#i genuinely can’t remember the last time he actually said something nice to me

[merriclo]

hannskfka vent in the tags

[spicycinnabun]

pt. 1 2 3 4 6 7 💐

Eddie turned around, finding none other than the flower nazi. His nametag actually said Steve. 

He had a leaf stuck in his hair, and his nose was abnormally rosy. Going by that and his nasal tone, he clearly had a cold. He sneezed, then looked annoyed at himself for doing so. “Ugh, sorry,” he apologized. 

He was fucking adorable. It made Eddie smile. “Don’t be. I don’t really need help.” Not with flowers, anyway, just with everything else about his life. “I’m only browsing.” 

It was a weird response, he realized. A guy like him, who looked like he belonged anywhere else, loitering in a shop like this. Just browsing. Right. Steve probably thought he was a creep. 

Steve was surprised to hear that the man wasn’t looking for anything. Last time, he had bought something, so Steve had assumed he was a returning customer. He had been staring at the wedding arrangement, so maybe he was trying to figure out if Harrington Floral was the best place to get them from.

“That’s some talent you’ve got,” Eddie added, pointing to the display.

Steve felt himself flush. “Thanks,” he said softly, ducking his head bashfully. It wasn’t usually guys who were doling out compliments on the displays. Typically, they just asked for his advice on what they should buy for their significant others.

The redness that bloomed on Steve’s cheeks was just plain delightful. It could have been due to his illness, but Eddie was pretty sure it was a reaction to his compliment. His smile widened. “You made it, right?”

“Yes, I did. I make all the displays.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, missing the leaf by a mere centimeter. “I think I saw you last month when I was building one in the window over there. Are you sure you’re not interested in anything?”

Instead of answering, Eddie reached out and plucked the leaf out of Steve’s hair. “Sorry, you had a little bud-dy trying to catch a ride there. Was distracting the hell out of me.” Eddie showed him the small, curvy leaf. 

Steve laughed, which made him cough a little. After clearing his throat, he got back to business. Steve was all about closing a sale, so he pushed a little. “Are you or someone you know getting married? I can, uh…” he thought quickly, “give you a free bouquet as a testimony to how well our flowers will hold up. I was just pruning the roses before you came in. What do you think about a bouquet of them?”

Steve remembered Eddie. And he’d laughed at Eddie’s horrible pun. But Eddie was caught off guard by the questions and the offering. Steve was observant. “I can’t let you do that,” he said. “My uncle is getting married. Hopefully. He hasn’t popped the question yet.”

It would be kind of terrible of him to accept free flowers if it didn’t work out and they never ordered any.

“That’s exciting,” Steve responded.

Genuinely, he felt like it was. Steve loved love. Working in a flower shop would be hard if he was bitter about being single. Also, the fact that someone else around his age wasn’t getting married made him feel a bit better about his own love life. Lately, it seemed like all his friends were getting hitched.

Eddie twirled a piece of hair around his finger, contemplating. He pocketed the little leaf. “I’m meeting the bride-to-be tonight. I suppose making a nice first impression wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He could give the flowers to Wayne to present to Kathleen when she came over. “How much for half a dozen?”

That was probably all he could afford, but he would be paying.

Eddie wasn’t selling as much anymore. Just weed, no powders or pills. Not since he’d discovered that one of his regulars had recently overdosed on Molly. He was at least partially responsible for that. He should have questioned the steadily increasing amount the guy was buying, but he had only been thinking about the money.

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.” Steve had no intention of taking any money for the bouquet. 

He walked around the store and started building it. Steve picked out four roses in red and pink, then added two pastel-dyed Asiatic lilies and sprinkled in a few strands of baby’s breath.

When he was finished, he went to the counter to put them down. He grabbed the twine and unrolled some tissue paper. “I’m sure there won’t be any more customers tonight. I’m kind of in charge, so I can totally give you these for free. Because I want to.”

Eddie pressed his lips together briefly, walking over and planting his forearms on the counter. He wasn’t some charity case. He didn’t like having debts, either. Maybe Steve had seen the type of clothes he wore and automatically assumed Eddie was trailer park trash who couldn’t afford it.

But Steve was smiling at him, looking sweet as a goddamn sugar cookie, and Eddie relaxed, rejecting the thought. That just didn’t seem right.

(Though why Steve wanted to give anyone, let alone Eddie, free flowers was a mystery.)

“You’re the boss, huh?” Eddie said. Steve looked young to own the shop, but maybe he was one of the Harringtons.

The name rang a bell. Steve Harrington. Dustin used to talk about a Steve during D&D. Gushed more than talked, really. Was he the same one?

“Technically, it’s my mom’s shop, but I’ve been running it for a while now,” Steve said. He couldn’t take all the credit.

Eddie gently drummed the counter, rings click-clacking as he watched those nimble fingers cut, tie, and wrap. His mom’s store. Well, wasn’t that precious.

Steve gave the bouquet one last critical look and a fluff with his fingers before handing it over. “With these, I think you’ll make the best impression. Maybe your uncle will even pop the question tonight!” Steve was excited for the groom to be even though he didn’t know him.

Eddie accepted the bouquet and looked down at it. “Thank you. It’s stunning.” Kind of like you.

He didn’t say that last part out loud, though he thought it hard enough that he’d probably projected it into Steve’s head.

Steve felt his face heat again. He didn’t know why he was reacting this way to the compliments. When women complimented his arrangements, he barely blinked.

Eddie brought the bouquet to his nose to smell its perfume. It brought another smile to his face before he lowered it. If Kathleen didn’t end up liking them, she was crazy.

Steve watched Eddie, grinning. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Eddie’s gaze flickered up. He lowered the bouquet. Why were they both smiling like fucking idiots? “Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. Let me get you a card—you know, in case your uncle does propose and will need flowers from somewhere.” Steve grabbed one of the embellished business cards from the stack beside the register.  

Eddie reached out to take it, and Steve sneezed again just as their fingers brushed. It was a big sneeze that made his face screw up and nearly blew him backward. Luckily, he managed to cover his nose before he bombed Eddie. Eddie tried not to laugh at his irritated expression and soft whine as he sniffled.

Eddie pocketed the card and tugged his handkerchief out at the same time. “Here,” he offered kindly, holding it out to Steve.

It was his favorite hanky, his pirate one with the skull and bones, but it was the least he could do. 

Without thinking much about it, Steve took it and blew his nose. He let out a soft sigh, feeling a little better. Then he realized what he’d done. “Sorry…this is kinda gross now. Do you want it back?” 

“Oh no—no, that’s yours now,” Eddie said hastily. “I insist. Consider it a token of my gratitude.” He lowered himself in a teasing bow. “Farewell, Steve, fine sir.”

So, so fine. Even with all the snot.

Eddie backed out of the store, still bent over for extra theatricality. When he straightened up, Steve looked confused but was red in the cheeks again. Score.

On the ride home, Eddie almost missed a turn because he kept glancing at the bouquet.

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

[andbreakmynose]

every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own

part 1

your first date with the hot single dad you may or may not work for...

(the car! alex, single dad! alex)

WARNINGS: SMUT, feelings, age gap (reader is mid 20s), p-in-v (protected), oral (f receiving)

WORD COUNT: 5k

You hadn’t been this giddy over a man since Aiden Grant called you pretty on an Instagram post when you were 12, although you also hadn’t been with anyone like Alex fucking Turner.

Barely anyone knew you even worked for Alex; he didn’t want them to for his own privacy. You understood that, he was a private person and especially so when it came to his child. You didn’t have a problem with telling acquaintances that you worked for a rich man and not saying anything else, they usually understood. It’s never been a problem until now.

When you came home after that fateful night all giggly and smiling your roommate had more than a few questions. The alcohol in your system got you dangerously close to spilling but you came up with some lie last minute, you couldn’t remember what you said in that drunken haze but apparently it was enough to get Claire off your case.

You wanted to tell her though, you wanted to tell the world and you couldn’t. It was eating you alive that you couldn’t tell anyone that you had kissed - no, fucked - Alex Turner. Not in a bragging way, in the way that you wanted someone to tell you to calm down and slap some sense into you. You wanted to be able to ask someone for advice, to know that you weren’t making some grave mistake. It was times like these you wished that you took that advertisement in the mail for three months of free therapy.

Alex, in a sort of way, became that person. He was too busy to really talk the rest of the week, but his gentle gestures like kissing you before you left gave you enough reassurance to make it through the night without freaking out.

He felt the same way, there was this underlying fear in his bones that he really had done something terrible. It’s not that he thought he was taking advantage of you, no you’re a grown adult. But you’re the grown adult he has employed, he can’t lose that. If he worked for a company this would’ve been an HR violation. That was a bad feeling.

Waiting for Friday would be unbearable if you weren’t so damn busy. Toddlers don’t have time to accommodate for a complicated love life and it seemed that neither did Alex’s schedule. He wanted you to know that he cared and he was genuinely looking forward to having an actual date with you, but it seemed that every time he tried to start a conversation his daughter would start crying or his phone would start ringing.

It isn't until Wednesday that he actually gets you alone. He has enough time to slip home and grab lunch, and it's late enough that Ayla is already sound asleep for her nap. When he sees you sitting alone on the sofa, his heart swells. There's already something domestic about the scene: you, in his house, comfortable on his furniture. No signs of work, just relaxation—and he likes that.

“Hey. Had a few minutes to sneak out.” He sneaks into the living room, startling you slightly before you smile warmly. You can’t be upset with him, not even for a second—his presence is just too warm.

“There’s some leftover mac and cheese on the stovetop if you want it. Not exactly fine dining, but it was pretty good.” Your words make him laugh, and that feels good. He has a nice laugh, and you feel a sense of pride knowing you made it happen.

“I’ll pack some and take it back to the studio. Don’t really have much time,” he says, glancing down at his watch—probably more expensive than your car. “But I did want to talk. Y’know, about Friday.”

You nod and sit up properly, straightening your back so you don’t look lazy. He notices but doesn’t comment; it’s cute to him that you’re still trying to impress him when he already finds you so special.

“So I’ve been thinking... and talking...” He leans against the doorway, smiling. “I made a reservation at that restaurant for 6:30, and I’ve already talked to Matt. He’s more than happy to watch Ayla for the night. You know how excited she’ll be to see them.” He beams at his own productivity, clearly pleased with how he’s going above and beyond for you.

The mention of Matt confuses you. You’ve been nervous about even mentioning the situation to your sister, and yet Alex already told Matt? It makes sense, you guess—Matt understands celebrity life and knows how to keep secrets. He seems decent enough from the few times you’ve met him, but the idea still makes you feel something strange.

“Matt knows about... us?” you ask, hesitating slightly. You don’t want to seem upset—you’re not upset—but you do want clarification.

Alex picks up on your nerves instantly. It’s obvious in the way your fingers dig into your knee and your teeth worry at your lip. He shakes his head, chuckling. “Don’t worry about that. I told him an old friend is coming to town for drinks and that you weren’t available anyway.”

Damn Alex and his talent for easing your nerves. You exhale the deepest breath you’ve taken in a while. It’s all good. “Ah, okay. I was just wondering if you were telling the whole world about us,” you joke, knowing he isn’t. You needed to say something to lighten the mood, more for yourself than for him.

He laughs at your joke, and he doesn’t even need to say no—you already know he wouldn’t want to jinx things yet. He’s about to speak again when his watch buzzes, prompting a disappointed sigh. He doesn’t want to leave, he’d rather spend all day staring into your wide, pretty eyes.

“I’m excited for tomorrow, yeah? We’ll drop her off at 6:00 and then head out. I really am excited. You don’t even know.” He sounds slightly nervous, and it’s cute to see that you can make him feel that way. You don’t know what you did to deserve it.

"I’m excited too.” Your voice is warm, matching the smile on your face. You’re not entirely sure what to say, but you know just how excited you are to have something with him. His expression softens as he lifts himself from the doorframe.

“I’ll see you later, darling. Take care.” And with that, he’s gone, but you can’t blame him—you know how busy he always is. The word "darling" bounces around in your head, a reminder that this isn’t a dream. He really does like you.

Thursday night is spent stressing over what to wear. You know Alex will show up in his usual suit—one of his quirks that drives you wild—but you don’t want to overdo it. It’s just dinner, but your work clothes won’t cut it. You certainly can’t show up in sweats to a date with Alex Turner.

You settle on a dress you haven’t worn since your ex-classmates wedding to her now ex-husband. It’s not the nicest, but it will do. You have a sneaking suspicion that Alex would like you in a trash bag anyway. You roll the dress up and tuck it in your bag—no way you’re wearing it to work where it’d end up covered in marker and spit.

Friday’s anxiety convinces you that you’re doing your job horribly. You must have forgotten something or messed up because your mind is all Alex, Alex, Alex, like he’s a parasite who’s crawled into your brain.

Knowing he’ll be home around 5:30, you start getting ready at exactly 5:15. You make sure to look presentable, curling your hair and applying a layer of concealer. He’s seen you at your worst—covered in child vomit—but you still want him to see you at your best.

Right on time, he unlocks the front door, and Ayla immediately bounds over to him. He laughs, picking her up and setting her on his hip before his eyes sweep over you. You look good—you always look good—but this time, it’s something else.

He clears his throat, giving a small smile. “You look that good to me?” You don’t want to blush, but you’re sure your face is bright red. Of course, you dressed up for him.

“Nah. I dressed up to get spit on,” you joke, stepping forward and ruffling Ayla’s hair just like Alex did. He smiles at the closeness, free from the stresses of the day and surrounded by the people he cares about the most. It’s a good feeling.

