ll… be right back.” He heard you murmur his name as he walked by, closing and locking the door behind him before he dropped his clothes onto the floor, both hands balling into fists. What are you doing, Benjamin? He knew that he wasn’t doing anything wrong - you’d made the first move, you’d ended things with Noah for good, Benjamin had told you the most necessary parts of his past, he’d been adamant that you only do what you wanted to do. So what is this… guilty feeling? He looked up, staring at himself in the mirror, his eyes wide and unfocused. 

 He didn’t feel guilty for kissing you - that wasn’t it. As he undressed, Benjamin moved on autopilot, removing his jeans and shirt, brushing his teeth in his underwear as he stood in front of the sink, one hand gripping the edge of the porcelain. I feel guilty because… I don’t feel guilty. He spat the toothpaste out, licking his lips before he wiped them, toothbrush going back into the small travel bag resting on the glass shelf beneath the mirror. You deserve this. You deserve to be happy. He stared at himself in the mirror, searching his face and thinking hard. “I’ve no reason not to let myself…” He whispered the words, eyebrows shooting upward. “I deserve to be happy.” He said the words slightly louder than the first whisper, more strength behind them. “To see if… I can be happy.” 

 He’d given up years of his life for his brother, finding only small bits of happiness in the time he’d spent behind bars; reading new books, learning new things, finding ways to get along with those around him. He’d taken things slowly after his release, trying to rebuild his life but never allowing himself to hope for more than bare minimum - and then he’d met Allie. Things changed. He swallowed, closing his eyes. For a brief period, he’d given himself permission to dream about the future, about settling down, about having an actual life as Benjamin Greene, not just the shadow of one. And then that didn’t happen. 

 Between Allie and Julia, Benjamin had gone back on autopilot. While not miserable, he’d been complacent; finding a job and a place to live in London, going through his routine with little excitement or eagerness. I settled then. And then… Benjamin splashed water onto his face, rubbing at his eyes as Julia’s face appeared again behind the closed lids, the way he’d seen her the first time, not at the end. I have to tell her. There was a knock on the door and Benjamin stood up straight, taking a deep breath and swallowing. “Yeah?” 

 “You alright in there, Benjamin? It’s been…” He exhaled, bending down to pull his pants on and then turned to the door, hand closing around the knob. “I -” The door swung open, Benjamin stepping back with it, and he watched as your eyes went wide, the next words freezing on your lips. “What?” Forgetting that he was in the middle of one of the most important thoughts he’d ever had, Benjamin grinned at you, head cocked to one side. “Are you -”

 “Shirt.” He’d never heard your voice sound the way it did with that single word; high pitched and full of surprise. “You’re not wearing a…” He glanced down, the hand not on the doorknob moving up to the back of his head and rubbing through the hair there. 

 “You knocked, and I just opened the door.” He turned away, bending over to pick up the shirt he’d set down. “I’ll put it on now, a-” He felt your hand against the center of his back, touch tentative at first and then the pressure of your fingers increasing. He said your name as he turned back toward you, feeling as you flattened your palm on his skin and then slid it upward, Benjamin taking one step toward you. 

 “You don’t have to.” He watched as you furrowed your brow, eyes moving greedily over his exposed skin. “I’ll behave myself, I promise.” You’ll behave? What does that mean? “Come out here, Benjamin. You picked a haunted hotel and then left me alone. What if a hundred year old ghost deci-” He cut you off by leaning down and kissing you again, moving before he’d even thought the action through. He felt your fingers tighten, nails digging into his back, and Benjamin relaxed his grip on the shirt, letting it drop back to the floor. We’re alone and now…  Your other hand went to his hip, but before Benjamin could reach out and touch you, he’d pulled away, taking a deep breath through his nose, his upper lip curling slightly. Calm down. “Benjamin, why are you -”

 “Look.” He licked his lips, tilting his head back. “In a perfect world, I’d pick you up and carry you to bed and we’d…” He paused. “We’d stay there ‘til morning, as long as that’s what you wanted.” You were still touching him, grip on his hip tightening, and though he didn’t allow himself to focus on it, Benjamin thought he’d never get tired of the feeling. “But I didn’t come here for these two days with any intentions, and so I am wildly unprepared for anything much past conversation tonight.” You appeared shocked at his honesty, but nodded, staring into his eyes. “And I had a … a thought when I was changing anyway, and I think I need to…” He reached up, fingertips trailing down past your temple and over the curve of your cheek. “I need to tell you before anything else happens.” 

 “Alright, Benjamin.” You closed your eyes, shoulders dropping. “But if you’ve got something serious to say, you will need to put a shirt on, because all that skin is distracting.” He laughed out loud, stepping away and bending down to pick up the discarded shirt, tugging the material over his head. 

 “Distracting? Really?” You crossed your arms, holding your ground. 

 “Yes. I’ve wondered for months what was under there, and now that I know…” She’s teasing me. She means it, but she’s teasing me about it. “C’mon, Benjamin. You said you had more to tell me, so… tell me.” He followed you across the room, noticing that again, you’d opened the window, a breeze blowing into the room and rustling the curtains slightly. You sat on one bed, feet planted on the floor in front of you, and he took a seat on the other before reaching out to take your hands in his. This is important. 

 “I told you earlier that Julia’s the only one that knows everything about me.” You nodded. “And I also told you that she only found out after she’d fallen in love with me, agreed to marry me, moved me in with her … she didn’t take it well, but I think that… I think that if she hadn’t already spent so much time with me, formed an opinion of me, that it wouldn’t… she wouldn’t have chosen to be with me, even though I...” 

 “Benjamin, that’s crazy, you didn’t -” He squeezed your hands, head moving from side to side. 

 “My point is that I’ve tried relationships in a lot of different ways throughout my life.” He paused rolling his neck out. “This, between us, isn’t a relationship - not yet, anyway - but it’s a friendship first, and that’s more important. And if it becomes more? I don’t want there to be anything hidden, especially not something that damning. Allie didn’t know, and even though I loved her, I always felt like I was hiding a part of myself from her, that there was something that I’d never be able to tell her.” You were staring at him, waiting. “With Julia, telling her? Finally getting it out, though it wasn’t on my terms? It felt good, it felt like… like sharing a burden that I’d tried to carry by myself for years. And it was rough at first, and I was terrified to lose her, but when she knew? I thought that things would be better.” 

 “But they weren’t, were they?” You leaned closer to Benjamin, and he felt your thumb moving back and forth against the heel of his hand, the motion oddly soothing. “You told her something important about yourself and what you’d done for your brother, and she didn’t…” She gets it, without even knowing she gets it. 

 “I really believed that Julia was my last chance at a normal life. I met her when I was 36, I thought… I thought I was running out of time, and I …” I’m ashamed at this, at myself, at my… “With Allie, I never wanted to tell her. With Julia, it… I knew I couldn’t. So I convinced myself that it was fine. I was always waiting for the other foot to fall, for her to somehow learn what I’d done? And then Kieran showed up, and I thought it was over, but I still couldn’t tell her, because it was never the right time. It never… I never thought it was the right opportunity to shatter my last hope. I was afraid to.” He pulled his hand away from yours, rubbing it against his thigh as his knee bounced. “There were a lot of things wrong between us, but I ignored them, ignored all of them, because I just wanted...  for as long as possible, to feel normal.”

 His knee was still bouncing up and down, but he stopped moving his hand, taking a deep breath. Is that too much to want? A normal life, a normal relationship? A wife? A home? “Benjamin, I don’t get it. Of course you’d want that, who wouldn’t?” 

 “Julia didn’t marry me to make me happy, she did it because she was looking for something. Something that Ted took from her, something that she gave to her kids for all those years but never got back in return.” He looked back up at you, hoping that he didn’t look as desperate as he felt. “I knew it and I ignored it, and I let it happen because for the first time in years? I felt safe. I felt… seen.” He took a deep breath, pulling his other hand away from yours and gripping his other knee, the fingers on both hands tightening, the material of his pants bunching beneath them. “I wasn’t happy, not really, but I was alright with it, because it meant that I wasn’t alone.” Even though it felt like the opposite a lot of the time.

 “Oh, Benjamin.” You stood, stepping between his legs and lowering yourself onto one of his knees. Benjamin moved his hand to keep you from sitting on it as your arms went around his neck, hugging him tightly. “It kills me that you know this, and you -” His arms wound around your waist but he stayed quiet, wanting to hear what you said. “You said the kids didn’t like you, and you and Julia argued, and you still…” 

 “I married her.” He said your name, looking over your shoulder and at the open window. “I meant what I said when I took my vows. I knew what I was getting into and I fought for it, and I… I thought that it would get easier. I convinced myself of it.” But the times when I was really happy? When it was all worth it? “It didn’t. And still, I convinced myself that it was good enough, that I was happy enough, that I was fine with the rest of my life being about other people.” 

 “Benjamin.” You interrupted him, voice quiet. “You don’t have to justify this to me. You did what you did, and… you don’t have to do that anymore.” You lifted a hand, fingers gliing through the short hair on the back of his neck. “You’ve been telling me for months that I have to do what makes me happy, and yet you spent years not doing the same.” I know. Practice what I preach, right? “You’ve still got plenty of time, Benjamin. And you said it yourself, the way you feel about me, after Julia? It’s proof that you can still feel something, even after… after what you’ve been through.” But I don’t want to feel anything for… I feel this way about… 

 “That’s why I’m being so honest with you.” He drew in a breath, hand rubbing slowly over your lower back. “I tried it the other ways, tried to keep things a secret and hope, tried waiting and then telling, and now… now I want you to know before. It’s only fair, because…” He looked up, waiting until you’d done the same, meeting his eyes. “Because things are already changing between us, and it’s only been a few weeks. Hell, it’s only been a few days since we admitted to anything, and whatever this becomes? It can’t start on a lie. You know my name. You know my past, you know my -” 

 You moved the hand at the back of his head, bringing one finger to his lips. What? “I do. I know those things, and I see how much this hurts you to talk about them.” It does, it was years of my life and I can’t get them back. “I told you earlier. Nothing has to change. I kissed you, but I don’t expect… shit Benjamin, you leave in a couple days, and then… then what? You’ll go back to London, and you’ll… you’ll be around people that you could…” One arm around his shoulders, the other hand rested in your lap. What are you saying? “I just wanted you to have a good time here, Benjamin. And I guess along the way I stopped trying to pretend that I didn’t… that I didn’t want it to be with me.” 

 “But you were with -”

 “Jesus, Benjamin, I know that you said you didn’t want details, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t what you think.” What does that mean? “There was a point in time when I would have wanted to be with him. Yes. But the more I thought about it? The more I saw how he was when we were out, the way he acted around me and toward his friends? He had plenty of time to decide what he wanted, but I didn’t push for it because I…” You laughed. “I kept waiting for him, when he’d see me texting with you, or emailing you? When I’d tell him I was talking to you or Eric? When I brought you up, or he did? I kept waiting for him to tell me to stop, that he didn’t want it to happen, that it hurt his feelings when I’d…” Benjamin said your name, glancing down to see your fingers curling into a fist and then slowly reopening. “But he didn’t care enough to even really pretend like it bothered him - until you were here. And then when it all came down to it, when I really thought about those words coming out of his mouth? I didn’t want it, not even close.” But you asked him, you invited him to your place and you asked him.

 “What do you want? If it’s not him, not a relationship, not… what is it?” His heart sped up, Benjamin dreading your answer and needing it at the same time. “What are you looking for?” You looked past him, eyes focused on the window and the fluttering curtain. It was quiet in the room for long seconds, the faint sounds of traffic audible from ten floors beneath you. What do you need? 

 “I do want a relationship, Benjamin.” You brought your gaze back to him, resolve written on your face. “A good one, one where I don’t feel like it’s one sided, or that I’m constantly trying to convince myself it’s worth it.” You swallowed, taking a deep breath and raising the hand that was in your lap to the side of his face, Benjamin leaning into your touch without pause. “I want to be with someone, not just there next to ‘em, you know?” He had a ton of questions that he wanted to ask you - but when he opened his mouth, none of them came out. 

 “You can have those things. All of them.You should.” Benjamin closed his eyes .”You’ve just got to find the right person, and it’ll… you’ll feel it.” You’re worth it. He heard you laugh quietly and then felt you shift; not trying to get up or move away, but getting comfortable, your fingers stroking through the thick hair of his beard. “I hope you find him.” I hope I’m… The two of you sat in silence, staring at each other, and Benjamin felt his heart pounding in his chest, heartbeat loud enough that he was sure you could hear it. I want… Lifting his hand slowly from his knee, Benjamin gave you ample time to stop him, his movement slow and deliberate as he raised it to the side of your face, pausing before he touched you. You nodded - only once - without looking away and he felt his fingers slipping through the strands of your hair as he pulled your face closer to his. “Tell me to s-”

 “No.” You breathed the word out, hand dropping to his shoulder and squeezing. “No, I don’t want you to.” It only took moments for the final space between you to disappear, Benjamin’s lips pressing to yours again. Enough. Enough with the holding back. Though he would have been content for the night with the single kiss you’d shared on the plaza, each one that followed was proof to him that the way he’d been feeling wasn’t simply circumstance. I like her. I really… “Benjamin, I swear to God if you don’t kiss me right now…” You spoke quietly, but he heard the need in your voice, felt the change in your grip. “Please.” 

 Using his hand, he tilted your head to the side, taking a breath, and then Benjamin kissed you - harder than he ever had previously. It caught you off guard even though you’d just asked him for it, and as he felt you inhale, lips parting, he wrinkled his nose and followed suit, tongue tentatively moving over the fullest part of your lower lip. Damn. You sighed eagerly at the contact and Benjamin’s reservations faded entirely. She truly wants… He moved his hand lower, reaching around your back to hold your opposite hip tightly. Then, Benjamin kissed you, his large hand guiding your head and urging you to stay close to him, even as his tongue slipped past your lips and into your mouth, Benjamin’s confidence growing by the second as you welcomed the action. 

 You kissed him back, hand moving from his shoulder down and to his side. He felt the edges of your nails through the material of his shirt, digging into his skin, but he didn’t care, his focus solely on the way it felt to move his mouth against yours; the way you tasted - your toothpaste slightly different than his, the faint remnants of chapstick that you’d applied as you walked back to the hotel still on your lips. He mumbled your name as he took a moment to breathe, stroking the back of your head as he caught his breath. You were breathing hard too, and when Benjamin opened his eyes to look at you, he found that yours were open as well, clear and focused. “What?” He grinned at you, another short kiss landing on your mouth before he could stop himself. “What are you -” 

 You kissed him then, teeth catching on his lip as you drew it into your mouth, only letting go as you moved your body, the hand on his shoulder pushing him backwards and urging him to lay down. What is she… He let you guide him, registering the dip in the mattress as your knees dug in on either side of his hips, Benjamin’s hand moving away from the back of your head and joining his other one at your waist. “Benjamin, I know we…” You were kneeling above him, both of his feet still planted firmly on the floor, your hands resting against his abdomen. “I know we can’t…” You pressed your lips together. “But I want to… I just…” He felt both hands sliding upward, the material of his shirt between your fingers and his skin. “I’ve wanted to touch you for…” You curled your fingers as you shook your head, tilting it back and looking up at the ceiling. “For too long, and now you’re…” 

 “Then do it.” He used one hand to push the bottom hem of your shirt up just enough to run his other hand against the bare skin of your lower back. “I won’t stop you.” You hummed at his words, looking back down, and he felt you tugging on his shirt. Oh, she wants… “Let me sit up.” You did, carefully swinging your leg over his body as you turned to sit on the edge of the bed for a moment before standing, watching as Benjamin used his elbows to push himself back into a sitting position. Is this really going to happen? “C’mere.” He reached for one of your hands, urging you to turn back toward him completely. 

 Benjamin rose from the bed, angling his body to face yours. Reaching out, he took your hands in his, squeezing and then pulling them back toward his stomach. “Benjamin, what are you -” He guided them to a stop at his waist, changing the way he held onto you before he let go, hands dropping to his sides after squeezing your wrists once, his eyes on your face. “What -”

 “We can’t.” Your thumbs slipped below the bottom edge of his shirt. “Not tonight, not now.” Damn me for being so responsible, damn me for… He lifted his arms above his head. “Help me out here.” His words surprised him, but the look that crossed your features surprised him more. No one’s looked at me like that, not ever, not… “You’ve already seen me wi-” You moved swiftly, easing the shirt up and over his chest, Benjamin’s arms rising higher to help you. When it was removed, he watched as you tossed it over your shoulder, your eyes never leaving his face. “You’re staying dressed tonight. Shirt, shorts, the whole lot. Completely, unfortunately for me, dressed.” Though your lower lip jutted out in a pout, you nodded, gaze darting down at his bare skin. 

 He reached out again, taking your wrists and guiding your fingers back to his body. But you can… I can. This time, he circled his fingers around each of your arms as he raised them, halting the movement near the center of his chest, fingertips hovering above the small patch of hair that he’d let grow back. Julia never liked it, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Benjamin pulled his arms back, urging your hands closer, and as you made contact with his skin, he watched - and heard - you suck in a breath, teeth digging into your lower lip as your chest rose and fell above the collar of your shirt. “Benjamin.” It was only one word but he heard the surprise in it, even as your fingers flexed and his grip on your wrists loosened, hands sliding back down toward your elbows. “God, Benjamin, you -” I know. You have no idea how much I want to… He reached your torso, hands dropping from your arms to your sides and moving down slowly, his thumbs stroking your ribs through the material. 

 He couldn’t resist sliding his fingers under your shirt again as he made it to your waist, neither of you moving to close the space between you, though there wasn’t much left. He said your name, feeling one of your thumbs halt the small, circular path it had been following over his sternum. “Listen to me.” You nodded and Benjamin inched closer, holding you tightly. Ducking his head down, he spoke into your ear, choosing his words carefully. I’ve wanted to say this for weeks. “The second I finally get my hands on you.” His lips grazed your skin, and he continued. “I’m not going to want to stop.” He heard you hum, head tilting to the side and away from him as you spread your fingers over his skin. “So this is how it has to…” He took your earlobe between his teeth, biting down and guiding your hips along with him as he took a step backward, toward the bed. “How it has to go.” You nodded in agreement and then turned your head all the way toward Benjamin’s, his nose dragging against your cheek until your lips met. 

 He moved on autopilot, sitting back down on the bed and pulling you onto his lap before he leaned forward, easing you onto your back, one hand leaving your hip to support your weight. There was no hesitation in the way you kissed him, and though slightly dazed at the turn of events, Benjamin stayed right with you, bracing himself on one elbow next to you while his other hand moved up your side. Don’t get carried away. You cant. “Wait.” You gasped the word out, pushing Benjamin away slightly. What? What did I do? “Your legs are hanging off the bed, Benjamin.” You reached up, thumb skating over the top of his cheek, pausing for one brief second. My birthmark, she… “Can’t be comfortable.” Grinning, he repositioned himself on the bed, removing his hands fully from you as he stretched out, head and shoulders propped up on the pillows. Rather than moving to join him, you watched him intently, head cocked to the side. 

 “What.” He reached up, moving a hand over the top of his head, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. “You’re staring at me.” You brought a hand up to your mouth, extending your thumb and chewing on the nail for a few seconds as you thought. 

 “Yeah.” You took a deep breath, dropping  your hand and inching up the bed toward him, path changing at the last second as you rose up onto your knees, hands on the tops of your thighs. “I am.” He didn’t speak before you squared your shoulders, one index finger tapping against your leg. “How are you so calm right now?” He laughed, closing his eyes. “We could be… you could be…” I know. “You’ve got the patience of a saint, Benjamin Greene.” No, I don’t. 

 “For you? For this?” He gestured between you and then at the room around you. “I’m making an effort.” He eyed you, gaze lingering on your torso and then moving back to your face. “It’s a struggle, let me be clear.” You laughed hard at that, moving to straddle his thighs, wordlessly motioning with one hand to ask if it was ok, the smile still on your face. “You’re fine.” You settled down, Benjamin’s hands moving to replace yours on your legs, fingers spread wide.

 “If you’d told me,” you said quietly, eyes downcast as he squeezed gently, the knuckles of one of your hands moving over his abdomen, your other hand at his hip. “When I met you at Christmas that we’d be here?” Your head moved back and forth. “I’d have laughed. But here we are, and -” You flipped your hand, brushing your fingertips against the skin just above the waistband of his pants. “And I’’m not going to question it anymore.” You aren’t? “We’ve talked a lot, Benjamin, about you and Julia and your past, about what you want and about what you’re looking for, but what does it mean?” You looked up at him through your lashes, resolve on your face. “I’m proud of you. And I’m happy for you, and I hope that you don’t regret this later.” 

 “Regret it?” He slid his hand up, fingers curving around the back of your hip. “Of all the things I regret in my life - and there are loads of them - kissing you tonight isn’t even going to make the honorable mentions list.” You smiled at that, the look on your face changing to one of relief, and he pulled you closer, knocking you slightly off balance as his arms tightened around your waist and your hands flattened on his chest. “I promise.” You smiled again at his words, ducking your head, and Benjamin let his mind wander as your hands began to do the same, trailing over the muscles of his chest and shoulders.

 The weight of you on top of him was welcome, and even though he wanted nothing more than to relax all the way, laying on his back with you stretched out against his front, he knew it was the wrong call. We’re both being very mindful, we have to… we have to keep it up. “What do you want to do tomorrow?” She’s talking about tomorrow, like nothing… “Museums in the morning? The planetarium? A river tour?” You leaned in, kissing his jaw. “Plenty of options, as long as we’re inside before it starts raining.” He thought for a few moments, taken by surprise when he felt you shifting, your back arching slightly as you kissed the side of his neck, then his shoulder, hands gripping his biceps. What are you doing? 

 “I think.” He groaned as he felt your lips at the center of his chest before they moved lower, nuzzling against his skin, your grip tightening on him. “I think we should see what happens. The city’s not going anywhere, and…” He felt your teeth biting gently down, followed by your tongue moving over the area, and Benjamin pressed harder on your back in response. Torture, I think this is the… He said your name, waiting until you straightened back up to continue. “Is that alright with you?” Head tilted to the side, you watched him for a few seconds. 

 “Yes.” He leaned forward and your arms moved to wind around his neck, pulling him even closer. “It’s your vacation.” He wrinkled his nose as he moved his head to kiss you again, almost in disbelief at how easy it was to do so. That’s what happens when we’re not holding back. This is how it feels when it… He wasn’t stupid; Benjamin knew that it was far too soon in whatever it was that was going on between the two of you for things to feel comfortable and right, to think about more than the next few days, but he couldn’t help it. It’s been so long since I’ve felt...

 There’d been issues already - his lingering attachment to Julia and his marriage, your situation with Noah, the fact that the ocean that would separate the two of you was only one of the large problems that would keep things from being simple - but Benjamin was cautiously optimistic that what was happening wouldn’t be fleeting. And it’s real. It’s not just circumstance. It isn’t a rebound. You pulled away, taking a deep breath, and Benjamin licked his lips. “Want to lie down?” He didn’t want you to move from his lap, but even as he spoke you were already climbing off of him, standing and pulling the blankets down so that you could crawl beneath them. 

 Benjamin followed suit, and only a few seconds later the two of you were tangled in each other again. This time you were on your back and Benjamin’s bare upper body was pressed to yours, your nails digging into his skin as he kissed you. He felt you sigh as he lowered his lips to the thin skin of your throat, kissing his way across it before returning his attention to your lips, tongue delving back into your mouth to meet yours with no resistance or sign that you wanted him to do anything else. You’ve got to stop, Benjamin. You have to, otherwise… He broke away from you, turning his head and pressing his cheek into the pillow, feeling as you rolled forward and your forehead dropped to his chest, breath warm as it fanned out against his skin. “I’m sorry, Benjamin, I got…” You cleared your throat, looking at him with an almost guilty look in your eyes. “Carried away.” 

 Settling next to him, Benjamin was surprised when you rested your head against his shoulder, one of your arms draped over his chest, and Benjamin’s arm beneath your body and around your back. “Don’t apologize.” He kissed the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair as he tightened his hold on you. “I want this just as much as you do.” Maybe more. “But we have to be smart about this, because I’m not going to mess it up.” He spoke bluntly, knowing that he needed to. “I won’t.” Not again. You kissed his chest once more, thumb arcing back and forth against his side. 

 “You won’t,” you agreed, confidence in your voice. Getting comfortable, Benjamin felt himself begin to relax as his heart rate returned to normal, the weight of you in his arms calming him. You again fell asleep first, Benjamin’s ears trained to the sound of your lengthening breaths, focused on the way your body seemed to melt against his as you nodded off. I won’t sleep with her here. Not… not in a hotel. Not like before. He closed his eyes, taking another deep breath. Not with her. 

 --- 

 The weather changed overnight, and when Benjamin woke up the next morning, the sky beyond the curtains was a dark gray instead of the sunshine he’d expected. It should be light out. He turned his head toward the bedside table, eyes widening when he saw that it was nearly eight. We were supposed to be awake already. Glancing down, Benjamin felt himself smile as he saw you, your cheek pressed to the pillow as you slept on your stomach, the blanket pooled around your waist. You’d separated sometime in the night, and though he wasn’t touching you, you hadn’t gone far. I should get up. His eyes flicked to the window, curtains fluttering in the breeze, and as he took a breath, he smelled the rain on the air. Or I can just… He rolled forward, carefully laying his arm across your back and moving his face closer to yours, the smooth skin of your cheek and forehead the last thing he saw before he drifted back off. 

 “Benjamin.” He heard you speaking, though he didn’t open his eyes. “Benjamin, we overslept.” We did. “I know you’re awake, you’re trying not to smile.” He cracked one eye open at that, feeling as you ran your fingers through the hair at his temple. “Hi.” 

 “Hello.” His voice was still thick with sleep, and Benjamin licked his lips. “I woke up earlier, and -”

 “You should have gotten me up.” You bent an arm, propping your head up on your elbow. “Now we’ll have to -” He pointed with the arm that was still slung over you, interrupting. 

 “It’s raining. We’re not going to get a lot of walking done.” You paused mid sentence. “If we’d gotten a broll- an umbrella, I’d have no problem walking about, but… we haven’t.” He leaned closer, changing his mind at the last minute and kissing your cheek instead of your lips. “So I thought staying in bed was the best option.” I’d stay here all day. “But now that we’re awake, we can figure it out.” Still plenty of time before things close. You watched him with a smile on your face, remaining quiet. “We’ll get dressed and -”

 “Benjamin?” He heard the worry in your tone, immediately waking up all the way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. This wasn’t my goal for you being here, I -” He laughed, eyes closing and his head thumping against the pillow. “Why are you laughing?” 

 “You can’t plan this. Something like this? It’s only going to feel right if it’s… unexpected.” He opened his eyes, rolling onto his side to face you. “This was unexpected, at least with the way things turned out. You don’t need to apologize.” You still looked worried. “Not to me. Not to yourself. Not to… anyone.” His hand moved to your hip, Benjamin’s palm circling over it. “This happened - all of it - the way it was meant to.” You looked skeptical. Believe me. “Hey.” He leaned forward again, letting his mouth land against yours - but only for a few seconds. I just kissed her good morning for the first time. “Don’t do this. Just have fun with me.” One eyebrow shot up. “You’re supposed to be my tour guide, remember?” The room was quiet for long moments and then you reached forward, shoving him backwards, but Benjamin was faster than you, swiftly encircling you with his arms and pulling you on top of him again. 