He chuckles at your words, raising his eyebrows and making a quizzical face at his daughter as if she’s hiding something. She just babbles, reaching out to pull his sunglasses off and throw them on the floor. Alex shakes his head, pretending to care. You laugh, silently thanking her for letting you see Alex’s eyes again. He really does have the nicest eyes.

“Those were my nice pair, you rascal.” You’ve never heard him upset and this is no exception, even when he’s pretending to be upset he still has so much love in his voice. “Y’know I was gonna surprise ya by taking you to Uncle Matt’s for the night but it seems like you’re being a little punk tonight.” The girl immediately cries out and shakes her head, protesting just the thought of not going to Matt’s.

“Aw alright, you’re too darn cute to deny. Plus I have to do things anyways tonight.” This makes Ayla clap excitedly and make small noises, Alex giving her a smile before looking up with a wink. You secretly knew that the plans he had tonight consisted of you, and you wink right back at him. “You pack her night bag?” He asks you, it was the one thing he asked in the morning so of course you did it. You were always 10 steps ahead and he loved that.

“Mhm!” You nod and gesture to the pony-printed bag behind you. It was a gift you had gotten her for Valentine’s day earlier this year. Alex nods and walks over, daughter still in hand, to grab the bag and swing it over his shoulder. He’s signaling that it’s time to go.

You follow after him silently into his black sports car, taking Ayla from him to help buckle her into her carseat. You hop in the passenger's side and he sets the radio to the kid’s channel. Alex looks back at his daughter with a wide grin, even if he doesn’t particularly tolerate these songs he knows that it makes her happy. He starts to sing along to some song about waffles, god it’s awful but somehow his crooning makes it sound like a 1950s love song. You smile at the scene while Alex pulls out of the driveway.

That’s how the whole drive goes, it’s only about 15 minutes but all 15 of them are spent with Alex singing his heart out just to please his kid. “Is this on the new album?” You remark with a teasing grin at one song about silly snakes, Alex just laughs and reaches out to gently swat your arm.

That moment confirmed to you that your relationship with Alex had changed, not a single other person you worked with would have touched you. And Alex wasn’t just touching you sexually but he was touching you in a warm, familial way. For a second it felt just like you were old lovers and your kid, not what you really were.

It’s an easy handoff to Matt, Ayla is excited to see everyone and all you really have to do is hand off the night bag, Alex trusts them enough that he doesn’t even consider worrying for the night. When he’s sure the door is shut he takes your hand in his, leading you back to the car. You’ve come to love his hands; they were gentle and warm, yet also calloused from years of experience. They were the most Alex Turner hands you could possibly think of.

He starts the car again, making sure to shift the stereo to his personal mix of 2000s garage rock and 1960s french jazz. It was such an eclectic combination but it told you everything you needed to know about him, you felt warm as he hummed along to the words you didn’t really understand.

The restaurant was about a 30 minute drive, it was mostly silent besides the few times Alex pointed out things in the city. He showed you which venues he had played and which stores he had shopped in, he made sure to recommend the sweaters at some luxury store that you couldn’t pronounce the name of. When you told him you loved his sweaters he made a mental note to get one for you for the holidays, or to lend you one of his own.

Like he said, the restaurant is formal but cozy. It reminds you of something from Lady and the Tramp, or maybe Ayla had just made you watch that movie on repeat in the past week. He hands the keys off to the valet worker and grabs at your hand again, leading you inside.

“Turner, party of 2,” he says to the hostess with a smooth voice, looking over at you to remind you that you’re his party, his date. The hostess grabs two menus and leads you to a secluded booth in the corner. There’s a candle and roses on the table, which you didn’t notice at any others. Maybe he had done that special just for you.

He orders the two of you a glass of wine and a basket of bread, pointing out his favorite items on the menu. You decide on some fancy seafood pasta, Alex mumbling that it was a good choice.

This is your first time ever alone with Alex for a prolonged period, you’re not quite sure what to expect. He starts the conversation off easily, asking about your day and telling you about his. The endless flow of drinks and food (everytime you ask to order something he says yes - reassuring you that he couldn't care less about the price) makes it all really easy. There’s just chemistry between you and Alex.

He tells you about touring and you tell him about your childhood dog, he tells you what it’s like to be famous and you tell him about your experience in college. There’s such a difference in lifestyles but it doesn’t seem to matter at this moment, he’s completely enthralled by your life. It almost feels like you’re sharing similar experiences, he understands everything you say and is able to respond in such a damn charming way.

The food is unreasonably good, like maybe in the top five you’ve ever had. The flavors are rich and you wonder for a second how you’ll go back to fast food and microwaved dinners after this. At some point Alex decides he wants a bite from your plate so he puts his fork in it, there’s an awkward clash of arms that has you both giggling.

“You want some of mine? It’s only fair,” he asks you, a small amount of pasta sauce stuck under his bottom lip. You want to reach out and fix it but you’re too preoccupied with his words. You give a nod and he picks up his fork, grabbing a piece of chicken and bringing it to your lips. You were totally fine with getting your own bite but he had different plans, and the scene made you feel more like you were in Lady and the Tramp.

His food was also too damn good and you let out a satisfied groan, him grinning and reaching out to clean your lip. You figure since he did it you can do it too, so you take your thumb and gently wipe down his lip. It’s a quiet sort of encounter but it’s full of so much tension and unspoken words, god why was pasta sauce turning you on?

He finally removes his hand from your face and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to his side. You can tell at that moment that you’ve crossed a bridge and probably won’t be able to keep your hands off each other anymore, it’s good that there isn’t that much food left.

He keeps his arm tight against you as you eat, like he’s afraid you’ll run on him. The food doesn’t take too long to finish, at least on your behalf. It’s so good that you can’t stop filling your mouth. And when you’re done and Alex has a bit left it’s a treat that you get to watch him eat for a second, his mouth alternates between telling stories and chewing, his perfect lips always moving.

The waiter asks if you want dessert but you two were both too full, and Alex gives you a look that says he has dessert prepared for later. It’s a silent promise that reminds you of what happened last time we were together and has your heart beating faster in anticipation.

He pays the bill (you don’t even bother to look at how many figures are on there) and then takes you back to his car. His hand never leaves your back, sometimes drifting down to the curves of your ass. The valet man hands him his keys back, he tips heavily, and you’re heading back to his place. Nervous anticipation fills both of your throats.

“That was maybe the best food I’ve ever had.” You tell him as you take a seat in his car, buckling your seatbelt and smiling at him.

He nods and hums, following your actions and expression, “Glad you think so. I’m pretty fond of it myself.” He starts the car and his music begins to play again, you had heard this song before. Maybe because of him. “I really like that dress on you sweetheart, so damn gorgeous.” He breaks the silence after a minute, voice husky and smirk on his face. He did mean the sexual connotations behind his words but he also just really liked the dress, you were a gorgeous girl and seeing you dolled up for him was lovely.

“Aw thanks.” You reply, feeling your face heat up a bit. You still weren’t quite used to his compliments, he shouldn’t be saying you looked gorgeous when he looked like a damn god. He drives in silence for a second, taking occasional glances over at you with that smirk on his face.

“I have a confession to make...” he gives you a devilish grin, a small laugh trying not to escape him, “I get really touchy feely when I’m a bit drunk. But emphasis on the touchy part.” And then he laughs, he really can’t hold it in and neither can you. He has you laughing while simultaneously attempting to not pay attention to the burn between your thighs.

He smiles back at you, he loves your laugh, and then turns the stereo up a bit. He wants to get you back home and fast, this week of waiting for you has just driven him crazy. You’re able to get comfortable and let the music distract your busy mind, your eyes stay peeled to the window so you don’t notice how his hand is flexing against the steering wheel.

He leads you to the kitchen when you get home, the same place this all began. He opens the wine cabinet and starts to look, but you interrupt, “I shouldn’t drink anymore, I don’t want to be hungover at work tomorrow.” He nods and lets out a small sigh, that’s right. You were his daughter’s damn babysitter, not a girl he brought home from the bar. He has to repeat this thought as your cleavage is right in his face. “Yeah, that’s fine...”

Another second of silence fills the room, you know what he’s thinking about but is too shy to say. It’s a bit endearing how he doesn’t want to come across as too forward. “Alex... if you want to fuck me you can just say it. I can see you staring down my tits.”

He’s halfway through a drink of wine when you say this and he ends up coughing it up, he didn’t expect you to say anything. Good, maybe he wasn’t the only one being so sexually desperate here. “Right... well I think I’d like that.” He regrets saying that instantly, it sounds so stupid. He wants to fuck you with ever fiber of his being and he’s saying he “thinks” he’d like that. God he feels like an idiot.

He was still shy, and to be honest so were you. It had been a while and the first times with anyone were always scary. But you still nodded at his words and tilted your head towards his bedroom, if there was anytime nerves would be the lowest it would be now when you were both a bit tipsy.

Alex swallows and takes the lead, grabbing your hand and leading you to his bedroom. You had been there before to grab things for the kid before but this felt different, you weren’t there for your job. You were in his room and you were about to have sex with him.

Before you can finish looking around he grabs you by the waist and captures your lips in a searing kiss, too much pent up desire to wait for any longer. You’re caught off guard but still end up moaning into the kiss, Alex can only think about how he wants to hear more of those moans. Something must’ve taken hold of him because he gets the confidence to push you towards the bed, starting to work at the zipper with his long fingers.

He gets the zipper all the way down and you can barely register it before your dress is on the floor, leaving you in your underwear set. It wasn’t really the nicest but it still had Alex’s breath hitching. “Fucking gorgeous body. You know I’d return the favor from last time but I think if I’m not inside you soon I might perish and die.”Always one for the dramatics.

You give a small giggle at his words, reaching your hand out to gently palm his prominent bulge through his trousers, he hisses at just the littlest bit of contact. There’s a tangle of limbs as you try to get his clothes off and he tries to get your lingerie off, it’s awkward and messy and you almost feel like a high schooler again. Everything about Alex makes you feel like a high schooler again.

After you’re both completely undressed he joins you on the bed, pushing you back and settling on his knees. He starts to gently part your legs to look at your soaked cunt, running his middle and pointer fingers through the folds to collect your wetness. “Your cunt is pretty too, you know that? I think I’ve changed my mind, I need to taste you.”

Before you can even respond (which you probably wouldn’t have been able to respond with words anyways) his lips are attached to your sex. You let out a loud whine and attach your hand into his hair, pushing him deeper. He brings his mouth up slightly higher and his nose budges at your clit, that perfect fucking nose. It’s only been a minute and he already has you shaking and letting out endless streams of whines. He’s reveling in your taste, he thinks he could survive purely on the taste of your juices.

He develops a rhythm of licking at you, sucking at your clit, and peppering kisses along the sensitive folds. It’s intoxicating and you’re sure the words you’re saying don’t make sense, the only ones you can recognize coming out of your mouth are “Alex” and “Fuck.” He’s obsessed with your cunt but at the same time he’s hard in a way that’s making him uncomfortable, so he pulls his lips away much to your whining protest.

“Shh.. shh... sorry sweetheart. I just need to fuck you now,” he says in a voice smoother than butter. As he shifts to having his hips in between your legs your eyes meet the throbbing member in front of you. The head is red and you can see the pulsing. Yeah, it makes sense he needed to fuck you. He takes his time to line his head up with your folds, he needs that first thrust to be perfect as silly as it sounded.

After he decides on his placement he places his hands on your shoulders and starts to push himself in. It’s a stretch for you but in the best way, you hadn’t been filled by a cock in so long and now the most beautiful one was opening you up. Your tight caverns had Alex matching your groans, leaning down so he can kiss you again.

“So. Fucking. Perfect. And all mine.” He says in between kisses, starting to move his hips at a pace that has you both satisfied and begging for more. You’re his, you’re completely his. If there was any question about it before. You didn’t care that he was technically your employer anymore, at this second he was your lover and maybe the best lover you had ever had.

“Yes Alex, I’m yours. All yours,” you moan out, every thrust causing new goosebumps to arise on your arms. “Now fuck me harder, please.” You add on, causing him to laugh.

“Your wish is my command, sweetheart,” he says before picking up the pace. He starts to slam into you at a brutal pace, still littering your neck with kisses. If that wasn’t enough he starts to pinch and roll your nipples in his fingers, all the sensations making your eyes roll back. You knew your orgasm was soon, and Alex knew it too. You both wanted this too much to hold on for much longer.

Your moans start to become one constant stream of noises and his grunts start to become more guttural, the coil in your lower stomach was starting to build up and you just needed to push towards that release a bit more. He took note of this and brought his thumb from your nipple to your clit, circling it quickly like if he didn’t make you cum, he’d be executed. His own release was nearing and he could feel himself start to twitch inside of you.

“Can I cum fuck - inside?” He groans out, always the gentleman. He’s really damn turned on by the idea of cumming inside before but he’s seen what that can do before and doesn’t exactly want to deal with that again. You nod your head, you’re glad he asked but you’ve been on birth control since you were 15 for period cramps.

“On the pill!” You scream out. And it’s so embarrassing but that’s the last thing you’re able to say before the coil inside of you snaps and you’re cumming all over his cock, your walls squeezing him deliciously. He’s decided that making you cum is his new favorite thing in the world, the noises you make and the way your body is reacting drives him to his own release. With a final thrust and groan he’s leaning forward against you and emptying inside of you.