 “Benjam -” You cut yourself off as you laughed, hair falling against his bare skin and your head dipping down, lips landing on the center of his chest. ‘Alright.” You squeezed his shoulders. “I can do that.” 

 --- 

 By the end of the day, Benjamin’s legs felt like they were going to fall off. After taking the time to get dressed and grab something to eat from the lobby, you and Benjamin took a car to a nearby CVS, buying two umbrellas. From there, you hopped on a bus, taking it north and crossing the river before getting off and beginning your walking tour of a soggy Chicago. 

 You were excited as you showed him buildings that he’d only ever seen pictures of - the towering, circular “corncobs”, music venues, theaters, even carefully making your way down the steps to walk next to the river from Wells to Dearborn. Benjamin loved all of it, taking in the closely packed buildings with awe, but even more importantly, enjoying your presence beside him as you walked and talked. He felt comfortable in the large city, comfortable with you, comfortable with the way he was feeling. It’s a good day. He felt you take his hand as you made your way back down Wabash, and without even thinking about it, he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing tightly. 

 Though he’d intended to visit as many of Chicago’s museums as possible while downtown, Benjamin decided that most of them could wait. Next time. Your final destination goal took you past Soldier Field, you and Benjamin getting into a slight disagreement about the sport played inside, but as you stopped in front of Adler Planetarium, Benjamin put his hands on both of your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey.” It had stopped raining somewhere around Roosevelt, and so you weren’t using your umbrellas anymore, both of them closed, covered and tucked into your purse. “It’s one or the other, the planetarium or the Field Museum, you pick.” 

 “You can see dinosaur bones anywhere, Benjamin.” You wrapped your arms around him, turning your head to tuck your cheek against his chest. “But not the sky, not like this, here. The planetarium gets my vote. I haven’t been there in a long time.” He held you close, eyes on the domed building over your shoulder. She’s right. “And when we’re done?” You looked up at him, the grin overtaking your face. “We’re getting a ride back to the hotel. I’m tired.” He laughed at that, but before he let you go, Benjamin lowered his face to yours, the tip of his nose brushing your cheek as he kissed you. He didn’t waste time before deepening it, teasing your lips open with his tongue and then taking your lip between his teeth and tugging as he pulled away, feeling you still pressed against him. “What was that for?” 

 You licked your lips and kept your eyes closed, a small smile on your face. “No reason.” He took a deep breath. “Gotta get as many of those in as I can while I’m here, hmm?” It was the first time he’d mentioned what leaving meant since the two of you had opened up to each other, but the words came out before he could stop them. Damn. “If you don’t -”

 “Oh, no.” You pulled away, one arm coming up, your fingers spread out over his chest. “You kiss me whenever you want to, Benjamin Greene.” He took that as an invitation, leaning down again and lifting both of his hands to your jaw, his large palms covering much of the lower half of your face. By the time his lips were against yours, you’d curled your fingers inward, one of them hooking on the collar of his shirt and tugging it down, the material gathered in your grip. The kiss lasted longer than any of the others before it, neither of you in any hurry to end it, and when you finally pulled away from him with a gasp, muttering the word “fuck” under your breath, Benjamin couldn’t do anything but smile. “Benjamin, that…” He stared at you, eyes moving over your face and taking in all of the details. Her lips are swollen, her cheeks and chest are red, her eyes… the way she’s looking at me. “Benjamin, if we don’t go inside now, it’s not even worth it.” You swallowed as Benjamin rubbed one thumb over your lower lip, unsurprised and yet taken aback when you puckered your lips to kiss it. Oh, hell. “Come on, Benjamin. Just a couple hours, you can’t go back home and tell people you looked at some buildings and saw a Ferris wheel. What kind of a vacation is that?” 

 Abruptly, you turned away from him, starting the walk toward the lake - and the front doors of the planetarium. He stared after you for a few seconds and then hurried to catch you, falling into step next to you well before you reached the entrance. That’s not all that happened on this trip. Not by a long shot. 

 ---

 “I think,” you groaned as you flopped backwards onto the unused bed, rolling onto your side and then stretching. “That I never want to walk another step in my life.” He was sitting on the edge of the bed you’d slept on, watching you. “How far did we walk today, it must have been….” He pulled his phone out, ignoring multiple alerts and thumbing through to his Health app. I’ll need to check those. 

 “Just under 21,000 steps for the day, according to this.” He wiggled his phone back and forth, tongue poking into the corner of his lips. “About 14 kilometers.” He watched you wrinkle your nose. Right, it’s miles here. “Hold on.” He typed quickly, eyes scanning the page. “Nine miles.” You groaned, covering your face with one arm. “Imagine doing that in boots.” You laughed at that, turning your head to look at him again. 

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of that, are your feet…” He nodded, waving you off. I’m fine. Don’t really want to get up, but I’m fine. “You did say you wanted to see the city.” He rubbed his eyes, taking a breath and watching you as you stretched again, scooting up so that your head was on the pillows. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see all of the things  you wanted to.” You were eyeing the ceiling, one arm folded back and beneath your head. “I’ve been to most of the museums here, but it’s been years, we always went with school, and I know -”

 “It gives me a reason to come back, right?” He got up, moving to the bed you were on and touching the arm that wasn’t under your head, fingers moving slowly up the inside of it and pausing at your elbow. “Maybe when it’s a little cooler out, and not so rainy?” You grinned at that, nodding.

 “You want to come back?” It was his turn to nod, his hand still making its way up, reaching your shoulder and turning, one fingertip slowly skating over your collarbone and neck, and then running along your jaw and cheek. Listen to her. You were humming at his touch, breath changing with every movement of his hand. “Benjamin, you have to stop that, I can’t…” Your eyes wide, you let out a breath. “It’s really unfair.” What is? 

 “Yes, I want to come back.” He leaned down, kissing the corner of your mouth. “And it’s only partially for the pizza.” You sighed, turning your head, and the next thing he knew, he was kissing you deeply again, learning the way your mouth moved, the feel of your fingers in his hair and the gentle pressure of your bent knee against his hip. You can’t get used to this, you’ve only got three days. It hit him suddenly - how little time he had left in Chicago, how short the hours left with you were, and he pulled back even more abruptly than you had in front of the planetarium. 

 “Benjamin?” You were confused - he could hear it in your voice and see it on your face. “What’s wrong? What did I -” He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to catch his breath. What do I even say to her? “I thought we were having a -”

 “We were. We are.” He dropped his hands, closing them into fists as he thought. “I just remembered that in a few days, I’m going to be on a plane and flying back to London.” Away from here, and back to… whatever’s waiting for me there. “I’ve been known to be impulsive, but with my history, I can’t just up and decide to outstay my visa, even by a few days, because…” He frowned. “Because I can’t risk the attention, and so…” He shrugged. “So that’s it, then. And it just… makes it more difficult to focus.” You sat up, bending both of your knees. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

 “Hey.” You squeezed his bicep. “I get it. These last few weeks went by fast, and I can’t believe you’re leaving in a couple days.” You chewed on your lower lip. “You and Eric. It’s been nice to have him back here too, even though I’ve seen less and less of him since he’s been with Michelle a lot.” Right, they’ve spent a lot of time together. “Just knowing that he’s close again is… I’m getting used to it, and then he’s going to be gone again.” You paused. “And so are you.” She’s mentioning my absence in the same … as her brother? “It sucks.” 

 Honesty from a woman was new for Benjamin, but he didn’t doubt the sincerity of your words the way he would have previously. Why would she lie? “Yes. It does.” He thought for a moment. “But I meant it. I’d like to come back, see more of the city, spend more time here.” 

 “It’s expensive, Benjamin. And there’s so many other places for you to see, you can’t just keep coming back here, it... It makes no sense.” Doesn’t it? Isn’t that how people get to know each other?  “Say something, please.” But he didn’t know what to say, so instead he reached out, taking one of your hands in his. 

 “I’ll be honest with you.” He let out a breath. “I used up a lot of my holiday time from work for this trip. I’ve only got... “ He thought, one eye narrowed as he counted in his head. “About six days total left for the year, so another long trip isn’t… it’ll be months.” He felt himself deflate as he said the last part, the finality of his words loud in the otherwise quiet room. “But that gives me a chance to look into more things to do here, and to plan my next trip.” There was another pause, and just as Benjamin opened his mouth to speak again, you cut him off with a single shake of your head. 

 “No, you know what?” You smiled at him, mood shifting again. “Let’s not think about that yet. We’ve got until Sunday morning, and… and there’s no reason to…” You swore, eyes closing. “I’m hungry, Benjamin. I don’t want to get up, but we should figure out what we’re going to eat before it gets too late.” Changing the subject? Just like that? “There are a couple restaurants in the hotel, and…” He listened as you spoke, rattling off the names and types of food served at a few nearby restaurants, but Benjamin felt a gnawing sensation in his chest. We can ignore it for now, but … in a few days? We can’t. You squeezed his hand hard, leaning closer, and Benjamin concentrated on you. We’ll figure it out. 

 --- 

 The next morning, Benjamin got into the shower while you were still in bed, pulling himself from your arms reluctantly to stand beneath the hottest water he could handle. You’d stayed up late the night before, making it back to the room just before midnight after spending a few hours at a Mexican restaurant down the street, talking over seemingly endless bowls of chips and salsa and some of the best tacos that Benjamin had ever eaten. You’d both had margaritas, but neither of you had had enough to get you drunk, and the conversation continued back in the room, much to Benjamin’s surprise. 

 You hadn’t tried to entice him into bed, hadn’t doubted any of his words or actions, and had simply been there with him - interested, involved and attentive as you talked. He’d told you more about what happened with Kieran, why he’d taken the blame, what he’d done after being released, and though you were curious, you’d been polite with what you’d asked him. I didn’t expect that. I don’t know what I expected, but… not that. He’d told you more than he’d ever told anyone - even Julia - and though you had no way to check the validity of his story, he hoped you’d believed him, because every word had been the truth. No more lies. No more deception. No more hiding. 

 There hadn’t been any discussion that night; the two of you had simply climbed into the same bed after getting changed as if it was routine, and though he’d tried, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself. Kept it PG, though, just… just wanted to touch her. When you’d nodded off, your back pressed to his bare-chested front, Benjamin took a few seconds to pull you closer, burying his nose in your hair and sighing as he relaxed even further. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep himself was tightening his arm around you and kissing the back of your shoulder, one of his legs hooked over yours, knee bent so that his heel grazed your calf. Couldn’t possibly get any closer. Not unless...

 He turned off the water, toweling himself off and then pulling on a pair of jeans before heading back into the room, surprised to see you on the phone, long legs bare beneath the oversized t shirt you wore. He cocked his head to the side, sitting down and watching you. Wonder who she’s… “Are you sure?” You smiled - a wide one - your eyes lighting up. “Yeah, Eric, if you’re…” Eric. What’s he want? “The order’s done, they know what they need to… yeah.” You paused. “Is she? OK.” Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and then let it out. “I guess… I guess I’ll see you later then, Eric. Thank you.” You darkened the screen and then set the phone down, eyeing Benjamin. 

 “What’s that about?” You didn’t answer right away, and Benjamin lifted a hand, running it through his damp hair. “Is Eric -”

 “How would you feel about spending some extra time downtown, Benjamin?” What? He felt himself grinning, eyes widening. “Eric is back at my place, and he says he’ll be there all day, since Michelle’s at work…” You leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek before moving your lips to his ear. “And that means he can let the tech in when he gets there today.” More time here? More time with… “So we don’t have to hurry back.” You sat up straight, your hands falling into Benjamin’s lap, one of them squeezing his thigh. “You might get to see that observation deck after all.” 

--- 

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[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 14

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Read Chapters 1-13 and more HERE

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump

CW: swearing, drinking, drug use, smoking, noncon touching (nonsexual)

-------

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: SIGN ON THE DOTTED LINE

        The “In Memoriam” portion of the ceremony was a bit much. Not that Arch could say anything about why they thought that way without being called callous. They heard some sniffling from the upper balconies; Parents of three students who had gone missing or were found with parts of their bodies severed and strewn across the side of the highway. Two, so far, had been gruesomely identified without their heads, and neither of them had their hearts either.

        Marcus was still missing.

        But no one would find him until he too, had his heart and head removed. Arch would likely be recruited to help with that one as well. When they asked Lyrem what to do with him, he simply smiled and told them to be patient.

        They were already quite upset with Lyrem for not allowing them the opportunity to take Kyle’s life. They had tortured and flayed the young man for weeks, sure, but Arch was under the impression that his life was reserved for them. Lyrem had shown up at the house afterwards with a raspberry scone and a fresh coffee in his hand after the deed had been done. He blamed Arch for it too.

        “If you hadn’t forced my hand after disposing of the shape-shifter,” he said- not angrily, just in his usually condescending tone. “Then I wouldn’t have had to use my remaining strength to keep you in line.”

        By in line, Lyrem meant the sudden and unexpected visit he had paid to Charlotte, Arch’s mother. But Arch couldn’t remember her now. Her face, her voice, anything she had ever said or done or created… well, all Arch sensed in their memory now was a deep and everlasting shadow where their mother should have been.

        As far as Arch could recall, they had been living with Lyrem since the beginning of time- even though, logically, they knew it couldn’t be true. There were no photos of them together- and for the first few days that Lyrem had taken over that little house, he had thrown out bags of clothing that didn’t belong to him. He burned anything that left the mere scent of Charlotte behind. And he scoured the place to be certain that she hadn’t left as much as a footprint in her wake.

        Arch’s bedroom was moved upstairs, into the light. That was where it once was. Why they had moved to the basement where the wolf spiders snuck between the old shag carpeting and the cat made regular use of one of the corners as a bathroom, they couldn’t recall. They had felt safe there, though.

        But, Lyrem was right. They deserved to live above ground, they deserved a window and they deserved protection from annoying spider bites.

        The walk across the stage commenced, and Arch was thankful for the use of their real name. It was nice that people finally respected them. They shook the hand, posed for a photographer and exited on the staircase, wondering how much longer before it was finally over.

        Lyrem had mentioned he wanted photos, so they would take a friend up to meet with him to make him happy. It seemed that many of the things Arch found themselves doing, was to make him happy. This romper for instance…

        He couldn’t have picked out something even just a little more neutral?

        Benjamin to the rescue, as always, he pulled Arch and Shazia down the stairs to enter a limo, but at the bottom, he turned a quick corner and pulled out some tiny liqueur bottles from his pockets. He handed one to each of them. Arch drank it down without a problem; they had barely tasted it and allowed it to burn the back of their throat. The other two pinched their noses.

Abandoning their bottles to the trash bin by the stairs, they stood near the back of the line to enter the last limo on the street. Before pulling off, Arch spied through the window, seeing Lyrem on his way down the stairs with a stranger- a very pretty stranger.

        “So, was that your grandpa?”

        Arch turned back and nodded. They might as well go along with it. The neon lights inside bathed the graduates in multiple colours that caused the sequins on the dresses to sparkle with fervour.

        “Doesn’t like…” Benji started, then reconsidered his words. “Doesn’t your dad or someone chaperone these things a lot?”

        Arch looked at him funny and scowled. “You know I don’t have a dad.”

        “I could’ve sworn… nah, nevermind. I don’t even remember the dude’s name.”

        “My dad’s chaperoned once,” Shazia added, “but it’s really no fun when he does because”-

        “Your dad threatened me last time!” Benji said emphatically. “I won’t forget that shit. He’s got scary eyes. Watched me all night ‘cause he thought I wanted to get into your pants.”

        Arch laughed at him as he enthusiastically recalled everything to a T.

        The limo emptied outside the school gymnasium. Walking in, there was yet another “In Memoriam” display set up by the door with photos of Jess and Kyle. Marcus’s parents refused to have their son added to the table. That was too hopeful of them, Arch thought

        “Rest in pieces, guys,” Benji kissed two fingers and pressed them onto the photos.

        Shazia punched him in the arm, and then stood beside Arch to pay her respects. She muttered a few words of respectful prayer and stared at Arch with care in her deep brown eyes.

        “I’m glad you’re not on this table too,” Shazia mentioned. “I don’t think I would have been able to do anything after… you know… what you went through.”

        An instant pang of guilt dropped into Arch’s stomach. They pulled themselves from the table.

        “Whatever,” they said. “I’m alive.”

        The intro of “Dancing Queen” blared through the gymnasium along with the chorus of voices that would sing along and jump around to it. Girls pointed to each other. Boys stood around looking out of place, unless they had a drink in their hands- for whatever reason, they preferred an excuse to stay in place instead of also succumbing to ABBA’s inviting rhythm.

        The DJ mixed a series of beats slower and faster, older songs and younger songs, and after a couple hours, the gym was swelteringly hot. Arch and Benji had decided to abandon Shazia to the dance circle as they recouped outside in the field by a short tree grove.

        Chaperones hardly watched the students coming and going. They were stuck on their screens, scrolling through treasured apps and keeping up their texting quotas.

        Benji pulled out a joint from his pocket.

        “Wow, you really came prepared,” Arch commented dryly.

        “Have to be! I was a boy scout,” Benji stated. Searching for his box of matches through his baggy suit, he grimaced. “What are the odds that one of them’s got a light?”

        He pointed to a chaperone near the door. Arch shook their head.

        “Here,” they took the joint into the hand. “Don’t tell anybody that I did this for you.”

        Benji looked on confused, then furrowed his brows as a small orange glow emitted from Arch’s palm as they held their hand around it. The joint lit itself up with so much as a whisper from his friend. Arch took a puff, coughed and then handed it over with a nod.

        “What the fuck, Arch?” Benji took it back. Studying it bewildered. He puffed too as he watched them struggle to keep from coughing again.

        “Grandpa taught me a magic trick,” they managed.

        “Yeah?” Benji nodded, “Sure, yeah, great… is he fucking Dumbledore?”

        Arch laughed.

“Well, he’s not fucking Dumbled”-

“Arch?’

They turned towards the walking path where the forest line started- where they had just heard their name. Through the darkness of the trees, it was difficult to see who was there at first.

        “Hey, this is the guy I remember,” Benji said. “Sorry, man, I forgot your name.”

        The silhouette and shaggy hair were all Arch could see before they backed away on instinct.

        The man had a slight limp as he approached; in the same clothing he was wearing the night he had first attacked them.

        “Benji… Benji, run!” Arch cried out. They pushed Benji away. He halfway fell into a towering spruce as he was not expecting the shove; he heard the faint killer beats of “Rasputin” pounding out from the gymnasium.

        “What the hell, Arch?” Benji brushed himself off, then started searching the ground for his joint that became lost in the needles.

        The man shook his head, and reached out, grasping Arch’s wrist tightly with his other hand.

        “Arch, please”-

        Shouting the flame incantation this time, Arch pressed their hand into the back of theirs, forcing him to release them. He shouted.

        “For fuck sakes’ Arch! Seriously?!”

        The man stepped backward again, to check their new burn. He became distracted enough that he failed to notice the black cloak appearing to his left.

        Emerging beside him, was none other than Paimon. He had arrived with his cane. With a breath of relief and a quick nod from Arch, Paimon raised his cane in a wide swiping motion to the man. Startle by the sudden movement, he held up a hand, and caught the cane mid swing. Growling, he pushed Paimon back a step.

        “I’m not here for you,” the man said, daring to push past the demon.

        “How grand. I am not here for you either,” Paimon smiled. His eyes glowed orange, then he raised a hand. “Not quite yet, Arty. Bye, bye.”

        “Wh-”-

Immersed in darkness, the man was gone.

        Paimon turned to Arch, with a grin.

        “What did you call him?” Arch asked the demon urgently.

Paimon waved off their question and stole a glance at the boy who witnessed the strange and frightful encounter.

“A-Arch?” Benji stuttered, unsure of how strong his pot was and if it ever induced such vivid trips of the imagine such as this. Perhaps his brother laced it with something as a prank again. “What just happened? Where’d he go?”

Paimon raised his hand.

“No!” Arch lunged, but before they could catch Benji, he disappeared into the darkness as well. They were met with the side of a bushy, pokey pine and pulled themselves back. They turned around to face Paimon who seemed unperturbed by his own flippant action.

Paimon retrieved some necessary documents from a satchel on his side, paying little attention to Arch, as they cussed him out for removing their friend from this plane of existence.

“Bring them back!”

“I will, I will. I just wanted to bring you these papers to sign,” Paimon presented them with several papers of legal length stapled together. “It’s the deed to Mystics, as well as the many responsibilities of Lyrem Nomadus that he wished for you to… inherit. He has been breathing down my neck about these things for nearly three weeks now. I thought I would get you to sign them as soon as I was able.

It was a good thing I found you when I did too… That man really has some nerve returning, doesn’t he?”

Arch grabbed the papers and flipped through them quickly. Out of recall, there were quite a few things that were discussed one night in the presence of one of Paimon’s personal, infernal lawyers. She had the fancy black car parked outside of Mystics… It was the same night that Arch had left home in a huff. It was the same night that they had met Paimon and his greasy smile for the first time. It was the same night that they had missed an entire hour before they were…

Attacked?

By a man… named- if they had heard Paimon correctly- Arty?

Paimon clicked and handed them a little pen with a pink fuzzy end. Arch accepted it without much thought.

“This is going to take me days to read…” they mumbled. The document was fine print the whole way through and impossible to see in the lighting of a faraway streetlamp.

“Mm, well, you don’t have days, I’m afraid.” Paimon noted. “Lyrem was quite insistent that it be signed over now.”

Arch looked over at him.

“Now?”

“You want him to be safe, don’t you?” Paimon asked.

“Of course,” Arch answered.

“And you want to take over his businesses? His empire?”

“Well, eventually, ye”-

“And you wanted to be powerful. And strong.”

“I am powerful. I am strong.”

“For now,” Paimon finished for them. “You are only being given what you are allowed. Those little tricks with fire were taught to you only because Lyrem was having fun. But you won’t need him any longer if you sign on the dotted line. It will all come naturally to you. His power- it will belong- all of it, to you.”

“… But his debts”- Arch didn’t know much about them, but Lyrem went oddly quiet each time they were mentioned.

“His debts are quite the price, yes. But signing this is how you ensure his safety. No one will be in a rush to kill a man like him if his debts are passed on to you- they’ll want to milk him for everything they can. And when he does die, you will be more than capable of handling the rest of it, of that, I am certain.” Paimon checked them over with a hungry grin. Arch stepped back, exhaling heavily, they were stuck.

“Bring Benji back?”

Paimon leaned forward, supporting himself by his cane. Arch didn’t know why they had bothered to ask that question. They already knew what the answer would be.

“When. You. Sign.”

Arch gulped. The chaperones and other kids were none the wiser about what had been occurring in the dark. They might as well have been completely alone with the demon. They didn’t know where Benji was, if he was safe. They couldn’t let him become another missing kid.

Arch examined Paimon- even with the time crunch, they tried to be thorough.

“Lyrem needs to sign too, doesn’t he?”

“He was the one to request it. He doesn’t need to sign.”

“Fuck,” exhausting themselves, Arch exclaimed. “Fine! I’ll sign. But you promise to bring Benji back? Alive?”

“Of course.”

Arch flipped to the last page, scrawled their signature at the end and handed it back.

Paimon presented Benji back to where he had been before- only this time, he was covered in a dark slime, and reeked of sulfur. He flipped his head around, and soon realized he was back among the trees, smelling the fresh nighttime air and hearing the beginning of “Firework” he whimpered to himself in relief and sat himself down on the mulchy ground.

“There, all back.” Paimon inclined his head, and tipped their hat. “Just as I promised.”

Arch abandoned him for their friend to stand beside him as he processed the unwanted journey.

“And what about the man?” They inquired.

“Into the Labyrinth, of course.”

Arch huffed. “If he’s in the Labyrinth, then why do I still remember him?”

Paimon shook his head with a menacing smile plastered over his lips where it had no right to belong. They draped an arm around Arch’s shoulder and squeezed them tight. Arch attempted to pull themselves away, but it only caused Paimon to pull them in closer, pulling them away from poor Benji.

“Oh… Sweet thing,” he spoke quietly, into their ear. “That man is the least of your worries now.”

“What do you mean?” A sinking feeling grew in the pit of their stomach. They were either starting their period early, or Arch’s fears were right, and they had signed away something more than they should have. “What are you talking about?”

Nails dug into Arch’s flesh. Their shoulder bled nearly instantly as Paimon gripped them tightly and Arch gasped and seethed and failed to pull away. It only forced his nails deeper, and his grin to grow wider. The magic that Arch currently contained was minimal, wasted on the man who was just there- and so they could do nothing but endure the disturbing revelation.

“I may have bribed our lawyer to amend certain statements in the documents in my favour. You remember her, don’t you Arch? Ms. Bornath?”

Arch angled their head to stare at Paimon more easily. Yes, they remembered Ms. Bornath. She didn’t seem like much of a threat, but obviously she could be bought.

“You really ought to have read it first. You signed everything over to me. Not Lyrem’s debts, obviously,” Paimon said. “Those still belong to him until he eventually dies- something I will not allow to happen… You- your essence, your power, your soul.  It’s all mine now. You may as well quit your day job, in my opinion. You won’t be needing it. From now on, you work for me.”

Paimon switched his stance to be in front of Arch, finally allowing them to breathe a little easier and to monitor their mess of a shoulder. They should have insisted on a romper with a capped sleeve.

“Now, Lyrem has asked me to give you one last night of freedom before I take you with me, and I will grant his request only because I respect him quite highly”-

“Does Lyrem know?” Arch blurted out, unexpectedly.

Paimon grinned, hearing the notes of betrayal in their voice- a melody to their ears. He would happily crush Arch’s reliance on the old man with a smirk and a few choice words-

“Hey, y-you asshole!”

Arch turned, as did Paimon, to the voice emitted from the trees- It was Benji, who seemed to be unsure of what he was doing entirely. He stole a shaken glance to Arch who stared back in concern and obliviousness. The last thing they wanted was to lose anyone else to the Labyrinth. Benji seemed pretty confident that he would be alright and soon enough, Arch would know it too.

Paimon shouted in a fury as he felt the unexpected intrusion of a Bowie knife through his back. Arch saw the tip of the blade glinting in the low light, thoroughly stabbed through Paimon’s chest. The blade retreated quickly and Arch saw a glow- a blue glow, coming from the head of the man. Before Paimon had any time to react, the man’s hand also glowed with the same blue flame. With little more than a touch to his forehead, Paimon was lit up in blue.

Scrambling to save his beard from the fire, and then the rest of him, Paimon screamed in frustration. As the man turned to face him, Paimon snarled. A moment later, he retreated, dispersing into the darkness. The blue fireball was gone.

Huffing in relief, the man turned- not to Arch, but towards Benji. His crown of blue flame shrank to nothing, and his head resumed its plain greasy charm.

“Thanks for the distraction, kiddo,” he said. “I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

“I’ve… had worse trips,” Benji began to smile, then leaned over the pine bush. He wretched and puked up into the dried leaves and needles.