He cums a lot; you knew that from sucking him off, but now it was inside of you. And even when he pulled out, despite missing how he felt, you still felt pretty full. You were full of his remains; he likes that just as much as you. He spends a second to smile at your spent cunt leaking him before he snaps out of it.

"I'll, uh, I’ll get a towel, yeah?” He says, still catching his breath, before walking off to grab what he said. You miss him for the two minutes he’s gone, and when he returns, you feel like he’s just gotten back from war. He gently cleans your sex off and then puts the glass of water aside for you on the nightstand.

Collapsing onto the bed next to you, he pulls you into his side, placing a kiss on your temple. “That was perfect; I hope you let me do it again.” Of course you’d let him do it again; you’d let him fuck you right now if you weren’t kind of tired.

“You can fuck me whenever we both have the time; that’s my promise to you. And maybe we’ll go to that restaurant again? It was good!” He chuckles and nods, playfully ruffling your hair and placing another kiss on your head.

“I’ll take you wherever you want; you're mine now, and I mean it.” He pulls you against your side, and you know the truth to his words—you were entangled with him, whatever the implications were. You were his. And now you were about to sleep in his bed.

He wakes up before you; he knows he has to go pick up the kid from Matt's, and it’d be odd if you went too. He slips on a shirt and jeans for the day, more casual than he was used to, and lets his eyes roam over your sleeping form. Your nakedness was a reminder of everything you did that night, but your eyes closed, and the smile on your face was a reminder of the deeper meaning to it all. He couldn’t wait to explore that more.

He thought about you the entire drive to Matt's—not just how you felt under him but how you made him happy. He could’ve been embarrassed by how whipped he was this quick, but it was a long time coming. His mind drifts back to how pretty you were last New Year's when he had you take Ayla to the “family” party.

When he gets to Matt's, Ayla is beyond excited to see him, running up and pulling his leg into a hug. He hugs her back for a second and then gestures for her to walk to the car; he’s about to follow, but Matt stops him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Is there a reason you were holding hands with your babysitter last night, Alex?”

A/N: kinda hate this but i needed to get it out. title from jane eyre again <3 love dad alex

[nicofan57]

i wanted to talk about this clip so here’s my thoughts on it and the entire situation from yesterday (rest is under the cut)

(transcript:

minute: oh but why wemmbu, why, we- clown you and i were against him before, why-

clown: i didn’t like it either, okay, let me- you know why-

minute: ill tell you better- ill tell you better than anyone he’s just gonna use you and spit you out whenever it’s convenient. or whenever you’re no longer convenient for him. i know it better than anyone!

clown: i think we can handle wemmbu.

minute: he can't die!

clown: oh but he could drop- (?)

minute: he's just gonna sit tens of thousands of blocks out and wait for everyone to kill each other until he's the last one. i know this better than anyone! why didn't you talk to me?)

so first let’s dissect this clip. minute saying "i know this better than anyone" brings me back to kings s1 . they worked together to take down the other team that had the mythics and when wemmbu finally got a hold of the lifestealer (i can’t remember the exact details.. time for a rewatch) he threw minute out, saying there could only be one king. which sucks more when you think about at the start of the server, minute was open to teaming with wemmbu because he genuinely thought they were friends like he was not seeing that coming. someone warned him wemmbu is not trustworthy and he went “wemmbus my boy he wouldnt do that" (or something along those lines). and it’s like. well he did end up doing that. and minute realized he was being used all along.

fast forward to foundation when wemmbu literally said something along the lines of (again, sorry this might not be accurate) he’d team with minute because

- minute is powerful

- he has gear sets

- he would give him stuff

and most of all because he’s too kind for his own good. he wants peace even with his enemies, which we all know from the current arc right now. and wemmbu knows that all too well he knows he wouldnt refuse siding with him even considering their history on kings. anyway we all know how the abyss arc turned out for them with the orbital

so here is this clip i posted a while ago (linked here, because i cant put more than one video in a post apparently) where minute talks about how wemmbu's betrayed him a million times and how he says it hurts but he moves past it (this guy....) well clearly he’s not going to move past it now. because behind his back wemmbu has been working with zam, the person trying to break him mentally, and wemmbu’s stolen his position of power and is going to undo everything he’s worked towards. and the worst part about it is that he even convinced minutes teammates from day one to vote for him.

it’s pretty clear that wemmbu knows minute more and is able to get to him better than zam, he knows how to get into his head, he knows what actually fucks minute up, and no offense to zam because zam did end up winning… he achieved his goal by employing wemmbu! but i noticed minute isnt worried about zam that much anymore, or any of the players at all. it’s wemmbu because he knows what wemmbu can do and he knows how fucked up the server is going to be under his presidency. worst of all he knows what’s going to happen to his friends, he’s been in their shoes before, he knows they’re going to be left for dead when all is said and done, and even though they betrayed him and voted for wemmbu he still wants to save them because he knows it all too well (i think he also did say this). he still has some good left in him, even after the betrayal.

though the players are using wemmbu's presidency term to get what they want, it’s always going to end up being minute against wemmbu, it’s a cycle that ive noticed keeps repeating lately . thank you all forcoming to my ted talk

(p.s. i copied and pasted this from my twitter thread sorry if theres any weird formatting. or typos. or bad english pleabse be nice to me smiles)

[seuonji]

彡 lie again — xu minghao

๑ even though i need you every day, i push you away knowing i’m going to regret it. — lie again by seventeen

notes ๑ at prom, everyone wanted to dance with minghao but the only person he wanted to dance with, was you.

genre ๑ angst, hurt no comfort.

warnings ๑ unrequited love

word count ๑ 1.5k

from aya: this is for caratsland’s first event! for the theme seventeen songs<3

+ big thanks to my bestie that proofread + corrected any errors here cause man i struggled writing this—

★ the song lie again can be interpreted in different ways! this is the vibe i got from it!!

you walked in, fidgeting with your shoulder bag strap. every time you took a step you could feel it sink into the mildly muddy grass. the theme for prom was ethereal garden and as majestic as it sounded, you kind of wished the terrain would be more compatible with your outfit.

as you descended further into the crowd, there was a slight jitter running through your body. events like this never failed to trigger feelings of anxiety in you.

but it was prom, a special day for most.

you bobbed your head to the music and looked around, it was almost too obvious that you were looking for someone.

but that’s where he found you.

“yn?” someone held on to your shoulder catching your attention, turning, your heart swiftly raised.

this couldn’t be a healthy feeling.

you saw the man you used to treasure and you weren’t quite sure how to act.

“hao…?” you said the first thing that came to your mind. the a common nickname everyone gave him but you always swore you thought of it first.

“wow, you look stunning,” minghao pointed out, complimenting you.

“ahh, you’re too nice, thank you so much,” you smiled and tucked your hair behind your ear.

he tucked his hands in his pockets as you two stared at each other in awe.

“just got here?” you asked trying to fill the silence.

“no i’ve actually been here awhile, i helped with some of the set up.”

you nodded in acknowledgment, even complimented his work. then again, silence fell upon you two.

minghao pursed his lips and tilted his head as his eyes lingered on the floor. just three small movements yet you could tell he wanted to ask you something.

“…care to dance with me?”

you stood there frozen for a second, this was the last thing you thought you’d be doing tonight.

minghao pointed to the dance floor with his eyes as he extended one of his arms, hands ready to take yours.

in this moment, you couldn’t reject him. you softly giggled and placed your hand in his, “of course!”

he bowed as he guided you to the dance floor.

you placed your hand on his shoulder, and his found it’s way to your hip. his other hand held yours and you two danced in sync as if you practiced yesterday. to be fair, you both have done this before.

“how’ve you been doing?” you asked, genuinely curious.

though surprised with your interest, he casually answered, “i’ve been…good.” his smile seemed forced at the end but minghao had always been good at putting up a front.

“you’re still aiming for the same college as before i presume,” minghao brought up.

“of course, can’t believe you still remember that,” you chuckled softly.

“how could i forget.”

he still cared about you.

as you two continued to dance and converse simultaneously, you barely noticed the people around. they were all drawn in, amazed at the view. you two looked like a figure in a jewellery box that spun to winded up music.

there were definitely a few people whispering and gossiping that you two were dancing together.

after all, your break up was a shock to your school when news got out.

“you’re planning to go to that college overseas still?” you asked with a grin, showing you still carried the same amount of care as him.

“yeah.”

“mm, that’s crazy, it feels like it was just yesterday we were playing rock, paper, scissors to see who would pay for vending machine drinks, but now we won’t even cross paths with each other,” you sullenly remembered a memory of something you and minghao used to do.

you two spent most of your breaks together and eventually came up with that system to buy drinks for one another.

“yeah, i’ll never forget that time i won consecutively for four days so on friday you just bought it without playing the game,” he recalled your ultimate loss with a smug grin, lightening up the mood.

you leaned your head into his chest to hide your laugh, he was scared you’d feel the way his heart was beating.

suddenly, you looked at him with serious eyes, “keep in touch with me okay hao?”

minghao furrowed his eyebrows, not expecting you to want something like that but he was of course more than happy to, “you too.”

slowly, minghao felt like he could finally bring up the elephant in the room. honestly he wanted to talk about you two. it never wrapped around his head properly, so if he could just get some of your thoughts on the situation, maybe he could be more at ease.

“listen, i know things didn’t end well after—“ he cut himself off, he kept stuttering around his words. it was not an easy topic to talk about.

“yn, about us—“

it was building up until you cut him off.

immediately, reality struck him. he realised, there was no us and you being here was only temporary.

dancing with you gave him false hope.

it seemed like minghao always lost you as fast as he got you.

“oh, i found my date!” you’ve been looking for him since you got here. you loosened your grip on minghao’s hand. your eyes peered over minghao’s shoulder but just a few traces down his shoulder was his heart. there, he felt a painful ache as he saw your eyes that glimmered as you saw your new interest.

it hurt cause your eyes once used to glimmer the same way for him.

but he already let you go, why should this bother him?

“right,” minghao slowly released you from his hands. “well, i hope that whatever comes next for you it goes well, you deserve the best you know.”

you held your shoulder awkwardly as you two stood in the center of the dance floor. “thanks minghao, i’ll always treasure you.”

you left once he took in your words with a smile. an expression only you could ever unlock.

you walked away not looking back. you’ve turned back enough when you both ended things that day.

and whatever you decided that day was a mutual decision so surely, it was for the better, right?

+

“do not eat anything from the food bar. that senior, yoon jeonghan, coughed on them,” mingyu slung his arm around minghao’s shoulders and handed him a germ free drink.

“really?” the shorter friend laughed emotionlessly while taking the drink.

“he did. i watched him do it.”

mingyu nodded his head to the beat watching the crowd beside minghao who was doing the same. “anyways, did you you dance with anyone today? i actually heard a few people were planning to ask you to dance.” mingyu sparked a conversation.

“just yn,” minghao said nonchalantly.

mingyu was in the middle of taking a sip of his drink but nearly choked upon hearing your name, “seriously?”

“what’s with the reaction?”

“i mean, they’re your ex.”

minghao gently swirled his cup in his hand while his eyes were glued to her floor, “what about it?”

mingyus eyes awkwardly shifted and minghao noticed. minghao calmly answered why he chose to dance with someone he has such a past with.

with a cold sigh minghao strictly emphasised,

“i don’t like them anymore.”

mingyu was slightly taken aback, as minghao noticed, he silently reasoned making his friend know he wasn’t angry or anything.

“there was no hidden meaning. i just wanted to interact with them one last time before we go our separate ways.”

mingyu’s eyes stuck on minghao with evident concern but as the answer came, his eyes softened.

mingyu was someone that supported you and minghao through and through. he knew how much minghao liked you and he knew you shared that very same feeling.

he honestly thought you two would’ve lasted longer than any of the other couples in school.

yet you two broke up sooner than anyone else.

you both dated towards the end of your second year and ended it in the beginning of the third year. people suspected that the split occurred so that you two could focus on studies, but that was lost after there was no signs of you two getting back together.

however mingyu for one knew it must’ve ended it for good reasons.

but the thing is, you couldn’t figure out why it didn’t work out yourselves. there wasn’t even any arguments and there was nothing wrong with either of you, yet something was missing.

it only got worse when there was no longing to fix it. because how do you fix something that’s not broken?

eventually there was no better outcome than to break up. you came to the conclusion that it was just not meant to be despite wanting to be together.

in the end, you’ve been able to move on, even found someone else you wanted to experience new things with.

as for minghao, the person he wanted in that same sense, was with someone else.

and everyday minghao tries to convince himself that he does not love you anymore, and as every tomorrow draws near, he knows he’s going to lie again.

[genderfluidneurodivergent]

Phases of the Moon Pt. 1

Remus steadily eased the door to their dorm shut, returning from another one of his late-night searches through the library’s restricted area.

“Find anything interesting?” Lily asked from her seat on the couch.

“No, on either side, no way to make me feel like a girl, no way to make me look like a boy,” 

“Remus, I agreed to cover for you so you could look for ways to be you, not change who you are,” Lily said sternly.

“But if there’s a way to fix me, I should be looking for that option too, no?” There was a genuine question in his voice, but the sorrow, the years it took for him to even acknowledge himself for who he was, hid deep in the same statement. 

“Moon, you don’t need to be fixed, at all. You’re perfect just as you are, and the only goal of this search should be to make you more comfortable.”

Moony sat with that statement, letting his thoughts envelop him. 

As Lily heard someone stumbling into the corridor, she called, “Not it!” snapping Remus out of his thoughts.

She briskly retreated to her room, passing the duty of answering the door to Remus.