Arch debated leaving Benji behind. It wouldn’t have been the worst thing they’d done, after all. But they sensed that they had a lot to make up for in order to be considered a good person again. They stood between their friend, and the man called Arty, who didn’t seem to be comfortable looking back at them.

“So…” Arty began. “You work for demons now, too?”

Arch refused to entertain him.

“Get away”-

“Arch”-

“I said get the hell away!” Arch didn’t have much for weapons, but they knew how to wield a stick at the very least. They were surrounded with plenty of those.

“I know you’re confused,” he said, maintaining his stance. “But I am not here to hurt you.”

Arch glanced toward the knife that was still covered in Paimon’s blood, or whatever it was that demon’s bled- it was difficult to tell in the darkness. Arty looked down at it too, then wiped it down on his own clothes before sheathing it on his belt. He held both hands up-

“See? Mostly unarmed.”

Benji stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He walked around Arch, towards Arty. If Arch was quicker, they would have pulled him back.

“Hey, uh, dude?” he started, noticing Arch’s confusion and look of betrayal. “Is it cool if I just walk home on my own? I don’t really feel like sticking around here to party anymore.”

Arty looked him up and down, incredulously.

“Uh, yeah? Yeah! Go home, kid… Good- good work tonight.”

“Cool.” Benji nodded tiredly, and then waved to Arch. “See you around, Arch. I promise I’ll bring better dope for next time.”

Arch watched him leave down the path.

“Okay… Yeah… See ya.”

Furrowing their brows, Arch was left standing alone in the field with… Arty… Not the man. And he was the next to speak.

“Can we talk?”

[osterfieldshollandgirl]

Father’s Day Surprise

Thank you @fancyxholland​ for helping with the child’s name!

           Harrison and you have been married happily for five years with a three-year-old son Benjamin (Benji)  whom you both love and cherish very much. For Father's Day morning, you have a plan set to cook breakfast and bring it up to the bedroom with our son Benji's handmade card. The day before Father's Day, Harrison wanted to go out with the boys to the pub, but he also was torn because he wanted to spend time with his family. The situation is that he spends most of the time during the week at work and when he comes home Benji is asleep and you are too tired to stay up to have a conversation while still being able to respond fully. There have been a couple of nights where you stayed up and waited for him, and he was very appreciative of it but ended up taking you to bed and cuddling you until you fell asleep.        

          The weekend was the only time you had with him and this weekend was Father's Day weekend and he wanted to spend with those he loved. During the week you would try to convince him that going out one night would not upset Benji or You and after the week he had on set, he decided to go with the boys. That Friday evening, when he came home, you were cooking dinner in the kitchen when you felt arms wrap around your waist and a soft kiss on your neck leading up to your cheek. After making sure the stove was on the right flame, you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned up kissing his sweet lips. He moans into the kiss making you smile through the kiss and causing Benji to squeal with excitement when he saw his daddy. You jumped slightly forgetting that Benji was in his highchair eating a banana as you cooked, and Harrison pulled away and walked over to his son. "Hi Baby, I missed you so much" and gave lots of sweet kisses on Benji's cheeks. I laugh and watch the moment lovingly and take a short video of them together, smiling from ear to ear. You then go back to cooking and Harrison comes back from changing from work clothes to help set up for dinner.        

      At the dinner table, Harrison is nervous about your reaction to him wanting to go out instead of spending time with Benji and you. He clears his throat and you were trying to get Benji to eat his piece of chicken and when he did, he clapped his hands cheering. Once you finished cleaning his hands, smiling you asked, "Yes baby what is it?" He makes eye contact with me and finally confesses, "I told the boys that I will meet the boys at the Pub tomorrow, I did not want to upset so I can stay home if you want me too." You smile and say, "Of course go and have fun with the boys. You deserve a nice boy's night.", even though you were hoping he would say he would stay home with you to spend time together. They're also a special announcement that you wanted to tell him but maybe you could tell him on Father's Day with the help of Benji. He smiles and grabs your hand kissing the back of it, "This is why I love you so much. Thank you so much for understanding." You all continue to eat dinner, and you are happy that he is going to have a fun weekend. "Love, can I get you a glass of wine? I am going to grab a beer." Harrison asks as he walks towards the kitchen. "No, thank you. I am okay for tonight." You respond hinting to what you wanted to say. He mumbles "Okay" confused you usually loved wine with your dinner but decided to leave it alone. He comes back and leans over to kiss your lips in a loving matter. You kiss back, but thoughts start to pop up in your mind. The thought of him taking the news differently makes you feel unsure hoping with the news that I will give him will not make him wish he were living another lifestyle.

       The next day the morning went fast, it started with warm cuddles being interrupted with Benji crawling onto your bed and jumping at the bottom of Harrison's side of the bed. Harrison wakes up with a smile on his face and sits up in the bed grabbing Benji and giving kisses all over his little face causing Benji to giggle and smile. You leaned back and watched how cute this was. Harrison then puts Benji in the between you both and pulls you both close to his chest. His hand is placed on your waist almost on your stomach and you smile down, remembering how he used to do that before Benji was born. And now that the second one was on the way; he was doing something similar without realizing it. He catches you smiling and just admires you silently thinking about how lucky he is to live life this way.

        After eating breakfast together, Benji went to secretly make Harrison a Happy Father's Day card in his playroom while I made sure I had everything for the special morning breakfast. Harrison was getting ready to go and I could hear him singing to himself and you smile how happy he was to spend time with his best mates. Before He left for the night out, he came over and picked me up and put me on the kitchen counter while stepping between my legs. I wrap my arms around his neck while pulling him closer and he smirks and leans down capturing my lips with his in a needy and passionate kiss. He slips his tongue into my mouth fighting for dominance and I start to pull at the hair at the nape of his neck making him moan, as his hands move down my body to hips. Before it gets too hot, he pulls away breathing heavy and kisses me one last time, "I needed that it has been far too long since we have been alone." I laugh and agree, little did he know we are not alone because Benji is standing at the kitchen doorway looking confused. Harrison shakes his head in an embarrassing matter and leaves from his position as he helps me down. He picks up Benji and kisses his cheek as he passes him to me, as I hold Benji. He say's "Good night, just go to bed tonight I will sleep on the couch tonight." I nod and he kisses me on the cheek as he walks past us to rush to the Pub. The night passes by fast as you set his gift with Benji's card and made sure everything is good to go and see it is Benji's bedtime. You put Benji to bed and as you get ready for bed before you put pain medicine and water for him as well as granola bar for him to eat if he is hungry. I am ready for bed and hold my stomach for a second, "We are all excited for you to come and join our family. I love you and so will your brother and dad." That night Harrison somehow managed to come into bed and wrapped himself around, placing his hands on my stomach.

          The next morning on Father's Day morning, you quietly got out of bed without waking Harrison up. You made yourself presentable and made sure the night before that Benji would sleep well and long so he would not wake Harrison up before giving the breakfast surprise. You walk past Benji's room and he is fast asleep as you go to cook the breakfast your heart is racing as time is ticking for the moment. You finish off the breakfast and head upstairs, along the way grabbing the gift and heading into Benji's room to find Benji sitting up in his bed as you enter his room. You smile and go to hug and kiss him good morning, putting his I am going to be a big brother shirt and have him hold the gift bag as you walk with him towards the bedroom. Benji walks over to Harrison's side of the bed and puts his softly on his dad's cheek and pats it gently to wake him up. Harrison wakes up knowing that pat and kisses his palm, pulling him onto bed noticing the gift bag, and you holding a tray with breakfast. I place the tray on his bedside away from Benji and go to my side of the bedsit down.

         "Happy Father's Day!" Benji says in his cute voice. "Thank you, buddy, what is in the bag, can you open it for me?" He says in his dad's voice. I sit on the bed biting my lip watching him look at the card Benji made and wait patiently for him to read the shirt. Benji then sits up and says" Read my shirt Daddy." Harrison smiles and scans the shirt; first shock and confusion show on his face and then happiness as he looks at you while holding Benji close in a hug. "You are going to be the best big brother and always protect your sibling with love and care." He says and then leans over and kisses me so passionately making it feel like our first kiss. We pull away breathless and I say, "I was so nervous because I thought you would be upset." Watching his reaction, he looks surprised, "I would never be upset you gave me the best present two beautiful children and a gorgeous wife." I blush and feel butterflies in my stomach and know that the baby is accepted and appreciated. Benji cuddles into Harrison's chest as Harrison points to my stomach and says's "Your siblings are in there." And Benji kisses your belly talking to it about everything and anything. You all cuddle while Harrison finishes his breakfast and after puts his hands on your stomach and admires you for you being you.

       The day flows wonderfully after that, you both let Benji watch Thomas and Friends so you both can make phone calls. I hear Harrison face time Tom and Harry acting normal at first, then saying, "We are expecting, so be ready to be uncles to one more little Harrison or Y/N running around." And I hear the cheers and excitement making me smile, this was the best Father's Day for everyone.

Tag list:

@littlekidsteve​ @peachyxholland @tom-holland-is-spiderman @follow-tom-holland-is-spiderman @parkerpeter24 @frenchfrostpudding @osterfieldnholland  @fanficparker @mymoontom @holytingle @petertiingz @marvels-blue-phoenix @marvelatmendes @k-k0129 @fancyxholland

[ironfidus]

Every Fifteen Minutes (2)

Summary:

“In honor of Peter Benjamin Parker,” the obituary reads. “2001 - 2017. Peter B. Parker, 16, died on the 5th of February, 2017, as a result of injuries sustained in a car crash involving a drunk driver…”

Tony can't finish reading. He swears his heart stops. “FRIDAY,” he croaks.

He doesn’t have to finish the order; FRIDAY, as if reading his mind, activates his Iron Man suit and sends it to envelop his body. Tony is shooting through the skies before he even fully realizes it.

OR: Peter Parker was in a car crash—except... he wasn’t. One forgetful Spider-Kid, one sleepy best friend, and one misleading post on social media all lead to a disastrous turn of events, culminating in the arrival of an unexpected guest at Midtown High.

Read here on AO3 (@a_matter_of_loyalty)

:::

Chapter 2: grip you tight (but you’re slippin’ out)

Chapter Summary: Tony Stark arrives at Midtown High. Unfortunately, he's still under the impression that Peter Parker is dead. 

Naturally, chaos (and drama) ensues.

:::

After giving the students a few minutes to finish their lunches, Principal Morita activates the intercom and urges all juniors and seniors to the parking lot to witness the—simulated, of course—car crash. The teachers and participating emergency responders had planned out the simulation in excruciating detail: the police officers had donated a wrecked car from evidence lockup to be used for the simulation, and they’d already sectioned off the site of the crash with yellow tape. Two of the participants—one senior and one junior—had been selected for the fabrication and informed of their roles.

One of the seniors—Douglas Fitzpatrick, if Morita remembers correctly—would act as the drunk driver, “arrested” at the scene for all to witness. The junior, on the other hand—Peter Parker, Morita recalls faintly—would be posing as the casualty. Morita was worried, at first, that it might be too traumatic for Peter to play dead—Morita knows Peter’s family history, after all. But when asked if he would participate, Peter had agreed reluctantly and asked, All I have to do is lie still, right? 

Morita nodded at that. And then, to everyone’s surprise, Peter had merely beamed and reasoned, Great! I’m kind of tired—I didn’t get much sleep last night—so I’ll just sleep through it.

(True to his words, Peter had started dozing off as soon as they’d arranged him on the road, before they’d even finished smearing the fake blood across his forehead.)

Morita had been stunned. Mr. Harrington had choked. 

But, well, at least Peter had said yes, which means that everyone involved has now been thoroughly prepped. All they have left to do is present their demonstration to the student body and hopefully ingrain an understanding of the repercussions of drinking-and-driving in the students.

:::

Car crash…? Ned wonders to himself in confusion, head snapping up at the sound of his principal’s voice echoing through the school hallways. He feels vaguely nauseous. Oh shit, there was a car crash? Here? 

He curses to himself and pushes his lunch away, jumping from his seat and following the other students outside. Where on earth is Peter? he asks himself, not for the first time. After leaving Mr. Harrington's classroom earlier, he’d gone straight to the cafeteria, hoping to run into Peter either along the way or inside the lunch hall. Peter’s always getting hungry, after all; Ned reasons it isn’t too farfetched that Peter left earlier to snag himself a big portion. But even after scouring the cafeteria, Ned still hasn’t caught sight of Peter, and his mind is running rampant with fear.

Morita mentioned a car crash. If there really has been an accident in front of their own school, Ned has no doubt that Peter will want to be the first one to arrive at the site of the incident, doing his best to help even if it means giving up his secret identity.

My anonymity isn’t worth anyone’s lives, Peter once told Ned, determination burning in his gaze. If it comes between keeping my secret and saving someone… I know what I have to do.

Oh, shit, Ned swears. Please tell me he hasn’t been exposed—

His worry spiking as he jumps to conclusions, Ned hastens his pace and weaves his way through the other students, trying to push through the crowd. When he finally barrels through the gates and arrives at the parking lot, he freezes, the reality of attention all juniors and seniors, there has been a car crash by the parking lot, please proceed in an orderly fashion wrapping around him like a vice.

A large number of juniors, seniors and teachers are already gathered around the site of the crash, lined in neat rows. Ned ignores the orderliness of it all and forces his way to the front, heart caught in his throat.

(If Ned were thinking clearly, he would have realized something is off about this entire situation. After all, why would Principal Morita be encouraging students to go to the site of a tragedy?

But Ned isn’t thinking clearly, partly because of his still-drowsy mind and partly because of his concerns for his best friend.)

Ned inhales sharply when he’s finally able to see beyond the assembled students to the crime scene.

Ambulances and police cars are already lined up along the street, with EMTs and police officers alike leaping out of their vehicles to respond to the accident. One officer yanks open the mangled car door and drags the driver out by the cuff of his shirt.