“C’mon Lils, I answered last time!” he called to her, eliciting only a chuckle in response. 

In the meantime, Sirius tripped his way up the stairs, disoriented and drunk.

“Prongs! Let me in, you idiot!” he hollered, banging on their door.

“Wrong room, love!” a call came through the door.

“Awww, Moony, you can let me in, can’t you? I’ll explain to McGonagall if we get caught!”

“Sirius, just go back to your own room!” Remus said sharply.

“Moons,” he drawled, “just let me in, I promise, it’ll be fine.”

Slowly, the door between them eased open, but neither of them had touched it. Remus turned around to find Lily, with her wand pointed at the door. 

“I was sick of you two yelling for everyone to hear,” Remus glared at her as she moved towards him.

“It’s time to tell him,” she whispered in his ear, heading to the kitchen.

“You trying to steal my lover, Evans?” Sirius growled, stepping into the dorm.

“Of course not, Pads, they’re all yours!” She pours herself a mug of tea and retreats to her room.

“Moons!” Sirius grinned at his lover, going in for a kiss.

Remus dodged him, resisting Sirius’ smile, no matter how impossible it was. He had different things to worry about right now, like how to tell his lover, his star, something that could change everything. 

“You should really be in your own room,” Remus groaned at Sirius, attempting to distract from the matter at hand.

“Oh, it's quite nice to see you too, Moony,” Sirius said sarcastically.

“You know that’s not what I meant, but this is the girls' dorm, and, well, how did you even get up here?”

“You know me, I have my ways, now are we gonna keep bickering, or are you going to kiss me?” 

“Did you really come here just to kiss me? At 2 am?” Sirius ignored the question, instead taking in Moony’s outfit, trailing his eyes up and down Remus, in an oversized shirt and what Sirius could only assume were boxers.

His heart skipped a beat and then sank. Who’s boxers would Moony be wearing? Why would they be wearing anyone’s boxers? Why wasn’t Moony in Sirius’ boxers? 

Sirius tried to say anything else, to answer the question, tell Moony why he was actually here, anything but ask about the boxers, but he just couldn’t. Moony was in someone else's boxers, he had to know who’s. 

“Where’d you get the boxers?” Sirius asked, the anger seeping into his gravelly pitch.

“Don’t remember, I’ve had them for a while,”  this is not how Remus had pictured this conversation.

“Has this really been going on for a while?” Sirius practically screamed, air quoting the last part.

“What?” Remus asked, his brows furrowed. 

“You know exactly what!” Sirius shouted, pacing the room.

“I really don’t!” Moony warned, anxiety building in his chest.

“Just tell me who you’re shagging!” Sirius cracked, lunging towards Remus, towering over him.

“I’m not shagging anyone- I’m really not-” Remus staggered backwards, tears streaming down his face, breath coming in shallow sobs.

“Okay, if you’re not fucking anyone, then who’s boxers are those?” 

“It’s not what you think!” Remus shouted back, his voice shaking.

“So who is it? One of the Slytherins?” he uttered the last word in disgust. 

Remus’ thoughts spun, wondering what could make his lover think such a thing.

“No, Sirius, they’re mine!” Moony yelled, seeing Sirius cock his head in confusion, he continued “They’re my boxers! Okay?”

Remus broke down in tears, blubbering. He sank to the floor, his back pressed against the counter.

Lily emerged from her room, sternly eyeing Sirius as she poured a glass of water for Moony.

“You really couldn’t have handled that any better?” she says to Sirius, handing the glass to Remus.

“Well, they’re wearing boxers! What was I supposed to think?”

“You’re supposed to trust the person you’re with and be able to discuss things in a calm manner. And, while sober, preferably.”

“I was calm and slightly sober,” he seemed to take in what he said, “that’s a lie.” 

“You should go,” Lily said quickly, before glancing at Moony, “that alright with you, love?”

Remus stayed still for a few moments before nodding.

Sirius stalks over to the door before looking back at Remus, sorrow flashes across his eyes, rapidly replaced by unease. He quickly turned around, slamming the door behind him. 

As soon as Sirius was out the door, Remus sank further into the floor, banging the back of his head on the counter.

“I just thought he’d get it, Lils! I didn’t think he’d accuse me of cheating!” he bawled, pushing his fists into his eyes. “Do I really seem like a cheater? Someone who would shag a Slytherin?” 

“Of course not, Moon. Now stop hurting yourself and come sit with me.”

Remus makes his way to the couch, tears still clouding his vision, fury shaking his palms. 

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Lily said quietly, laying a blanket on the two of them.

[fitrahgolden]

WEARY MEMORY: 3 - ONE MEMORY I CAN EASILY CONJURE

“How’s it going, mate?”

Anthony felt a slap on his shoulder and turned on his barstool. Tom had texted him the night before, asking if he fancied meeting for drinks the next evening. Anthony didn’t have the kids, or plans with Siena or his family, so drinks with a friend he didn’t see very often sounded great.

“It’s alright. You good?”

“Yeah, pretty great, actually.” Tom’s grin was as warm and inviting as ever as he settled onto the stool next to Anthony and flagged down the bartender.

It’d been a few months since they last hung out, so they spent some time checking in with each other on the usual, work, family, dating, etc. Tom seemed oddly keen to know whether or not Anthony was still seeing someone, and almost relieved to find out he was.

“Speaking of,” Anthony said as he nodded towards the bartender. “It’s cliche as hell, but there might be something there, eh? She’s checking on us a hell of a lot. Well, you. I don’t think she remembers I’m here,” he chuckled.

Tom looked over at the woman in question, who did shoot a teasing look back at him as she poured some shots. He subtly shook his head as he turned back to Anthony.

“No?” Anthony raised his eyebrows.

“Nah,” Tom waved his hand, surprising Anthony with his more serious tone when he spoke again. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something. Well, give you a heads up.”

“Everything OK?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Sorry. It’s nothing like that. It just felt like the right thing to do to let you know I’m going to ask Kate out.”

Anthony froze, his drink hovering in front of his lips. He blinked a few times before he set it down carefully.

“What?”

Tom blew out a breath. “Yeah. Of course, I’m not asking permission or anything weird like that. It didn’t feel right not mentioning it, though.”

Anthony scratched at his glass. He could feel his jaw clenching. “‘It’ being you and Kate going on a date.”

Tom answered with a shrug, irritatingly casual. “If she says yes.”

Anthony let go of his glass, genuinely concerned he may break it, his grip was so tight. What the fuck? Kate and Tom? Since fucking when?

“Have you always been interested in her?” The accusatory question came out before Anthony even realised he’d formed it in his head.

“Jesus, Anthony.” Tom tried to laugh the question off.

Anthony didn’t help him.

“Well?”

“Why does that matter? You can’t possibly be asking if something happened between us–”

“Of course I’m not bloody asking that!”

“Look, mate. I truly just wanted you to hear it from me in case she takes me up on it.”

Anthony knocked the rest of his drink back and stood. “Well, thanks for the ‘heads up’ that you’re asking my ex-wife out.”

He threw some notes down and started walking away when Tom said, “I’m sorry, but you have a girlfriend, if my hearing didn’t fail me.”

Anthony slowly turned and made his way back to Tom, stopping once he was standing just a bit too close.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean what the hell are you doing? Is this because it’s me and we’re friends, or because it’s anyone at all? You think she hasn’t dated in three years?”

“Don’t fucking–” Anthony screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he found Tom staring back at him with concern, maybe pity. Well, this is fucking embarrassing.

Anthony shook his head, turned back around, and left the bar.

—

The following Saturday, it was time to pick the kids up from Kate's. Anthony had spent the rest of the week trying to forget about his conversation with Tom–and his intense reaction to it. Because, truly, what the fuck was that?

But everything came screaming back to him as soon as Kate opened the door and Anthony saw her face–and the rest of her. 

“You look… nice.” The banal adjective meandered out of his mouth.

Anthony tried not to let his gaze linger. Honestly, he didn't need to. He knew this outfit, this hair, this perfume. He was intimately familiar with all of it. It used to be for them. For him.

“Thanks.”

Kate's smile was easygoing as she opened the door wider for Anthony to step in. It took no time at all for Kaveri to pounce on him.

“Amma's going to a party! I'm not invited. I have to go with you.”

Anthony laughed as he kissed his daughter's hair. “Aw, well. I'm sure we can find something even more fun to do.”

“Like Oxygen Acton? We have to hurry. They close in two hours.”

“Do they?” Anthony narrowed his eyes at Kate, who was laughing.

“I swear I didn't set you up. I had no idea she had a scheme going. Cheeky.” She poked their daughter in the side and the six year old squealed.

“Uh-uh. Sure,” Anthony teased before turning back to Kaveri. “I guess we're going to Oxygen Acton, then, eh?”

“Aaah! He said yes, guys!”

Cheers could be hard from further inside Kate's house. Kate raised an eyebrow at Anthony.

“Told you it wasn't me.”

“I'm gonna go finish my snack now,” Kaveri announced before blowing a raspberry into Anthony’s cheek and climbing down so she could run back into the kitchen.

“Quickly!” Kate called to the girl's retreating back before looking apologetically at Anthony. “I promise they're ready. You know how it is.”

He shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, it's fine. I'm not in a rush.” He rocked back on his heels. “So, a party, huh?” This could be a coincidence. She probably turned Tom down. 

“Well, it's actually a club, but when I explained to Kav what a club was, she decided I was going to a party.”

“I see. Makes sense.”

The question was right there, but he didn't want to ask it. He was inexplicably and irritatingly terrified of the answer being yes. He didn't want her to be offended that he even asked in the first place.

“Um… Tom told me he mentioned it to you, that, uh, he was going to ask me out.”

Fuck. 

“Oh.”

Did he also tell you I fully regressed into a caveman?

“Yeah. I know it's a bit odd–”

Anthony scoffed, and he saw the instant change in Kate's eyes, in her entire demeanour.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

She could read him too fucking well. Fine.

“Tom, Kate? Really? We’re all friends.”

“We were. We hardly see him anymore.”

“And how long have you been wanting to change that?”

It was Kate's turn to scoff. “Excuse me? What gives you the right to try to make me feel bad about this?”

Anthony took a few steps towards Kate, his feet moving unbidden. “What gives me the right? You're my–”

“I’m your what, exactly?”

She'd gotten in his face, her eyes alight with challenge, the kind of look that used to mean she was likely to soon throw herself at him. Not anymore. Anthony shook his head as he backed up.

“I'm sorry. I'm being an arsehole.”

“Yeah,” Kate almost whispered, looking mortified.

“That was out of order. I'm just… Sorry.”

“Alright.” She cleared her throat and turned away from him. “I'm going to get the kids. They've been keeping you waiting long enough.”

—

“Amma!”

Kate sat up in her bed. The thunder that followed the sharp clap she'd heard in her dream was rolling, the sound playing on top of the heavy rain hitting her windows. Her throat hurt, so she must have screamed for her mother out loud when she did so in her dream. 

Fucking thunderstorms. Go to fucking hell.

She looked over to the other side of the bed. Apparently, Tom was a heavy ass sleeper.

Good to know. I guess. She was aware it ultimately would never matter. She didn’t need to file little details like that about Tom away in her head. She didn't particularly want to.

The date went well, well enough for her to invite him home. But Kate knew before they'd even gotten to the club that night that this thing with Tom wasn't going to go anywhere substantive, was unlikely to go anywhere after tonight, even. Still, she tried.

It was the look on Anthony's face while he was unfairly questioning her about going on a date with a mutual friend of theirs. Of course, intellectually, she knew she wasn't doing anything wrong, or even dubious, really. She'd been single for three years. Tom was barely in their lives anymore.

But the look on Anthony's face… It called her out on something she'd been trying her best to ignore since she decided to try dating, since she said yes to Tom because he was a good, kind man, and he felt like he could be a safe place for her.

The look on Anthony's face said, “How could you do this to me, to us?”

It made no fucking sense. Pure ludicrousness. Anthony had a fucking girlfriend, for Christ’s sake. Kate wasn't doing anything to anyone, besides being entirely too hard on herself. 

Kate's attention turned to her phone when it started buzzing on her bedside table. Anthony, as if she summoned him with her thoughts. But she knew why he was calling, and it made her smile.

She slipped out of bed and went into her bathroom, fidgeting with her necklace, the one that held her wedding rings, the one that she was thankful Tom hadn’t commented on, despite how often his eyes fell on the rings hanging off of the chain. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, Kit.”

Kit.

“You didn't have to call.” Kate leaned over her sink, cupping her hand to drink from the tap. Truly, both of the sinks in this bathroom were hers, had been for a while, but she only ever used this one. The other one was for…guests, maybe? She never thought about it for very long. “You never have to call. You know that, right?”

“I know. How are you feeling?”

“The usual.”

“Did you dream this time?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. I'm sorry, Kit.”

Kit.

“Thanks.” Kate grabbed a pillow and blanket from the linen closet and settled into her tub.

“Do you want to talk?” Anthony offered.

On cue, thunder boomed through the house.

“Yes.”

She heard Anthony sigh heavily. “Listen, I'm so fucking sorry about earlier. I don't know what possessed me to be such a dick.”

Kate imagined it was probably the same thing that made her sure she could never give Tom a real chance at a relationship.

“Thanks. Let's forget about it. Please.”

“OK. It's forgotten.”

“Good. How was the trampoline park?”

“They fucking loved it, of course. And Kav… She's amazing. All three of them are so fucking amazing.”

“Yeah, I know. Because of or in spite of us, I'm not sure.”

“Eh. Bit of column A, bit of column B.”

The silence after their laughs died down lingered for a while.

“Oh,” Kate said, “I'm getting a dog.”

“Oh, really? The kids haven't mentioned it.”

“Well, I haven't told them yet. He's not for them, he's for me.”

“Good for you. Though, good luck keeping Maan from thinking he's his.”

“I know. He's the one I'm gonna have to keep an eye on.”

“Tell me about the dog.”

“Well, it'll be a couple of days. I have to get the house ready. But Alice called me today asking if I wanted one of her corgi's puppies and–”

“Oh, no, a corgi?”

“Yes, what of it?”

“They're just…useless.”

Kate laughed. “So? Why do I need a ‘useful’ dog? He's going to be a pet.”

“Still.”

“Anyway, I'm gonna name him Newton.”

There were a few beats of silence before Anthony said, “OK, now I know you're joking.”

“Ugh, fuck you. No puppy cuddles for you.”

“I'm one hundred percent OK with that.”

“I don't know. I think you'll regret it.”

“Oh, hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Looks like the cell has broken up. You should be good to try to go back to sleep.”

Kate looked up at the ceiling and smiled at the thought of Anthony looking at the radar for her during their call.

“Kit?”

Kit. 

“Huh?”

“You're OK, right?”

“Yeah. I'm going back to bed, I think. Thank you, Anthony.”

“You're welcome. I know you don't need–”

“No, no. Don't do that. Just… Thank you.”

Kate heard a slow, deep breath.

“You're welcome, Kit.”

Kit.

[bihanspookies]

Another brain blast from me in this random hour

Summary: The BD gang try to unwind by playing a nice game of Uno when Alora and Kabal suddenly get into it about the rules.

Alex: @chadillacboseman

Kate: @thesingularityseries

When Kate asked Alora if she wanted to join them for game night, she automatically declined because she knew just how competitive the others could be when it comes to certain games. Not to say that Alora herself wasn’t competitive but she was very strict on playing games she already knows, finding it annoying to have to learn new rules for a game she most likely would not enjoy.

When her and Taron were younger (and when she was much more open to learning) they’d play board games all the time and Alora very quickly found out which ones she liked and disliked. Games where the rules were straightforward and simple, not too complicated and not any kind that had you do ridiculous things were her cup of tea.

Uno was one that her and her family would play a lot of and Alora more or less always won because she eventually figured out a strategy in how she placed her cards down.

When Kate had quickly added that they were going to play said game, Alora stopped and actually pondered on joining. It had been a while since she’s played and honestly, it would probably do her some good to socialize for something that wasn’t job related.

“Fine.”

Kate smiled in glee and started talking about how excited she was to finally have her join, that she ‘promised promised promised’ Alora would have a good time.

Tonight’s game night party consisted of Kabal, Alex, Kano and Kate, the group just finishing a quick round of Go Fish to warm up. Alex’s face lit up when Alora took the empty seat adjacent to him, reaching out to give her a quick pat on the arm.

“Savaşçı! You’re joining tonight?” Alex grabs the Uno deck and starts shuffling when Kano reaches across and suddenly snatches it out his hands.

“You shuffle like shit, last time you somehow kept ending up with all the skips,” Kano snarks, separating the cards in half before splicing them together, tapping them hard against the table to get them even. Alex rolls his eyes but quickly turns his attention back to Alora who is already nursing a beer.

“Unfortunately. Kate ‘promised promised promised’, I’d have a good time so,” Alora shrugs and takes a sip from the bottle, looking at Kate who simply gives her a huge grin in return.

“You will! Scouts honor!” She even holds up the three finger sign and uses her free hand to make an ‘X’ over her heart. Alora gives a short laugh, shaking her head and grabbing her cards as Kano passed them out.

And for the beginning of the round she did, genuinely having a nice time (even though her expression lacked to convey it). Beer bottles clacked against each other and chips kept continuously falling onto the floor, making a salty crumby mess. Alora sat at one end of the small square table with Kate and Alex to her right, Kano to her left and Kabal straight across. It was Alora’s turn, Alex having just put down a +4 and giving her a smug look. He taps the top of card pile, sliding four cards towards her when Alora grabs her own +4 and sticks it right over his.

“The fuck are you doing, you can’t do that.”

Kabal’s voice cuts clean across the table, his eyebrows bunched together as he glances between Alora and the pile.

“Yes. I can.” She states, relaxing back in her chair and looking at Kano to see if he’d be unfortunate to pick up eight cards. Kano sighs dramatically, reaching over to start picking up when Kabal suddenly leans forward and takes Alora +4. He tosses it back to her with a scoff, sitting back down and shaking his head.

“You. Can’t. Stack.” He argues. “I may be a little buzzed right now but I can still remember the official rules of Uno.”

Alora gives Kabal a long and hard stare, maintaining eye contact as she replaces her +4 back on top of the pile. She slaps it down a little harder than necessary, narrowing her eyes at Kabal whose expression turns sour at her action.

“I’m telling you, you cannot stack a +4 on top of another +4—!!”

“You’re actually fucking stupid, it’s the rules—.”

“The fucking rules say you can’t stack!—!!”

While Alora and Kabal argued and yelled over one another, the rest of the Black Dragon watched in silence as they glanced back and forth between the two. Alex remained still as his gaze kept shifting between Alora and Kabal, wanting to interject but knowing he should wait for a moment to do so. Kate however, was joyfully watching the fight, especially when she agrees with Alora. Meanwhile Kano holds his cards in his hand, his other hovering other the grab pile and wondering whether or not he should grab even though he also was on the same side as being able to stack.

“So am I grabbing or…”

“Yes. Grab.” Alora snaps not backing down in the dispute against Kabal. By now they were both standing up, leaning towards each other with a fire burning in their eyes.

“The rules say: you cannot stack. Are you fucking thick in the head or something?” Kabal makes it point to rap his knuckles on side of his head which makes Alora rolls her eyes so painfully hard that she actually feels a faint thud in her skull. It’s usually the sign that a migraine was on its way and she’d be damned if she let Kabal of all people cause her a fucking migraine.

“Has your fucking mask been squeezing your little pea brain too hard?” Alora pinches her thumb and index finger together, her voice condescending as she snaps back at him. It was at this time that Kate interjects, bridging her fingers under her chin and looking between the two with wide eyes.

“You can stack, you guys let me do that last time.” Now it’s Alex’s turn to speak up, pulling out his phone and beginning a search.

“No Katerade, you can’t. You tried that and we told you no.” Alex gives Kate a knowing look, the half celestial crossing her arms over her chest and turning her body more towards Alex and Alora to say something but Alora beat her to it.

“You can stack +4’s and +2’s. You and you? Are playing wrong.” Alora points a painted nail at Alex and Kabal, the latter groaning in frustration as he hangs his head over the back of the chair. Kano at this point sighs and gets up from the table, going to the fridge to grab a few more beers.

“No savaşçı, look—“ Alex had found a tweet made by the official Uno account, even brightening up his phone and holding the screen up to Alora’s face for her to see.

“If someone puts down a +4 card, you must draw 4 and your turn is skipped. You can’t put down a +2 to make the next person Draw 6. We know you’ve tried it.”

Alora’s blue grey eyes narrowed as they zipped back and forth over the text, reading it over and over and over again. She lowers Alex’s hand who goes to show Kate the same thing, her own expression morphing into shock. Kano, having returned to the table and finally happy to get an official ruling, starts grabbing four more cards while Kabal sits back in his chair with a shit eating grin.

“That’s stupid!” Kate announces.

“It is stupid, why the fuck would you not be able to stack +4’s?” Alora barks, slapping the back of her hand into the palm of her as she spoke her last two words.

“+2’s go on top of +2’s and +4’s go on top of 4’s.” She adds, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah if you can stack skips why not 2’s and 4’s?” Kate chimes in, going to search in her deck to see if she had any +4’s or +2’s.

“First of all missy, you’re a god damn cheater in any game we play so you have no say. Second of all, just admit you’re wrong so we can finish this round already.” Kabal chirps in a sing song voice, cracking another beer open with the edge of the table. He grabs the cap and tosses it towards Alora, who catches it mid air and slams it down onto the table. She ignores the way the edges prick into her skin, her eye twitching ever so subtly.

“Why don’t you kiss my ass.” Alora retorts, getting ready to sit back down and bitterly accept defeat.

“I mean—“

Kabal doesn’t even get to finish the sentence before Alora lobs the bottle cap toward him. He manages to react in time and block it with his beer bottle, the cap scraping against the side and leaving thin hairline marks. Kate makes a very quiet ‘ooooo’ under her breath, nudging Alex who suppresses his own smile and picks up his cards again. Kano groans dramatically, slapping the palm of his hand repeatedly on the table to get everyone’s attention.

“Can we hurry it up? Next time we’re all playing poker! Fucking Christ…” He mutters lowly, shaking his head in disappointment at just how childish his employees could be.

“I am never playing with you all ever again.” Alora hisses lowly, finishing the last of her beer and begrudgingly grabbing four cards to add to her deck.

————

Here’s the article if anyone wants to actually read it LMFAO

[mossyscavern]

A candle to light my way, except your heart

______________________

Love, the first word that ever popped in Tom’s mind.

Dying in a puddle of his own blood, staring up at the night sky as he remembered when the exact word was used when his mother got angry at them.

“You changelings have never known love! And never will!” Is what he remembers when she said that word in their faces.

He grew to hate it whenever it’s mentioned… but he was suffering and the word was what he thought of first. “L-… love? What is… it.”

“Tom, wake up.” He heard, just as his eyes opened he saw Sam, gently shaking him awake. “Sam? What’re you-..?”

He was about to ask until he looked around the camp fire. Everyone else is asleep, even his twin is asleep. “Sorry, I had to wake you up.” Sam apologised, lighting a candle next to him when it had blown out.

Tom and his siblings told him time and time again that he doesn’t need the candle anymore, but Tom gave up after the 5th night.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Tom asked, sitting up fully and rubbing the non- existent sleep from his eyes. “Not really, nightmares are a pain.” Sam told him, stretching his limbs, then relax on the log.

“Still can’t believe you can still dream after death.” Sam added, looking at the sky sadly. “I-it’s more like phantom pain… your mind never forgets.”

Tom answered, drawing random squiggles in the dirt, remembering how bad phantom pains can get. “Really..? Explains a lot.” Sam says before going back to star gazing, one of the few interests he has that he can do that’s not limited.

Tom pauses when Sam says that, took another deep breath to calm his nerves and finally said what he wanted to ask for 90 years. “Hey Sam, do you know what love is?”

Sam’s eyes widened at the word, blinked at Tom then finally spoke. “Love... how do i answer that?” Sam says with uncertainty.

“Love is… different, in all shapes and sizes. It shrinks and stretches.” Sam says, arms wide open to show how it can stretch. “I don’t get it.” Tom responds, confused by what sam had said.

“Here’s the thing, it’s confusing. That love can be between family, a romantic partner or a special interest.. i-it never really makes sense.”

Sam answers, looking towards Tom as he fiddled with his shirt collar. “Love is a complex thing, something to observe, experience or imagine… it normally helps if you ask a person who has more experience then me.” Sam says, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly.

“… like Travis? He did say he used to date this girl-.” Tom was about to say before Sam put his hand up to stop him. “Online dates don’t count, don’t know who’s actually behind the screen until it’s too late.”

Tom oh’s at that info and nodded his head. “So… there’s no answer?” He asks a little disappointed. “I didn’t say there isn’t, it’s just… strange.”

Sam says, leaning back towards the sky again, sighs in content as he watches the stars slowly roll over. Tom doing the same thing.

“Y’know, it’s strange.” Tom turns to Sam, who turns back towards Tom and smiles. “I used to be scared of you the most, but the more i talk to you… the more I actually enjoy your company.” Sam says, smiling widely at the dark brunette.

Tom felt his face heat up when he saw how genuine and truthful he meant those words, he also actually has a really nice smile... it made his non- existent beating heart skip.

It was a shame he couldn’t feel it… he would’ve enjoyed every last minute of it. With an actual real but small smile he whole heartedly agreed with Sam.

“Yeah… I enjoy your company too.”

______________________

I realised I was doing candlebrace shipping less as I was writing for the wick fandom…

… I think it’s time I bring that back.

[constant-mason24]

The Fall of Raccoon City- Chapter Three (Leon Kennedy x Reader AU)

Leon sees some action on the job, but (Y/n) keeps getting the runaround.

Prev chapt | prologue | Next chapt

♦♣♥♠

(Y/n) felt so guilty over the fact that she could not remember this man’s name for the life of her. It was… something Payne… was that right? Wilson? She felt like it was Wilson…

Either way, the man was about the same height as her, which is to say, rather small. His thinning hair was beginning to grow the same shade of gray as his suit, and his mannerisms made him seem almost pathetic in nature. Still, the man was a well-off lawyer, and he probably hadn’t been shot in the last few months. As far as (Y/n) was concerned, he had one up on her for sure. 

The sub sandwich shop they had agreed to meet in was quiet and out of the way, making it perfect for a nice casual lunch talking about the court trial of the man who attempted to murder her to cover up his other crimes. Totally professional. 

“Thanks for meeting with me, Miss (L/n).” Payne’s voice was whiny and obnoxious, and (Y/n) wondered if he sounded like this in court. “I was hoping we could iron out these last details on your appearance at the trial.”

“Oh, well, actually,” (Y/n) has no idea how to broach this subject. At all. “I’m afraid I can’t make it to the trial.”