The driver looks young, Ned thinks, squinting his eyes. Have I seen him somewhere before…? 

Shaking it off, Ned turns back to the scene. Thankfully, Spider-Man is nowhere to be seen. Ned knows he shouldn’t be relieved about that—shame punches through him even as he thinks it—but he also knows that Peter isn’t truly ready to have his identity exposed to the world, even if he is resolved to give up his secret for the sake of others. 

As the police officer tests the driver for his blood alcohol levels—god, I can’t believe this is happening at my own school—the paramedics break off to approach someone else, a figure on the street Ned previously missed.

Ned stiffens. The pedestrian—the victim, Ned thinks faintly to himself—lies sprawled out on the street, streaks of blood painted across his forehead. The victim looks even younger than the driver, hauntingly unmoving as he rests collapsed on the road. I’ve never seen a dead body before, he thinks numbly, bile bubbling up inside him, and his mind shrieks at him to pull away. But something about the situation, macabre as it is, keeps him fixated, horror and fear curdling in his gut. The victim—my age, he’s my age—looks eerie, skin pale and—

No.

It takes Ned a moment—a moment longer than it should—to recognize the victim. Beneath the blood, Ned knows that face; he knows those freckled cheeks and that tranquil smile and that mess of curls.

He knows. 

Ned’s heart drops like lead, descending through the soles of his feet and burrowing into the pavement, as he finally understands why Spider-Man isn’t at the scene of the crime.

Answer: because Peter Parker already is.

No, no, no—

Ned watches, paralyzed, as the paramedics crowd around Peter—his best friend, his brother—in a rush of footsteps and white coats. One of them kneels down beside Peter and feels for his heartbeat, fitting two fingers against Peter’s neck.

No.

The paramedic stands, head bowed, and quietly announces Peter to be dead on arrival.

Ned doesn’t hear the whimper that exits his mouth. He doesn’t feel the sharp twinge that shoots through him as he crashes to his knees, hands shaking by his side. He isn’t aware of anything but the fragmenting of his heart, the roaring in his ears, the tears in his eyes, the blood on Peter’s face—

Dead on arrival. Dead. 

Ned only regains awareness, rapidly stumbling to his feet, when the paramedics start lifting Peter onto a stretcher. Just as they are about to cover Peter’s face with a white cloth—no no no—Ned bulldozes his way through, shoving away anyone and everyone in his path. “No!” he gasps, and the desperate objection comes out strangled. “What are you doing?” Don’t you know he’s claustrophobic? he wants to ask, rooted in denial. He’ll be so scared. He won’t be able to breathe. “Peter? Peter! Hey!”

“Hey, kid, you can’t be here—” one of the paramedics starts.

“Get out of my way!” Ned shouts, ducking under the paramedic’s outstretched hands. He can vaguely hear the other students start to murmur in confusion, but he doesn’t let that stop him. Their voices are muffled in his ears. All he can hear is Peter’s laugh, like a distant memory, an echo of another time. Like hell I can’t be here, he thinks angrily. That’s my best friend. He’s my friend and he’s not fucking dead. 

(He can’t be. Please don’t let him be dead.)

“Peter!” He skids to a stop by Peter’s side, nearly falling over onto his knees a second time. “Peter? Why aren’t you responding?” He lurches forward and grips Peter’s hands, hanging limply from either side of the stretcher, with urgency. Please respond, Peter. Please. “Peter—”

“Where the hell is he!?” an unexpected voice bellows from above, sharp and frenzied enough to be heard by the entire crowd. It’s a voice all of them have heard before, though most only recognize it from interviews and press conferences and the ever-iconic reveal of I am Iron Man. “Kid? Kid!”

“What the hell?” someone yelps from the crowd. “What is Tony Stark doing at Midtown High? In Queens?”

“Tony Stark? Here?”

“No way!”

“In the sky, look!”

“Oh, my god. It’s Iron Man!”

“Holy shit, it’s really him! Tony Stark! At our school!”

Ned tears his eyes away from the bloody face of his best friend for the first time since he spotted him. He leans back on the heels of his feet, eyes darting to the sky—and sure enough, Tony Stark hovers above them, panels of red and gold gleaming under the midday sun.

“Mr. Stark!” the name rips out of Ned’s throat with a choked gasp. And then, more desperately: “Oh, god, Mr. Stark.”

Iron Man’s repulsers power off with a mechanical whine. The suit lands mere feet away from Ned with a thud—the force of which makes Ned flinch closer to his friend until he remembers Peter is lying still and dead, unable to help—before the faceplate finally slides open, revealing the famous face of Anthony Edward Stark.

“Ned.” Tony’s voice is raw and guttural, wrecked, when he meets Ned’s eyes.

(Normally, Tony would call him Ted or Fred or Jared or anything at all besides his real name.

The use of his real name breaks Ned’s heart all over again, because he knows why Tony uses it now; he knows why the situation is serious enough to warrant Tony’s disregard of his usual sassy routine.

He knows whose body he’s standing beside.)

:::

The thing is, all of this could have been avoided. All of this could have been prevented—if only Ned had paid attention in class, if only Peter had remembered to wear his StarkWatch to school, if only Flash had added a short disclaimer to his post, if only Peter hadn’t fallen asleep during the simulation… 

If only, if only, if only.

But none of those what-ifs happened, because this is how the story went. There is no longer any use in pondering on those niggling what-ifs. Now, one can only take refuge in the present, in reality.

And in this reality, the errors of the characters piled up one after another, leading to calamity.

:::

A short while ago…

Minutes away from Midtown High, minutes away from finding answers, Tony makes one last effort to deny the reality staring him in the face:

“FRIDAY,” he says suddenly, “check Peter’s StarkWatch, please. Pull up his vitals for me.”

FRIDAY does so, and he waits with bated breath, hoping, pleading, praying—

God has certainly never listened to his prayers before. Or if He has, He’s never cared to answer them.

God doesn't answer them now, either.

When Peter’s details load on his screen, Tony’s hope shrivels up and dies in his ribcage.

No data available, the pop-up reads, as if the watch is simply out of range or malfunctioning.

Except Tony personally built and customized Peter’s watch. He categorically knows that there is no possible way for either of those two things to happen: Tony specifically designed Peter’s watch to have unlimited range, and his technology has never failed him before.

The only way FRIDAY wouldn’t be receiving Peter’s data is if the watch has been broken beyond repair, or if…

If there is no data to receive. If Peter’s heart is no longer pumping blood through his body.

If Peter is dead.

Tony grits his teeth, swallows down the bile rising up his throat, and urges FRIDAY to fly faster. He needs answers. (He needs to know what took his kid from him.)

It feels like hours have passed—though Tony knows it’s only been a few minutes—before he finally arrives at his destination. FRIDAY brings him to a stop in front of Midtown High, and Tony’s worst fears are realized when he spots the congregation of police cars and ambulances parked outside the school gates.

Years ago, during the Battle of New York, Tony crashed through his balcony window and hurtled through the skies towards certain death. It was the first time since Iron Man’s creation that he’d been genuinely afraid of flying. Since then, Tony made sure to keep his suit either on him or accessible at all times, unwilling to face the feeling of free-falling ever again.

In that way, Iron Man is his safety net. His suit is his greatest form of protection.

Today, hovering above the scene of a car crash, Iron Man provides him no safety, no confidence. Tony looks at the assembly of emergency responders, of bystanders, and feels like falling.

(This is so much worse than the Battle of New York.)

Tony exhales shakily, activates his external speakers, and tries to hide the tremor in his voice as he demands, “Where the hell is he!?” He winces at the sound of his own voice, made gravelly by terror. “Kid? Kid!”

He hears the murmurs almost immediately, but he ignores them; he may have grown up accustomed to being in the public eye, but right now, he’d gladly give it all up to fix this. He’d gladly give up Tony Stark, give up his fame and fortune, to be able to take Peter in his arms and keep him there – safe and sound.

It isn’t until he hears his name coming from a vaguely familiar voice that he snaps to attention, eyes immediately pinpointing the source—Ned Leeds, standing in the middle of a circle of paramedics.

Tony stops cold, sucking in a sharp breath as a glacial darkness—wispy with fear and nausea—seeps into his bones, strangling him.

Because the sight that greets him as he spots Ned threatens to break Tony all over again. He immediately recognizes him, his kid’s sidekick (How many times do I have to tell you he isn’t my sidekick, Mr. Stark, Peter would whine for the thousandth time. He’s my guy-in-the-chair!), leaning over the still form of Peter fucking Parker. Tony’s eyes unwittingly catch on the spatter of blood marring the kid’s face.

Tony doesn’t want to believe it. It can’t be true.

(Peter Parker is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Meeting Peter, taking him under his wing and getting to know him—through evenings spent in the lab going over blueprints and pranking one another, through playful fights over the TV remote and movie options, through game nights and Mario Kart competitions, through mentoring and getting mentored—are all the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

This… this is the worst.)

“Oh, god, Mr. Stark,” Ned’s voice quivers with fear, with loss, and Tony chokes back a sob, letting FRIDAY operate the Iron Man suit on auto. She powers it down and opens the faceplate for him, and he’s left staring at Peter and Ned side-by-side, one kid unmoving and one trembling. Together even at the very end.

“Ned.”

Ned crumbles.

“Mr. Stark,” Ned repeats, voice hitching and then splintering, overwhelmed by blubbering cries. “P-Peter, he’s – he’s… they declared him DOA.” The abbreviation—DOA—is nothing more than a hushed murmur as it leaves Ned’s voice, punched out by the sheer devastation in his cognizance.

Tony’s next breath stutters on its way out.

DOA. To have it confirmed is a punch in the gut. It's electricity coursing through his blood, it's ice in his veins, it's a missile exploding in his face. It's almost—almost—enough to drive Tony to his knees, except… except he needs to see it for himself, before—

Before he can believe it. Believe that Peter is truly gone, that his smile will never again light up Tony’s life, that his world as he knows it has ended.

“Mr. Stark, I…” Ned flounders. He looks… so, so inexorably lost. Unable to escape this new reality that threatens to suffocate them with its terrors. Ned sniffles, convulsing. “Oh, god, Mr. Stark, I can’t—”

Ned doesn’t finish his sentence, abruptly breaking off as gasping sobs overwhelm his voice. Tony doesn’t need him to finish his sentence; Ned’s tears convey his despair better than any words could have. So Tony might not know what exactly Ned was going to say, what Ned can’t do, but Tony already knows he can’t, either.

-

Ned doesn’t finish his sentence, gasping sobs overwhelming his voice. Tony doesn’t need him to finish his sentence; Ned’s tears convey his despair better than any words could have. So Tony might not know what exactly Ned was going to say, what Ned can’t do, but Tony already knows he can’t, either.

Not when Peter’s body is just lying there. Completely, utterly motionless. 

Tony gulps down a burst of fear, approaching the pair of best friends on trembling legs, as if he’s a newborn foal struggling to stand on his own instead of Tony Stark, the man behind the most successful technology corporation to date. Eventually, he manages to find his way, coming to a stumbling halt before Peter, unblinking eyes fixated on his kid and desperately searching for answers, for any sign of life.

(Searching and praying for any sign that Peter has managed to defy all odds yet again—that he has managed to elude even the bone-chilling label of DOA.)

He finds none.

A ragged, dissonant exhale tumbles out of his lips, the puff of air floating downwards, unseen as it crashes into smooth asphalt. His gaze follows, pulled towards the ground—pulled towards Peter—by some palpable force. Peter is mere feet away from him now—close enough that Tony would be able to touch him if he were to reach out—and yet he feels miles away, as if there is a cavernous distance between them impossible to bridge. 

(If it were possible, Tony would follow Peter anywhere.)

Tony shudders. “Wake up,” he whispers into the unbearable space between them like a prayer. A wish, one that sings true, born from the deepest desires of his heart. “Please wake up. Don’t… don’t make me say goodbye to you. Please, just – just open your eyes, kid. If you’re ever going to listen to anything I say, let it be this.” 

I can’t lose you, he doesn’t say, but feels with every bone in his body. It’s true, he realizes: he can’t. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he’s truly lost Peter, only that it’ll be ugly. Please wake up.

Tony Stark does not beg for anything or anyone. 

Today, he does. Today, he sinks to his knees and presses his forehead to Peter’s and begs.

“Peter, please.”

:::

The unexpected appearance of the famed Anthony Edward Stark at a high school in Queens is cause enough for shock. The sight of that same Stark, head bowed and on his knees before one of their own? Well, that easily sends a thousand more exclamations and rumors rippling through the crowd.   

(Somewhere amidst all of these exclamations, somewhere in the thick of the crowd, Flash Thompson watches, dumbstruck, as Iron Man falls to his knees and whispers a mantra of broken pleas. Every single accusation Flash has ever made about Peter lying about his Stark Industries internship, about knowing Tony Stark, returns to the forefront of his mind. 

Parker doesn’t just know Tony Stark, he realizes, feeling queasy all of a sudden. This is… this is—

Well. Flash doesn’t think he’s ever even seen his own parents look at him like that: with such profound and unconditional love.

So, Flash thinks as the bile rises up his throat, Peter Parker has even more than I thought he did. 

And as his classmates whisper excitedly all around him, hushed murmurs of oh my god Tony Stark knows Peter Parker making the air buzz with anticipation, Flash—for the first time in a long, long time—is completely silent in the face of new rumors about Peter Parker. Now, he knows the truth. They all do. And deep down in the inner workings of his mind, he finds himself unable to look away as his world comes crashing down around him.

After all, the truth hurts.)

It is these whispers that eventually attract Tony’s attention, and he reluctantly draws away from Peter to scan the area once more. It doesn’t take long before he spots the senior standing by the hood of a police car, hands twisted and cuffed behind his back. The student stumbles backwards and blanches visibly when Tony slowly—menacingly—rises to his feet and locks eyes with him.