“What?!” The man nearly began sweating on the spot. “You’re one of our key witnesses. You took a bullet from him!”

“I know, and I’m genuinely so sorry,” She winced. “But I’m afraid I’m being called away for work.”

“You’re one of the officers on that elite force, right?” the lawyer sounded even more defeated and pathetic now. 

“Yes, the S.T.A.R.S. team.” She handed over the envelope Wesker had given her. “My captain said these should cover everything for you. Of course, if there’s anything I can do to help now, I would love to.”

Payne placed the envelope to the side, looking worse for wear. “I appreciate the offer, Miss (L/n), but if you won’t be able to attend in person, then there isn’t much I need from you that I don’t already have.”

(Y/n) nodded solemnly, feeling terrible about not being able to help him.

“I assume this goes for Mr. Redfield as well?” The man all but sighs.

“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. “I wasn’t told anything about his involvement in the trial.” 

‘He doesn’t seem to care much either,’ she thought to herself. ‘He only ever cares about the action. Never a desk jockey.’

“I’ll try to contact him.” The man mutters to himself. “I suppose that’s all I can ask of you for now, then.”

“Wait.”  (Y/n) stopped the man before he stood to leave. “I usually work on the apprehension side of the law, rather than the punishment side. I was under the impression that a court of law takes precedence over everything else. Like with jury duty and whatnot. How is possible that I was just… excused? Especially considering I’m not just any witness, but a victim!”

“It’s… difficult to explain.” The man reached out and took a napkin from the table, dabbing at his forehead as gracefully as he could when sweating bullets. He almost seemed more frantic now. “But I assure you, this is a perfectly acceptable outcome, even though it is a bit disheartening.”

(Y/n) leaned back in her seat, thoroughly disheartened by the man’s explanation of her upcoming absence- or more accurately the lack thereof. What ‘strings’ had Wesker pulled to have the key witnesses of this trial removed from the courtroom, police work or not? Something felt off about this, and about the man’s reaction to it as well. But there was nothing she could do.

“Alright. Thank you, though. Sorry to disappoint you.” 

“No need to apologize.” Payne stood now uninterrupted. “I’m sure everything will turn out right anyway.”

The man bid her farewell and left her alone at the table, looking out the window at passing traffic as she thought. 

♦♣♥♠

It was transitioning from late afternoon to evening time as Leon Kennedy and Riley Stevenson returned to the RPD. It had been a busy afternoon, and Leon now had his first full load of paperwork to do. Yay, him. 

“I feel bad for ya, rookie.” Stevenson looks over at the younger man.

“Why’s that?” He asked, stepping through the ornate front gates of the station.

“It’s your second day in the force and we’ve already put you through all this bullshit.” He huffed. “You deserve to settle in a little before facing this stuff head-on.”

“I survived the academy,” He joked. “Probably better to dive in headfirst now, anyway.”

“Maybe.” the older officer conceded as they entered the main hall. “Still, that was a lot.”

Leon just shrugged, not knowing what else to say. In truth, it was a lot, and he still felt shaken from the whole ordeal, but this was the job he signed up for. The way Leon saw it, it was better to get straight to the dirty, scary, unfun parts of the job rather than let himself settle into an unrealistic little fantasy of what the job would be. 

He turned his attention away from the cop to his right, instead looking at the people bustling throughout the whole police station. He could see a couple of officers having a conversation above him and to the left, standing around on the second-floor balcony. He wondered if they were discussing work until one of them laughed, causing him to smile softly. Everyone here seemed so friendly with each other.

He looked over to a woman scolding a young teen boy who had clearly just been reprimanded by an officer as well, probably for something dumb and rebellious, like vandalism. A man was being walked down the hall in cuffs, and judging by the interactions between him and the other policemen, it wasn’t his first time here. Countless people were filling out paperwork, having conversations, and just generally moving about the large station hall. It almost looked like a living painting, all these people going about their lives on the grand and elegant backdrop the RPD provided. It was certainly the fanciest-looking police station he’d ever seen, and in this moment that really shone through. 

He stops his dillydallying and follows his partner into the west office, seeing more officers moving about there. A few sat at their desks: Phillips and Ford among them. A couple more officers stood near the wall talking, and it looked like (Y/n) (L/n) was amongst them. She turned in his direction as he walked in and grinned at him. She walked away from the other cops, moving to lean against his desk as he met her in the middle. 

“And here comes my rookie. First day out in the field and he’s already playing hero.” She shook her head at him and he laughed. 

“I don’t know what else you all expect from me. I did agree to this when I signed up.”

“Did someone else give you crap over this too?”

“No, Stevenson just seemed apprehensive about letting me tag along.”

“We just don’t want you to jump in too fast, too soon.” She placed a hand on his elbow comfortingly, almost making him blush again. “This job will eat you up if you let it. Just ask Roberts.” She turned around to gesture at one of the men she had been speaking to earlier.

“Fuck you, (L/n).” He laughs, and she gasped. 

“Not in front of the rookie, Roberts! We want him to think we’re nice!” She turned back to Leon, a playful grin reflecting in her eyes. “Well, either way, you went out there and did it, and I think you’re a real American hero.”

Leon chuckled. 

“Well, I can’t take up all of your time, I suppose.” She stepped away from his desk. “Just wanted to double-check you didn’t take any bullets. 1/10, would not recommend.”

“Yeah. No bullets taken. I promise.” 

“Good. I’ll see ya later, rookie.”She waved at him as she left the room, and Leon sat at his desk with a sigh, glaring at the paperwork that sat on the surface. (Y/n) was really nice and really pretty.

And fuck, he thinks he’s into her.

♦♣♥♠

Entering the S.T.A.R.S. office, (Y/n) sees that the door to Wesker’s office is closed, and it looks like he and Rebecca are talking inside. Jill, Barry, and Joeseph are all at their respective desks. (Y/n) takes her own seat, booting up her computer as she sets begins rifling through the folders  sitting in her drawers. It doesn’t take long for Jill to wheel her chair over to (Y/n)’s desk, not sitting very far away in the first place. 

“Hey, you and Rebecca are coming out to lunch tomorrow, right?” She asks.

“Yeah. Are you joining us?” (Y/n) wonders if maybe Jill was the other party in the ‘we’ Rebecca had mentioned.

“Mmhmm.” The senior officer nods before turning her attention over to Barry. “Hey, you’re still going out to lunch with Chris tomorrow, yeah?”

“For sure.”  Barry smiled at her. “You girls go have your fun!”

“Thanks, Barry.” Jill smiles at him, and (Y/n) realizes she asked Burton to play babysitter for Redfield… Damn, she’s good. And whatever it is that she and Rebecca wanna tell her about must be big to make her keep Chris out of the loop. What could be the cause of such a secret meeting?

Her thoughts are disrupted as Wekser and Rebecca emerge from the office, and Wesker addresses the room of elite officers.

“I want everyone here early tomorrow morning. We’ll be briefing this new mission as soon as everyone is present. Drag Redfield in by the collar if you have to.” And then he turned and left. 

(Y/n) turned to ask Jill a question, but she was already knee-deep in her own work again.

[casbeeminestiel]

Day 3: Digital

Jack pops into Sam’s room abruptly, completely engrossed with the Nintendo Switch in his hands. Sam sits up with a yell, prompting Eileen to startle and smack him in the face with a sleepy hand. The kid seems to realize his manners a second too late and shoots a sheepish look at Sam.

“Jack, remember what I said about knocking?” Sam pinches the bridge of his nose, blearily checking the alarm clock on his nightstand to discover it’s 7:00 AM. 

Eileen raises her tousled head from where it was soundly buried in her pillow, squinting at Jack and offering him a quickly signed hello before falling right back into the blankets. Sam can’t help the smile that grows on his face despite his exhaustion. They were up late last night scheming… among other things.

“Sorry! I meant to appear in the kitchen, but I was distracted by my game.” Sam wants to be mad, he really does. But Jack is a good one.

“Maybe uh, don’t fly and game at the same time, yeah?”

Jack nods firmly. He gets that from Cas, that same cruciality with which he takes to everything. Something as silly as this is treated with the same consideration that a life or death mission is.

“What made you so distracted anyways?” Sam thinks he might as well catch up with Jack since he’s certainly not catching up on sleep anymore. Eileen on the other hand- Sam absently brushes a stray hair out of his fiance’s face and envies her ability to return to her slumber so readily.

“Oh! Well, I’m playing Animal Crossing. See?” He tilts the screen around to show Sam. “I was just fishing in the game, and I found it very peaceful. Dean and I went fishing once, remember? Anyways, I went to his room first to show him, but he and C- he was sleeping, so I tried to go to the kitchen. But then I ended up here!”

Sam bites the inside of his cheek, knowing fully well that Cas ended up in Dean’s room last night. He wants to tell Jack that his secret is not as much of a secret as he thinks, but he decides to let it slide under the radar. He still wants to let Dean take his time with this one.

For now, he settles for asking Jack more questions about his game until Eileen wakes up again and asks what’s for breakfast.

The three of them make their way to the kitchen, Jack chattering away about his adventures for the past few weeks. He’s been making the rounds with Jody, Donna, and the girls as well as Amara and Rowena. When he’s not with them, he’s been doing cool stuff like spending a day under the ocean with a pod of dolphins (he rescued a calf from a fishing net and befriended the group) or bowling with a biker gang in Baton-Rouge (“Terri-May looks scary, Sam, but she actually is very nice”).

Sam doesn’t even pretend he isn’t fascinated by Jack’s adventures. The kid just seems to make friends wherever he goes. He has that effect on people, apparently. And the way he approaches life, all genuine curiosity and an undaunted kind of love for the bizarre, reminds Sam that this is what they fought for.

He lets Eileen take over some of the conversation as he makes pancakes and coffee for them, though he still listens and offers input every now and again. He watches the two sign back and forth in glances while he stirs the batter, mentally rattling off his breakdown of breakfast the whole time.

Pumpkin pancakes for Dean, Jack, and Eileen, and banana pancakes for me and Cas. Coffee, black for Dean and I. Two sugars for Eileen. Honey for Cas. Apple juice for Jack. Bacon for everyone but me, and an extra piece for Eileen. Fruit on the side for all of us. 

Like clockwork, Dean and Cas wander into the kitchen as soon as he slides the last pancake onto a plate and spoons some sliced strawberries to the side.

“Mornin’ everybody.” Dean is more free of tension than Sam has seen him in years, loose-limbed and wrapped tightly in his beloved dead guy robe. He won’t think of the implications, but he does leave a mental note of gratitude for Cas, who looks as equally pleased with life this morning as Dean does. Their hands aren’t quite brushing, but it’s a close thing.

Cas spots Jack and makes a quick detour to hug him on his way around the table. Jack reciprocates instantly in an embrace that absolutely no one would mistake for anything other than a son hugging his father. If Sam catches Dean’s fond smile at the two of them, he doesn’t mention it.

“I missed you, Jack.”

“Missed you too.” Jack steps back and addresses Dean, “And I missed you.”

It takes all of two seconds for Dean to break. “Shit, bring it in, kiddo.”

Dean wraps his arms around Jack tight. Sam knows his brother has a complicated history with the kid, but he also knows his brother too well to think he doesn’t love Jack like family. Dean will spend the rest of his life making up for his past mistakes with the boy he considers his own. That determination to make things right is one of Dean’s best qualities.

The thought almost makes Sam forget about the corn maze retribution plan he’s hatching with Eileen. 

Almost, but not quite.

He thinks about it some more as he eats his pancakes and enjoys the casual domesticity of their makeshift family, pretending he doesn’t know Cas has a hand on Dean’s thigh beneath the table. Turns over scenarios and logistics in his mind between bites of strawberry, drinks revenge in with his coffee.

Jack’s digital mishap this morning may have given him a wonderful, horrible idea. 

Dean, he thinks, enjoy your peace and quiet now, man.

[rfallfish]

The Recollection of Matthew Turner

At one point, this was going to be in a much longer collection about children of classical gods. This is the only one I completed.

CW: Murder, Killing, Child Abuse

Word Count: 1,252

Tag List: @mr-orion @faytelumos @leytaylorjohnson

Personal Site Link: https://rainefallfish.com/stories/Turner.html

Original Venue of Publication: N/A

---------

Look, I really don’t belong here. I’m just a normal guy who likes and does normal things. I go people watching at the mall. I peaked in high school. Hell, I even work as a greeter for Walmart! And don’t try to tell me that isn’t normal, because the internet said it was.

I’m guessing there’s only one thing you want to hear from me right now. And I’m guessing that it’d be the only thing you publish even if I told about other parts of my life. Really, your entire project seems to be a way to take average, normal people like me and make them out to be freaks or something. I don’t appreciate it.

But you did offer me food, and you promised to hide me from the cops for a bit, so fine.

It’d only be right to tell you a bit about James before I talk about this. It’s really his story, after all, and he isn’t here to talk about himself. How to describe him without it sounding like an insult… Not that I’d mean to insult him. He doesn’t have ambition, drive, or anything else that would get him a gold star at work, but he’s just a nice, genuine guy, ya know? He was a good man. Please remember that.

I was supposed to meet up with him for lunch at the mall. It’s a weekly thing—lunch, a walk, and pointing out anyone interesting. The moment I stepped out of my car, though, I could feel my neck prickle and squirm. It was that sort of prickling that made you want to turn around and just look to see who was there. I didn’t, though. It took all my self control, but I kept walking as though nothing had happened. I thought maybe if I pretended nothing was happening, I would be right. But the smell. God, the smell. The moment I stepped inside, the smell of carrion scratched its way into my lungs. I could feel it as I breathed, like a rotting insect crawling into my nose and through my sinuses. I coughed and retched, and my head swirled. That’s one of my least favorite smells.