Tony wonders what it is the student sees in his eyes. Wonders if the student can see the fear horror guilt grief anger –

For now, Tony settles on anger. Pushes down the all-consuming anguish so that anger is all he can feel, all he allows himself to feel. His jaw shifts tensely as the rage twitches and spasms inside him, burning bright with the force of a supernova. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry (read: hurt) before. 

Tony thought he knew anger. 

He was wrong.

This – this is anger the likes of which he’s never encountered before. This anger goes far beyond the rush of explosive fury at Yinsen’s murder; the ice-cold rage he felt at Stane’s betrayal; the mix of panic, wild urgency and volatile anger that consumed him as he faced the threat Loki posed to his home; the vulnerable, vengeful and defensive outrage that exploded inside him as he watched Bucky Barnes’ fingers curl around his mother’s throat; the hurt that devoured him and turned him blind with the need to attack attack attack (read: protect himself) as Steve Rogers turned against him.

This is anger that overwhelms—the type that threatens to crush him under its weight or boil him alive. It’s an anger that froths with every inch of affection he felt for Peter, every ounce of devotion and care and love.

It’s an anger that devastates.

(His kid is gone. All he has left to hold on to now, as he struggles to keep himself above water, is this.

Giving into grief will drown him. Giving into rage? It’ll destroy him, but at least it’ll be quick.)

He’s livid, and he takes that wrath and turns it into vitriol, stalking forward like a predator with prey in its sight. 

“Y-You’re Iron Man—” the student chokes, either a last-ditch attempt to distract Tony or an unspoken plea for mercy, Tony can’t tell, but he doesn’t care. 

He growls, a heartbroken howl disguised by the red-hot flame of fury, and lunges forward, grabbing the senior by the collar of his shirt. He yanks, vicious, and drags the senior up until he can barely touch the ground with his toes.

“Was it you?” he thunders, deaf to the alarmed protests of the police officers surrounding them. The student is quiet, the air frigid and taut between them, and Tony snarls, repeating himself, “I asked you a goddamn question, asshole. Was it you who killed Peter!?”

(Do you have any idea? he wants to say. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? To Peter? To May, to Ned, to that MJ girl? To Happy, to Rhodey, to Pep?

To me?

Congratulations, asshole. You managed to bring Tony Stark to his knees. And I have no idea… I have no idea—

He has no idea how to fix himself, how to pick up the pieces and glue himself back together in the face of the wreckage of a car crash and Peter Peter Peter and blood—Peter’s. 

It feels like the world has stopped, but Tony knows reality is crueler. He knows there is no end in sight, knows the world will keep on spinning and time will keep on marching and people will keep on living.

What he doesn’t know is how. 

How? How can he possibly live on? How can he live in a world without Peter, without his kid?)

The color drains out of the student’s face. Tony doesn’t give him a chance to answer before he’s growling and drawing back a fist, white-knuckled with tension. The officers’ protests grow louder, more desperate, but Tony pays them no heed. He can’t pay attention to anything at all beyond the buzz of Peter Peter Peter beating in time with his racing pulse. 

I’ll make you pay. My kid deserved better, he thinks, knows—

His kid.

He stills.

In life, Peter had been the kindest, most gentle person he knew. Peter had been generous and considerate and immeasurably selfless. 

Peter had believed in second chances.

Tony closes his eyes in defeat, the breath leaving him in a frustrated hiss. Tony would gladly raze the world to ashes for Peter, but Peter had never been one to condone violence. Don’t fight fire with fire, the kid would say, shaking his head in something between exasperation and fondness. It’ll only burn you, too. 

(Tony would gladly burn alive if it meant Peter was safe. He’d willingly let the inferno take him if only—

If only.)

Tony lets go of the student’s shirt and pushes him away with enough force to send him staggering backwards. “Don’t think that you’ve been forgiven,” he seethes, dark and lethal. “You should be fucking grateful that my kid was ten times the person you are.”

(Peter is—was, Tony reminds himself with an ache in his chest—ten times the person Tony is. Peter has always been better than the rest of them, with his heart of gold, his tendency to care about everyone he meets, his unfailing optimism, his compassion, his peerless sense of duty and morality, his earnestness and genuineness—

He was so much better, Tony thinks. He was the very best of us, and—

And somehow, Peter had believed in him. Peter was always the first person to have faith in him, to trust him and support him. Peter had been his greatest and most ardent supporter—the kid’s confidence in him had never wavered, even when Tony’s own self-confidence did.

Despite all of his failures, despite the blood that stains his hands to this day, Peter has always seen good in him. For some unfathomable reason, Peter—who possessed more goodness in his bleeding heart than anyone else Tony knows—looked up to him.

He didn’t deserve it. He failed Peter. 

I couldn’t save him—)

The senior student falls back against the police car, violent tremors running through his body. “I don’t – I don’t understand,” Douglas Fitzpatrick whimpers pitifully. Principal Morita hadn’t told him anything about a surprise guest appearance—much less about Tony Stark being that guest. He tries to gather his thoughts, tries to process the situation as he wonders if this is all simply part of the demonstration—maybe the event organizers wanted to use the hysterical reaction of a bystander to further drive the point home and remind the students that their actions have consequences. But why Tony Stark? 

Or, better yet: how? How, when Tony Stark is unarguably the single most influential man in the entire world, thanks to both his limitless fortune as the owner of Stark Industries and his prodigious fame as Iron Man? When Tony Stark is the same tech tycoon who regularly spends his time among the fellow elite—CEOs, military generals, and world leaders alike? When Tony Stark is an Avenger—the Avenger—who reforged himself into a superhero in a dark cave in Afghanistan, right under his kidnappers’ noses?

Finally, Douglas shakes his head and backs away from the famous Avenger, closing his eyes to the sight of Actual Tony Goddamn Stark staring at him with pure hate in his eyes. This doesn’t feel like a performance. 

“What… what are you talking about? I didn’t do anything,” he insists, breaking character in an effort to escape Mr. Stark’s judgmental, recriminating gaze. Who wouldn’t break under Iron Man’s stare? “I didn’t do anything!”

His desperate protests only seem to dig him an even deeper grave. Tony’s glare darkens inexplicably. “You ‘didn’t do anything’?” he echoes, a laugh that is both hollow and hysterical forcing its way out of his throat. “You didn’t— no. No. I’m not letting you escape this, escape what you did.” I haven’t been able to escape it. Not since I found out. Not even for a second. “I was interrupted in the middle of one of the most boring board meetings I’ve ever sat through by an alert and a fucking post on social media. I had to find out through a goddamn Twitter post.” The words come out hissed, simmering with something deadly, his voice fluctuating at random points. Unstable. He certainly feels unstable, reminiscent of a ticking time bomb, as if one misstep from the handcuffed student might set him off.

Tony pauses, a niggling feeling at the back of his head reminding him of something. Something crucial. 

Tick. Tick.

Tick.

The Tweet—Tony remembers with sudden, sickening clarity, the heartless caption that had accompanied the posted obituary. 

[as if anyone would even miss parker, lol]

Renewed rage blazes in the pit of his stomach, sparking a growing fire. He’s hit with the sudden and powerful urge to revisit the Tweet that started all of this and hunt down the poster who dismissed Peter’s life with careless ease, completely unaware of how much brighter Peter made Tony’s own life. Unaware of how lucky they were, to have shared a school with the most brilliant kid Tony has ever met.

‘As if anyone would miss him’? That’s… oh, god. I would, he thinks, nauseous. I would miss him. Pete knows that, right? That I’d miss him. That I already do miss him.

Peter has to know that, or…

Tony shakes off the line of thought before the possibility of Peter not knowing, of Peter doubting how much he means to Tony, can send him into a tailspin. Instead, he focuses on the present, on the asshole currently shrinking away from him. 

Tony corrals his new, different anger into a vault for the moment. He can figure out who was cruel enough to post those words later. For now, he lets his original festering rage at the student driver solidify into lead, into poison. 

“You’re not escaping this,” Tony reiterates, unrelenting. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done.” If not in blood, then I’m at least going to make you pay in prison. I won’t stop until I do. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Douglas continues to plead his case, face scrunched up in desperation. “I – I swear. Whatever you think I did, I didn’t do it. I didn’t! I don’t know what I could’ve possibly done! We’ve never even met before, Mr. Stark.”

The name ‘Mr. Stark’ sounds wrong on this student’s tongue, twisted and tarnished. It sounds nothing like how Peter says the name, like a familiar nickname instead of a distant moniker. It feels like a glaring blemish on his memory of Peter; it feels like a betrayal. 

“Don’t,” Tony bites out. “Don’t you dare”—ruin my memory of Peter, the only thing I have left of him thanks to you—“say my name as if you have any right. I suggest you tread very carefully from now on, because as it is, I’m already looking forward to seeing you sentenced to prison forever. Piss me off again, and you won’t like what happens next.”

“Mr. Stark!” an unfamiliar voice interjects, sounding flustered and more than a little beleaguered. Tony whips around to find a middle-aged man in an off-the-rack suit and a horrendous mustard yellow tie jogging up to him, looking harried. Tony vaguely recognizes him as Peter’s principal—Morrison or Morita or something like that. “Mr. Stark, please. You’re making a scene.”

Tony’s jaw drops. ‘Making a scene’? He’s making a scene? Not for the first time today, an overwhelming torrent of emotions explodes in his chest. A staggering indignation at the realization that, at a time like this, the principal’s primary concern seems to be maintaining appearances for public perception, as though Peter is but an afterthought. A monumental, bone-shattering agony—a sort of pain bigger than bruised ribs and broken bones, sharper than shrapnel in his chest, stronger than palladium poisoning—at the thought of how hurt Peter—Peter, who holds nothing but the utmost respect for his principal and his teachers—would be to realize how little he factored into his own principal’s priorities. A reinvigorated, unquenchable thirst to ravage everyone who’s ever wronged his kid and everyone who’s ever looked the other way.

Tony snaps his jaw shut. His expression shutters, shock at the interruption turning into frost. The indignation burns low in his gut, ignorable only because Tony already has his sights set on another target. “I suggest you get the hell out of my way. This is the only warning you’ll get, so I’d advise you to make the smart move and take it,” he utters quietly, but the low volume of his voice does nothing to undermine the deterrent in it. If anything, it only makes Tony sound more dangerous, his words less of an impulsive threat and more of a solemn vow. His voice is one that guarantees retribution.

The principal—it’s definitely Morita, Tony recalls—balks noticeably. “Mr. Stark,” he starts apprehensively, his own voice hesitant as if he believes he’s approaching a wild animal that might decide to attack him at any moment. 

Tony immediately looks askance at Morita, silently exhorting the man to choose your next words with caution, and Morita gulps audibly—but decidedly continues to stand firm in front of Tony. Tony would be impressed by the principal’s courage in the face of the Avenger who singlehandedly flew a nuclear missile into a wormhole if it weren’t for the fact that his kid is still lying dead behind him and Morita doesn’t even seem to care, defending a student who doesn’t deserve it. 

Morita clears his throat anxiously. “Please refrain from threatening my students, Mr. Stark. I'm not sure what Mr. Fitzpatrick has done to earn your ire, but regardless, he is still a minor.”

A minor, Tony echoes in his mind, brimming with contempt. A minor. Tony has to fight to bite back the instinctive response that leaps to his mind: And what about Peter, huh? Another minor—one who was in your care, who was under your protection while at this school? What about him, Morita? Or does he not matter? His well-being, his life, his future?

“I don’t give a shit what ‘Mr. Fitzpatrick’ is,” he grits out, struggling to rein in the anger enough to sound measured when all he wants is to tear into Fitzpatrick. “Prison would be a mercy after what he’s done.”

Tony glances to the side to find that the student in question looks visibly nauseous, face ashen and horrified. “P-Prison?” Fitzpatrick stutters. “I don’t... I’ve never even committed a crime!” he protests, voice insistent and pleading. “I haven’t, Mr. Stark. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

The words the only misunderstanding here is why the hell you’re still seeing the light of day are on the tip of his tongue, begging to be unleashed. At the last second, however, Tony pauses, his eyes narrowing. There’s something off about this entire situation. 

It’s only when Douglas squirms uneasily, looking for a way out—looking for absolution—that it hits Tony. The student in front of him is sober, he realizes. Or at the very least, he doesn’t sound drunk; he isn’t slurring his words in the slightest. He may be stammering, but Tony can tell that’s from sheer nervousness, not inebriation. The student doesn’t even look drunk—there’s no visible flush to his neck and chest, no wild-eyed look on his face. 

Even more tellingly, Tony can’t smell the familiar, pungent stench of booze on the student’s breath. 

There is nothing to indicate that the student was recently wasted enough to accidentally crash into an innocent bystander. (Into Peter.)

(Honestly, Tony’s a little ashamed that it took him this long to notice the student’s glaring lack of insobriety, but then again, he has been a little preoccupied with the thought that he’s lost his kid, so he figures he gets a pass on not being at the top of his game just this once.)

Tony’s narrow-eyed stare sharpens. An accusatory demand—what the ever-loving fuck is going on here—is already on its way up his throat when he’s cut off before he can even open his mouth.

A familiar voice groans behind them, drowsy and fatigued. Tony freezes, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, and for a moment, everything else sounds muted to his ears as his focus zeroes in on that single brief groan.

Peter.

:::

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

[project-stormblessed]

1-50

Alrighty!

1. What color are your socks?

All of my socks are either completely black or black and gray. Lol.

2. Have you ever lied about your age? Why?

Only once when I was like, 12 or 13 making a second Youtube account lol.