As I was wiping the last of the stomach acid onto my sleeve, someone grabbed my collar and hauled me back to my feet. Naturally, it was James. If he sees something bad happen to someone, and he’ll usually laugh a little before helping. Keeps some levity and perspective. But not when things are this bad. I think he would have driven me to the hospital, no questions asked, if I told him to; with the amount I was sweating, I at least hope so. I assured him I was okay, with the caveat that I wasn’t eating anything that day. I was sad that James didn’t seem to smell the stench, but I can’t say I was surprised. I’ve always been more sensitive than most to that sort of thing.

I got over the smell as we walked; it had just caught me off guard. Pretty soon, I was actually having a good time. James rambled on about some show of his that just got another season. I don’t remember which one, but I don’t think it was important. Had to be some comic book thing. I tried to engage, I really did, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t quite stop smelling the rot, and I couldn’t quite shake the feeling I was being watched.

We stopped at the third-floor food court so James could pick up a sandwich and I could rinse out my mouth. You’d expect a bathroom to smell bad, but you wouldn’t expect it to smell like goddamn death. It was worse than at the entrance. I was supposed to be used to it, but I could feel my saliva thickening in my mouth like warm grease. I had to lean over the sink just to know I wouldn’t get sick on my pants.

That’s when I heard my name. It was muffled, but it was there. It was like I was being called to through a thick oak door, or a very shallow grave. Then I could see the reflection of the man standing behind me. He was tall. He was skeletal. His tattered gray clothes hung limply off his atrophied frame as he swayed back and forth. He wore a gas mask over his face; its shattered eyepiece trickled blood that dripped and joined the red-brown and pale yellow stains on his coat. And I recognized him instantly.

“Fatum?” I remember saying.

He glared at me. “Don’t call your father by his name, boy.”

I felt like a kid again—cowering against the counter as my dad loomed over me. That warm, sticky smell of disease clinging onto my clothes and burrowing into my eyes, my ears, and my nose. I slumped to the ground, closed my eyes, and held my breath. Maybe he’d just go away; maybe he wouldn’t try to make me end up like him.

When I breathed in again, he really was gone. It had worked somehow. I opened my eyes and there was just some teenager giving me a funny look on his way to wash his hands. A part of me was embarrassed about the whole situation, so I pulled myself to my feet and brushed myself off in the most dignified way I could.

It could have all been a nasty episode of stress. Things happen, and sometimes our nerves get the better of us. I might have even been able to convince myself if that faint smell didn’t follow me out of the bathroom. I tried to listen to James, I was too preoccupied scanning the crowd to hear him. I only realized he said something when I saw his expectant look.

“Oh, yeah! Totally,” I said.

He shook his head. “You didn’t hear me, did you?” I couldn’t answer, so he repeated himself. “What’s wrong?”

I told him about the incident in the bathroom. I told him I thought I had seen my father. I didn’t include all the details, of course. James didn’t know my father was a god, but he knew what he had done to me. He definitely knew. That’s why I was so angry at what he said next.

“Do you think maybe you should visit your father?”

There was no way I thought that. He kept telling me that I could get some closure or something, but he should have known better. I raised my voice at him, but he just kept pressing the issue. I gave him a good push to make my point. I pushed him hard. I needed him to know I was serious. But I pushed him harder than I meant to. He stumbled towards the railing; the metal gave way under him. I didn’t push him towards the rail, and the metal was new. I swear. I really didn’t mean to. But James’s body didn’t care what I meant to do. It didn’t care about anything anymore.

Of course Fatum was standing at the far end of the floor opening. I could feel the smile on his face, and I could hear his old refrain pound in my head: “Join the family business, kid.” I don’t want to. I didn’t want to kill anyone, I don’t want to go to prison, I don’t want to die. What happens when I get to the Underworld?

Do you think James will forgive me?

[littleoldpessimistme]

20230408

So, it’s been a hot minute.

Today I wanna rant a bit about sexuality, because that’s what’s been on my mind in the last couple days. (Warning: long post)

(Also, there’s a bit about a bad relationship I had, nothing graphic, and I wouldn’t call it abusive, just some misunderstandings and hurt feelings, but let me know if I should put a tw.)

Let me just start this whole thing by saying that growing up I believed myself to be straight (I feel like it’s also worth mentioning that I come from a historically very homophobic country, I was like 13 when I first realized that queer people actually exist). I don’t remember having any crushes in my early childhood like how people say that they had crushes on cartoon characters, but by the age of 12 I discovered fandoms and I started becoming obsessed with certain actors and singers.

I don’t know if this is embarrassing or not, but I can’t say that I grew out of my celebrity obsession phase until around my late teen years. As time went on my classmates and my friends kept getting into relationships and for the life of me I could not understand why you’d wanna date our classmate Gary when he’s not Andrew Garfield. I kind of felt like an alien sometimes and not in a fun way. Looking back I do think I was a bit overdramatic (as teenagers usually are), but I did feel very isolated and I kept thinking that something was fundamentally wrong with me cause I did not like the things my peers did. 

(I did occassionally have some fleeting crushes on boys from my school, mostly on friends but those usually passed in like a week)

I remember one time (around the age of 17) I was talking to a girl from my school and the topic somehow came up and I told her that I’ve never been in love with a real person, only fictional characters or actors 20 years older than me and she kind of jokingly called me childish. Although now I realize that she most likely wasn’t trying to be mean I remember feeling really embarrassed and hurt.

Ironically a few months after this conversation one of my (at the time) best friends confessed to me and I felt like I kinda had some feelings for him as well, so we started dating. The first few months of the relationship were really nice we spent a lot of time together and I was genuinely sad when we were apart. I did feel like I was in love with him.

A few things however became apparent early on in the relationship. One of which was the simple fact that I did not want to have sex with him. We were both virgins and when I told him I’m not sure I’m ready, he said that he totally understands and he won’t force me to do anything I don’t want to do. After like 6 months we started having more and more problems. I remember one time we were having a conversation about sex, mainly that he really wanted it. I know now that it’s partly my fault for not communicating my own feelings clearly but in my defense I didn’t really understand them myself. I just knew that the thought of sex made me very uneasy and I couldn’t really imagine myself in that situation. 

One thing I could articulate was the fear of getting pregnant (which was a genuine fear of mine, but deep down I knew it was only one aspect of the whole thing) and that’s what I told him. This turned out to be a mistake because he started coming up with reasons as to why my fear was irrational and listing contraceptive methods (as if I didn’t know that condoms existed). I started crying because I couldn’t handle the amount of pressure I suddenly found myself under which made him upset and he started saying things like he thought that we could talk about stuff like this and this made me feel even worse, like I was letting him down.

Obviously I don’t want to blame him and he had his own mental health struggles. I remember he used to tell me that I was the only person in the entire world who loved him and the only happiness he ever felt was when he was with me, when we were apart he was so depressed that he couldn’t function at all. I guess he thought that this would sound romantic but it just deeply scared me.

After a year of dating I eventually broke up with him, mostly because I felt inadequate at helping him overcome his depression and ptsd and spending time with him started feeling like a chore rather than a thing that I actually enjoyed doing. While we were in the process of breaking up he told me that he regrets never sleeping with me because the hormones released during sex help build a connection and I remember feeling really weirded out about that. The whole thing was especially hard on my part because I felt like falling out of love was my fault and obviously he was upset to the point where he literally quoted Green Day’s song “Nice guys finish last” on me which to this day makes me cringe. 

I hate to admit this but I still feel kind of guilty about breaking up with him when I think about it, but I felt that it would be cruel to keep him in the dark and pretend that everything was alright when in reality I didn’t love him anymore. 

Another interesting thing is that I had my first kiss with him and to this day he’s the only person I ever kissed. I am aware that this kind of makes my judgement questionable, because I don’t have anything to compare it to, so he could just be a bad kisser but I kind of hated kissing him. I rarely initiated making out because whenever we did I felt weird. Sometimes I could tolerate it, but mostly it just felt kind of gross and it didn’t really do anything for me. I know that he noticed this, along with the fact that I never let him kiss me in public, or in front of our friends and he told me once that it bothered him that I “never acted like his girlfriend” in public. I kind of knew that this was unusal but I really couldn’t help it, I felt like I’d rather die than engage in any form of PDA because the thought just made me incredibly uncomfortable, but I knew that this wasn’t because of him, just the general idea of others seeing me like that bothered me.

And this is how we get to the sexuality part. It’s been almost 2 years since we broke up and in the last year I’ve been kind of connecting some dots and I read a lot about different identities and other people’s experiences. I still kind of say that I’m questioning, but I find that I resonate a lot with ace folks’ stories and came to the conclusion that I might be somewhere on the asexual spectrum. 

So I just started kind of accepting the fact that I may not have all the gears in the big scheme of attraction, but in the last few days I’ve been sent into a romantic attraction crisis as well. I’ve been saying to myself that it’s okay if I’m asexual, because I can still feel romantic attraction and will eventually fall in love with someone who will accept me for who I am. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic, I’ve read hoards of fanfics about my fave characters over the last like 7 years, it’s one of my favorite hobbies. But I started to realize that I don’t care much for romantic relationships in my own life.

When I think about it, I realize that I’ve always been this way. I remember my mother (oh boi I could talk about her for hours as well) telling me as a young teenager that I was too closed off, “like an ice queen” and I needed to be more approachable if I wanted boys to like me. But I don’t think I actually wanted them to like me. I only wanted to be liked by boys because I felt left out, and embarrassed that I was the only one of my friends who didn’t get a Valentine’s from a secret admirer.

One of my closest friends got engaged last summer and she’s been telling me about the wedding preparations and how she wants everything to be, and that also made me realize that I’ve never thought about what kind of wedding I’d want, not even as a child. I have two other friends who are also in committed relationships and they too talk a lot about marriage and having kids in the near future and I feel so disconnected from them.

I still meet with my old friends from high school sometimes and some of them always ask me if I have anyone I’m talking to at the moment and I always just say no, and they always look at me with pity and I don’t know how to explain to them that I’m perfectly fine this way. I’ve noticed that people seem to accept the concept of a single person longing to be in a relationship and actively putting in effort to find someone, but they simply can’t wrap their heads around the fact that someone might not want to be in a relationship at all?

Whenever I tried to explain this to people before I was always hit with “you’re too young/haven’t found the right person yet/you’ll change your mind” and these always make me question myself and feel bad about myself.

But to close this on a hopeful note I do believe that it doesn’t really matter. Right now I feel like the asexual-aromantic spectrum resonates with me and if I do turn out to be “too young to know” and I eventually “find the right one” then I’ll do that. And it’s not gonna be a big deal at all. 

So yeah, that’s about it for today. If you stumbled upon this nonsense and had the brainpower to read it congrats and thank you! And if you’re aspec and want to share your experience with me, go ahead I’d love to read it!  💜 🖤 🤍 💚

Stay rad!

[hermanunworthy]

writer anon from a couple months ago here… fuck man. it’s the day the music died.

(idk what this is and it’s not very good)

but when you go to meet god, you know, you wanna look nice

hermie’s had those dreams before, the kind where he can feel that his eyes are closed and he tries to open them while he’s asleep but he can’t. this is like that- except there’s no body attached to it. he feels out for… nothing. not even an ache over his heart, where the blood was just staining a moment ago. a year ago? he feels heavy. he’s not sure where he feels it. there’s no body anymore. there’s no him.

“well hello there, darling.” his father. he looks up. there’s no one here. scam’s voice is all around. “did you have fun?”

did you have fun? two years of high school theatre, that’s what it added up to, more or less, and then a few insane months with the teens. was it fun? he can’t remember now.

in this space, he sees it. it really was only two years. there was nothing before that. his memories of growing up are so two-dimensional, it feels like he could print them right out of his head and fold them up into a little paper person and be looking at his twin.

“it was just a joke, you know, all in good fun. oh, they’re wrapping it up now, story’s almost over. ‘that’s all, folks!’ and all that, you know. shame, we’ve only got so much time left.” scam didn’t sound sad. “I kept thinking your father would come after me at some point. it was good fun, messing with the king-of-hell demon-cop. pretty shitty guy, I gotta say.”

a scene materializes in front of hermie. a wooden stage, classic red curtains to frame it, and a styrofoam grave marker in the center. two actors bearing a comically-grotesque resemblance to his adoptive parents were badly stage-crying over it.

at the top, à-la-phantom of the opera, jodie peered down at the actors. he watched for a moment, then turned away to fix his attention on someone else.

did you have fun?

“I was wondering though. were you lying?”

hermie paused. “what?” his voice sounded strange.

“your last words to normal. he wasn’t conscious to hear them, you know. but were they genuine?” he could hear the rubber stretch of scam’s smile splitting far wider than a mouth should go. “did you mean it?”

“I can’t die,” hermie said slowly. “can I.”

“well, you weren’t exactly alive, so it’s hard for you to be dead.” scam sounded more distant now. “no place in heaven or hell for a puppet, just ask jigsaw.”

hermie’s jaw clenched. “I wasn’t a puppet. I wasn’t… anything.”

“right, so you get the point. I’m asking what you were teeing up for with that last line, hermie. obviously you won’t be around to deliver the payoff. were you just planning on ditching them without a punchline?”

“it’s what you did.”

“the ditch was the punchline, worthless, that’s the crux of the whole thing.” scam’s voice had taken on an edge. “I died once too. got shot off a dragon, actually. it was a lot like this.”