3. What is something you regret in the past month?

Becoming distant and isolating myself from most of my friends. Quarantine has not been good for my mental health tbh.

4. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Honestly? Not sure. Part of me doesn’t, and part of me does. Can’t really get either part to agree one way or the other.

5. When was the last time you wrote someone a letter on paper? Definitely well over a decade ago. Honestly can’t remember.

6. How old were you when you first learned how to ride a bike? Who taught you?

I was 11 or 12, and it was my older brother Jack who taught me. He also taught me how to drive lol.

7. Do you get along with your parents? Why or why not?

We get along well enough. Now that they’re retired the house is a much calmer environment.

8. What’s your favorite season?

Spring. I love seeing everything in bloom—the colors are very pleasing to me. I love seeing lots of green, and lots of lush plantlife.

9. Do you currently like someone?

Hmm, not entirely sure about that one. I guess I don’t really have any strong feelings for anyone in particular. Maybe. 👀👀

10. Have you ever used an Ouija board?

Nope, and I don’t plan on it.

11. What’s the last song you sang?

It was a song for choir this past semester, though I don’t remember the title that well or the composer.

12. What’s your favorite scent?

Never really had a favorite scent, honestly. My sense of smell has been pretty dull/weak for as long as I can remember and I’ve never really given much thought to any favorite scent.

13. What’s your favorite urban legend?

The Roswell UFO incident of 1947. It sparked my interest in aliens and UFOs at a very young age, and is probably responsible for a good deal of my love for sci-fi.

14. What’s a bad habit that you have?

Poor self control when it comes to time management. I tend to let myself get absorbed in things.

15. What’s a strange habit that you have?

Hmm. Totally blanked and could only come up with “making noises and pretending to be a mech of some sort when moving around my house”. That’s all I got.

16. What’s the first instrument you learned to play?

Piano. I started learning at 8 years old.

17. How would you describe your ‘type’?

Y’know funny enough I’ve never really thought I had a type. However reaching my mid-twenties has made me realize that my ‘type’ is kind, compassionate, goofy, and nerdy/geeky.

18. Would you rather stay in or go out?

Depends on the company, I guess. Though, usually I prefer to stay in anyway.

19. What was the last thing you said to your mom?

“I’m taking Dax out.” When I went for a walk with my dog lol.

20. Do you want to get married someday?

Definitely didn’t used to. I’m at the point where I’d be down if my partner wanted to, though I’m not sure I’d wanna spend a shitload of money on a wedding. Guess it depends on financial status at the time and the preferences of my partner.

21. Have you ever snuck out?

Nah, though I never needed to. My parents typically let me leave house whenever I wanted to as long as I told them who I’m with and when-ish I’m going to be home.

22. Can you sing well?

I can match pitch pretty well, but I can’t produce pitch un-aided. Usually. So kinda. I’m ok at best, all things considered.

23. What’s an embarrassing thing that happened this week?

I went off on some of my friends over something kinda silly because my mental state as of late hasn’t been all that great.

24. When was the last time you went sledding?

Uhhh, definitely more than ten years ago.

25. Have you ever liked/do you like someone you know you can never be with?

You kidding me? That’s like, all of my crushes ever. Maybe that’s an exaggeration but honestly it’s certainly FELT that way each time.

26. Do people often mispronounce your name?

No, though I have known a few people throughout my life that said “Bin” rather than “Ben”. I eventually realised it was an accent thing and stopped giving a shit very early.

27. Would you like to live in another country?

Yes, actually. For no small number of reasons. I’ve always wanted to live in Italy ever since I visited when I was 15.

28. Do you like to watch ghost hunting shows?

I definitely used to. I don’t really watch tv much in general anymore, though.

29. Who was the last person you said “I love you” too?

My mom.

30. What’s something you’d like to be better at?

Social interaction. Speaking in general. I’m MUCH more articulate in writing/typing than I am speaking.

31. Have you ever stayed up with someone who was sad?

Yes, and I’m always willing to do so.

32. What was the last thing you cooked?

I helped my good friend prepare some bomb ass ramen a few months back. I guess that counts.

33. Do you think you’d make a good parent?

I’d like to think so, yeah. I would make sure my children know I’m always there for them and will support the hell out of them.

34. Do you have trouble sleeping at night?

I don’t, but my dipshit body does.

35. Where is your best friend right now?

All of them are either playing video games or asleep.

36. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

Factoring in every aspect of the morning ritual, about 40 minutes. That’s if I’m going somewhere like work or school. If I’m staying home then there’s no getting ready for anything but sitting on my ass lol.

37. How late do you usually stay up at night?

Depends on the time of year/what I’m doing the next day. Right now during quarantine I average anywhere between 2am and 6am. I’m trying to fix that currently.

38. When was the last time you cried and why?

The last time I truly cried was sometime in 2015. I was listening to Breaking Benjamin’s latest album and feeling exceedingly lonely/depressed. It wasn’t a great day.

39. Have you ever won a contest?

None that I can remember, honestly.

40. Can you draw well?

Lol. No. I have very little visual artistic talent or skill.

41. Would you ever date someone you met on tumblr/the internet?

Definitely, though obviously I wouldn’t just jump right in. I’m down for long distance relationships, too. But obviously mutual trust and emotional connection would have to be established first.

42. What was the last thing you ate?

Some brownie fudge M&Ms lol.

43. Do you think you’re/you’d make a good boyfriend?

I don’t really know. Never been in a relationship so I don’t have anything go off of. On the one hand I’m super understanding, laid back, and accepting of boundaries. I just want to make sure people feel comfortable and safe around me. On the other hand I’m also forgetful and very selfish when it comes to my time. I also obviously have plenty of emotional trauma/baggage (who doesn’t?) that tends to impede how I interact with people, so. 🤷🏼‍♂️

44. Have you ever had a near death experience?

Not that I can remember, and I hope I never do. The closest I think I ever came was when I fell off a ropeless bridge into a dry riverbed at 4 years old. Got a concussion from that.

45. What do you think people think of you?

Well, my anxiety tells me I’m annoying and boring. The logical side of me tells me most people in my life enjoy my company, so I guess there’s that.

46. What is your middle name and do you like it?

Don’t feel like sharing my middle name here, but I will say I don’t dislike it. Kinda neutral.

47. Are you close with either of your parents?

Kinda. My parents were often emotionally distant/abusive to my brothers and me growing up, and it’s left me rather stunted emotionally, and generally unwilling to establish a deeper relationship with them. We’re a bit closer than we were when I was a teenager, but honestly not much.

48. Do you like yourself?

Generally speaking? No. There are parts of me I’m proud of, but honestly I often find myself wishing I was someone else. I’m far from the self-loathing I experienced when I was younger, though.

49. State five facts about your appearance—

1. I’m 6’1”-ish.

2. Definitely just a bit chubby.

3. Blue eyes.

4. Currently sporting longer hair because I haven’t had a haircut since about September.

5. I have a number of faded scars on my arms from various self inflicted/work related injuries. All of them were caused by extreme clumsiness/poor spacial awareness.

50. State five facts about your personality—

1. I’m super goofy—I make lots of weird noises and motions.

2. I tend to ramble about things I’m interested in, particularly hyper fixations.

3. I like to think I’m a pretty compassionate human being.

4. Extremely awkward, but strangely that doesn’t show because I’m apparently a social chameleon.

5. I’m an observer, but also an overthinker.

Whew, that was a lot! Thank you, friend!

[zarfm]

» • * — ( benjamin wadsworth , cis male , he/him ) . i think i hear underdog by kasabian coming from apartment 2104. doesn’t balthazar ros live there ?? i heard they are a twenty-two year old chef from chicago , but they’ve been living in the apartments for two years . they come across a bit - wrathful and - rude , but they also seem like they could be + compassionate and + hardworking . whenever i see them , i think of denim jackets, guilty cigarettes, searching for a hug in a fist fight. oh , and don’t forget to follow them on instagram at tsar.zar ! ooc . ally, 22, she/her, est

hello y’all!!! i’ve been eying this rp for so long but have been. waiting until my mental state was Ready Enough to do it justice ! anyways, hello, my name is ally, i live in canada, i just got a job at walmart and i just learned how to french braid. those are my two biggest achievements during quarantine. anyways, this here is zar, he’s an emotional mess, please enjoy. there’s a quick novel-length introduction under the cut, but for more details, please click the following links. like for me to beg you for plots on discord !!!

full statistics. full biography. pinterest. wanted connections.

tw scars, emotional neglect, child abuse, physical abuse, 

statistics. 

full name. balthazar eduardo ros. nickname(s). zar. occupation. chef. age. twenty-two. date of birth. november 8th, 1997. nationality. american. ethnicity. mexican, iranian, english, ukrainian. orientation. bisexual/queer. gender & pronouns. cis male; he/him/his. religion. atheist.

height. 5’7”. weight. 145 lbs. eye color. brown. hair color + style. dark brown, curly, either styled haphazardly or pushed over his forehead. dominant hand. right-handed. distinguishing features. the scars on his face, that smirk, pretty boy eyes, and his plethora of tattoos.

biography. 

had a... pretty shitty childhood honestly. sure, both of his parents were wealthy, but his mother, who he lived with at first in los angeles, was not only constantly busy but also emotionally neglectful. when his nanny from basically birth to age three was fired without any notice to him, for example, he cried for days. and his mother’s solution was to only keep the same nanny for a month so zar wouldn’t get attached. 

he started to act out in school, because he, y’know, wasn’t getting any affection? and when therapy proved to be futile (meaning none of the therapists gave his mom the answer she wanted), she did the logical thing: blackmail your son’s father to taking him in or else she’d tell the whole world about their affair, and then put your six year old son on a plane to his father’s place alone without warning him or even telling him that he was going to live with his father. 

he still has nightmares about the flight attendant pulling him onto the plane while his mom walked away, impassive. no biggie. 

TO MAKE THINGS EVEN BETTER he was thrown straight into the lion’s den, living with his wealthy father and his picture-perfect family with five sons in chicago. of course, zar didn’t know that this man was his father until he was thirteen years old, but his stepmother figured it out almost immediately. and his brothers were all... spoiled brats, so she basically let them do whatever they wanted with him. i won’t get into specifics but imagine if you lived with five of your school bullies. 

it’s also around them he finally looked his mother up on facebook only to find that she was now married and pregnant with another kid. he’d been replaced. this is high-quality parenting 101, folks. 

food became... something of an important escape, for zar. he stopped eating with his family when he was about eight (it was basically a game of see how much we can abuse zar while the parents pretend he doesn’t exist), and started making his own little dinners. he associated dinners with the family meals he always saw on tv, portraying something he so yearned for; love, and family. to zar, cooking himself dinner each night became a way of practicing self-love. 

he also developed a habit of picking up strays; he fed one stray dog, she curled up in his lap and slept, and he was hooked forever. it was the most affection he’d ever received. no matter how long it took, be it hours or months, no matter how angry or antisocial the stray seemed, he’d do anything he could to win their trust. (in fact, he kind of liked the angry ones; they always turned out to be the sweetest.) 

he still acted out at school, had been diagnosed with conduct disorder and then oppositional defiant disorder. maybe he bit a psychiatrist or two who knows. and when he discovered who his father was and that everyone had been lying to him forever, well, he saw no need to hold back, now. he fought back. 

he became a bona fide Bad Boy, passed from boarding school to boarding school, expelled for a laundry list of reasons. public drunkenness, assault, sucking the housemaster’s son’s dick in the showers. his parents tried military school; he spat in his drill sergeant’s eye. 

finally, for his junior year, he was just put into public school in chicago. there, he was lucky enough to stumble upon the hospitality program, there, and fell back in love with cooking. this was the first thing in a long time he realized he could really do. sure, in an attempt to avoid his brothers he was now living in the attic, but still. life was looking up. 

with a shining letter of recommendation from his instructor and a killer portfolio, zar was able to get into the culinary institute of new york. it was during his senior year that he moved into ten 23, and he decided to stay for a while. this apartment is probably the first place he thinks of as a home. 

tl;dr abused son becomes a bad boy, learns to love via food and animals, moves to new york for school and career, 

personality. 

burnt marshmallow: smoky and crispy on the outside, ooey gooey on the inside. 

but theres a lot of smoky/crispy; he can be very rude and blunt, and he still has a hair-trigger temper. he’s working on it, though. 

honestly, he fits right in as a chef. even at the four star restaurant he works at, gideon’s, the entire cooking staff still swear like sailors. 

to keep his temper intact, he smokes (he hasn’t even tried to quit) and he also does amateur mma in his free time. 

sarcastic af. please someone tell him to shut the fuck up. 

still will stop everything if he sees a stray. the only thing that will maybe dissuade him is work, and even then he’ll show up a little late after he makes sure the dog has water. keeps cheap doggie bowls, a water bottle, and little ziplocs full of kibble on his person at all times. 

volunteers at the animal haven weekly. he still loves all the animals there. 

he also has four dogs and one cat that thinks she’s a dog. does ten 23 not allow pets? doesn’t matter. he still has illegal pets. rip his roommates. 

if he wants to make you feel better, he will cook for you. if he thinks you’re eating like shit, he will cook for you. if you’re hungry, he will cook for you. again, food is his way of showing love, and underneath it all he is a very loving person. 

vegan, but. has to handle non-vegan things as part of his job. but still a big vegan. 

horny 24/7. bi but only tops in emergencies. again, rip his roommates. 

never really had a real relationship because he. gets jealous enough as it is. is constantly paranoid that people will leave him. 

mom friend underneath it all. but like... an angry mom friend??? like he’ll nag you and tell you you shouldn’t have hooked up with your ex you basically asked for this but he’s doing this while making you cookies and peanut butter hot chocolate. 

lowkey highkey hates himself and although he pretends otherwise he has the self esteem of a thirteen year old at their first high school dance.