“was it?”

a pause. “I don’t remember.”

the curtains closed. somewhere, the sound of a gigantic clock started up, or maybe a metronome. “well, this has been fun, if ultimately unsatisfying, but I’m afraid this is where I must leave you. show’s over.”

“are you sure?”

“you’re the one who stopped dancing. oh.” scam was smiling again; he could hear it. “oh. I see it now, the prestige. you were the set-up for something truly… oh. wow. now this is a show.”

normal. hermie tried to take a deep breath. “what’s he doing?”

“making your whole life part of his own villain origin story. so sorry you aren’t around to see this, I know how you always liked the villains, but, well.”

“you can’t bring me back?” hermie clenched his fists. “you can’t do one thing for me, after…?”

scam scoffed. “oh, now he wants to live.”

crack! hermie was a five-year-old watching the big kids win the speedrun. crack! hermie was a cat in a garbage can being jumped by the pussywagon. crack! hermie was sitting in a car in hell, and normal was kissing his cheek. crack! hermie was a voice on the phone, hermie was saying “this is john.” crack! hermie was the dying papa john, hot cheese coursing through his veins. crack! hermie was dying, hermie was lying on the ground with blood spilling from his…

“your father and I were similar in one regard, actually. when our lives were threatened, when there was only one way to be free, we took it. we split, you could say, we…” scam hesitated. hermie thought about a demon and a highway patrol officer, a mustache and a fedora. “sometimes you get a card. sometimes you get a court order. but you always get a choice. you don’t get to be yourself. that’s what the world taught both of us. no matter your power, your influence, if the world doesn’t want you to be yourself, and you still want to live, well…”

he saw the joker, keira knightley, risky click, a whole parade of shifting faces flickering between his reflection and his performances. he heard his words to normal in goof’s realm- you don’t like me, you idiot.

“do you want to live? you never get to go back, you know, not to what you were. even if you’re able to reconcile the memories, once you’ve been something you never fully stop being it. and that saves you a little, the first you, but it’ll damn you just as surely.

“unless.” one giant eye in front of hermie. “was there anyone, hermie? anyone who wanted you to be yourself?”

what did he honestly believe, about what normal wanted?

he didn’t know if his last words were a lie. he didn’t know if his next ones would be either.

do you want to live?

IM SO SORRY FOR LEAVING U HANGING FOR A WHILE WRITER ANON IVE BEEN AT WORK BUT IM BACK. I WOULD SAY WE ARE SO BACK BUT NO ITS SO OAKWOVER. HERMAN UNWOVER.

I AM INSANE ABOUT THIS DO U UNDERSTAND HOW CRAZY THIS IS TO DROP IN MY INBOX. THIS IS SO WELL DONE IM GONNA EXPLODE THE FUCKING. AAUAUAUAGAHHHH

[straight4joekeery]

Teach Me How To Love In Your Own Lyrics

(Part five)

(TWS ⚠️: mentions homophobia and domestic violence; If you want to skip I’ll put blue dots before and after the scene. I’m sorry if there’s any other areas I missed that talk about this!)

Prev. Part one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So he dumped me! Get this! He said ‘is it that time of the month?’ Like he’s so wrong for that! I mean… he wasn’t literally wrong. But still. As a woman I feel attacked. Steve? Are you even listening?” See? Steve doesn’t lie. Very. Annoying.

“Yeah. That’s crazy.”

“What’s your problem today?”

“… nothing”

“Oh. My. God. Steve get over it. It’s been a month! Why would you even want to be friends with him? He killed Chrissy,” (OH NO SHE DIDN’T), “I think he should be behind bars,” (SHE DID), “he disappears for like a week and comes back with a brand new apartment. I don’t know Steve I think it’s kinda messed up-”

“JULIE,” The entire diner went silent. He waved and apologized to the workers before continuing a little quieter, “genuine question. Do you ever shut up?”

“I-“

“Let me finish,” she actually closed her mouth for once what a shock! “It’s not against the law for me to have a friend that I actually care for. You act like I can’t know people besides you. Plus to be honest, I’ve never even liked you. For one, you over share EVERYTHING. Yeah, sorry, news flash I could not care less about your dear dear Bradley boy and wether or not he loves you. And also I’m allowed to have opinions that differ from yours. You don’t have to argue about EVERYTHING. If I said ‘oh hey Julie look at the pretty blue sky’ you’d come up with a six page essay on how the sky isn’t BLUE.”

“You done?”

“Oh I could say more if you’d like,” he grinned. When she said nothing he went to continue his beautifully presented speech.

“Pass,” she interrupted, “I’m sorry Steve. I really am. But it’s not my fault you cannot form a sentence where the subject isn’t Eddie. You’d think you’re in love with him,” (OH REALLY??) the last words rang in his ears. He scoffed as he took the last sip of his shake. He aggressively stood up and thanked the waiter.

“Oh and thank you for paying Julie!” He smiled as he ran out the door. He jumped in the car and laughed. Laughed until he couldn’t breathe. He wondered where all this rage came from. Then he remembered that he promised himself to never yell at anyone…

• Suddenly he’s ten again. His dad had told him something stupid that Steve quite frankly didn’t agree with. He didn’t even yell at him he just said softly that he has a different opinion. But oh no. Richard wasn’t too happy about it. He yelled at Steve until he lost his voice. When he did he had to use the only other form of punishment he knew. He hit Steve. Once. Twice. Seven times. But no. That wasn’t enough. He grabbed Steve by the hair and slammed him into the wall. That’s how he got concussion number 1 (and 2,4, and 5). If you ask anyone else he knew at the time he fell of his bike (Which was believable considering that’s how he got the third one). He remembered going to school the next day and Tommy laughing at him because oh Steve, you’re so stupid. Oh. Tommy.

Now he’s back to age 14. There were two kids in his grade named Cory and Danny. They were both super nice kids. Got good grades, never did anything wrong. But one day Tommy wasn’t to fond of how close they were sitting at lunch. So as usual, he said something. Called them… the word. Now I mean sure, Steve wasn’t the nicest and called Johnathan a queer once. But that? He’d never do that. That’s way too far. He told Tommy to stop. He just pushed him away and said, “or what? Are you a little fairy too?” •

Thinking back on it so what? So what if he was gay? There’s nothing wrong with that. And yeah Julie, so what if he is in love with Eddie…Wait. Pause. What? He had to think for a hot second about that one. He thinks about Nancy and what it felt like to be in love with her. And yeah it’s a lot different actually, but not in the way he thinks. He thought about how he actually felt about Nance he loved her but no… the longer he thought about it the more he realized. He thought about Robin, and how yeah he obviously loves her too. In the same way he loved Nance.

But that’s like saying their whole relationship was a lie so no. He loved her. But… He was hyperventilating at this point. Okay well he’s obviously not gay because he hooked up with like 10 girls a month a while back. He did it in hopes for just the right girl. He hoped it ‘feel different’ with her. Different. Oh.

But he guessed that it doesn’t matter anyways, because Eddie doesn’t like Steve back. Right?

He had to stop thinking about it because he’s been sitting in the car for a while now and he can see Julie inside standing up finally. He pulls out of the parking lot and cranks down the window. Just breathing in the summer air. He makes it about half way home before he realizes that he drove Julie to the diner. Oops.

He turns on the radio. He still hasn’t changed the tape since the airport. He has to admit. This kind of music is growing on him. It’s loud he’ll give it that, but the more he listens the more he actually hears the lyrics. And they’re actually good. Like really good. He pulls up to his house and sits in the car for a bit longer. Just listening.

Once the tape is over he gets out. He unlocks the door and jumps onto the couch. He sees the copy of The Lord of the Rings that Dustin had gotten him after forcing him to watch the movies. He almost cried (but then he thought about his dads stupid words) when he got it. Mostly because it’s probably the best gift he’s ever gotten. But partly because he couldn’t read. After concussion number 13 (12? 14? He didn’t know. I wonder why he couldn’t remember!) he was never able to. The words blend together and make no sense anymore. Every time he picks up a book he gets an instant migraine. (Oh yeah because he gets those too now.) He picks it up anyway. He opens it and… yeah. “Pointless,” He sighed.

It’s the weekend for gods sake, and he just discovered the that his life was a lie (he honestly wasn’t even mad about it. He was happy. It felt like a 50 pound brick just got taken off his shoulder). He should be doing something fun. So he gets up and looks around. He could put on a movie. But then again he’s seen them all about 20 times since Eddie left. Yep he’s got nothing. He could… yeah nope absolutely nothing. He glanced towards the phone and shrugs. He dials the only number he has memorized.

“Hello?”

“Hey Vick!”

“Steve! How are you?”

“I’m good! Really good actually. Uh random question.”

“Hm?”

“Are you and Robin working today? Or just over the weekend in general?”

“I mean we are supposed to be but we can always just close up the shop. Why what’s up.”

“You guys want to go out for a drink? I’ll drive up there.”

Steve could practically here her smiling over the phone. She sighed, “I’ll go inform the wife,” she giggled.

“Thanks Vick, you’re the best.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. When will you head up here?”

“…now?”

She laughed, “yeah okay. See you in a bit!”

“Bye,” he put the phone back on the wall. He walked to his room to find a good outfit.

He put on his skinny jeans because in Eddie’s exact words, “they are very…Flattering?” He searched for a good shirt. Thankfully he expanded from his polo collection. He accidentally pushed a shirt off of its hanger and he couldn’t just leave it on the ground like a normal person because that would ruin “the image”. He picks it up and looks at it. It was a Nirvana shirt Eddie had bought him saying that, “this band will slowly ease you into metal. Grungey but surprisingly good.” He didn’t think they were to bad. He threw on the shirt for fun. It looked alright so he decided to stick with it. Plus it was actually very comfy. He went to walk out of his room when he saw it. Why did he still have it? It’s been seven years. But there it is in the corner of his room. The stupid battle vest. He thought he gave it back to Eddie. He picked it up and went to hang it up when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. I mean. He might as well. He threw on the jacket and… he looked good. Really good. He wondered why he never wore it before. He definitely pulled it off. He ran to the bathroom and grabbed the makeup bag he kept for when Robin came over (he swears it’s for Robin and Robin only). Go big or go home right? He pulled out three things: lipgloss (WHICH HE HAS NEVER USED AND IS ROBINS AND NOT HIS), mascara (WHICH HE HAS ALSO NEVER USED), and eyeliner. (Which he actually hadn’t ever used) He started with the lipgloss. Yep looks good like normal Wow Steve! He should have done this sooner. He put on the eyeliner. He had done this so many times on Robin it was practically muscle memory and… woah. It was… different to say the least. Then he put on the slightest bit of mascara on and checked himself out… for 5 minutes. He actually liked what he saw. He decided it was definitely time to go so he jumped in the car and drove up to his second home. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next

EEEEEE. YOU GO STEVE. Baddie era fr (I’ll never say that again I swear. Dw it pained me too). I feel kinda bad just giving him piles of trauma. This one’s gooooodddd tho. Sorry if it’s short, it was originally supposed to be combined with the next one but I’m hoping that one will be kinda long. Am I projecting Nirvana onto him? Yes. Ofc. Nirvana is great and deserves more attention in fics. I am stressing a lot over this. I have a post up on my page that like gives updates and spoilers and stuff. So I was saying how I stopped reading my English book for this. Oops. I also don’t even have another chapter written after this so it’s gonna be a fun little weekend project! Also crazy to think I’m most likely half way done. Anyways now the stuff no one cares about. Comment or reblog if you want to be tagged. (I am not being aggressive when I capitalize this I just need people to see it.) MAKE SURE YOU HAVE YOUR TAGS ON GUYS!! Here’s the tag list!: @asbealthgn , @queerbeansworld , @bird-with-pencils , @vecnuthy , @artiststarme , @captain-winter-wolf-aehs , @piningapple @rowendyss @steve-themom-harrington @lfaewrites @azreadytodie @thequeenrainacorn @pastel-dreamscape @importanttimemachinenerd @jehneeg @swagaliciousmarie @mightbeasleep @krazyperson @milkshakeflower @fando-random @bumblebeecuttlefishes @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

I am going to cry I just found a much easier way to tag people. ⬇️⬇️

[asparklethatisblue]

“You were right, actually,” he said, as Crawley cracked open her eye and raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“About what?”

“About teaching someone something entirely new and life changing,” Aziraphale quipped.

He grinned as Crawley groaned and smacked his chest, grumbling about insufferable angels. 

“You think too highly of yourself,” Crawley muttered, but her lips were quirking in a smile. 

At that moment footsteps sounded from outside the chamber, and before either angel or demon could do something several humans entered. One of them was carrying a lantern, which illuminated the room just enough to provide a perfect view of the rumpled clothes, the very obvious signs of rigorous sexual activity, and a newcomer to town wrapped around their most holy woman inside a sacred temple. It really couldn’t look any worse than that.

“Uh oh-” Aziraphale let out, trying to come up with an explanation as he saw the scandalized faces in front of them.

Then Crawley snapped her fingers and they were outside, high on a mountain cliff overlooking the early sunrise painting the temple below golden. 

Their clothes were scattered about them as well, so Aziraphale grabbed his robes and hastily pulled them against his chest. Crawley seemed to have no issue with modesty. She stretched languidly and yawned, before finger combing her hair into a presentable state with another miracle. Only then did she start dressing herself, not even bothering to clean up. 

“That was a rather rude awakening,” Aziraphale said, feeling like his mind was free from a lustful intoxicated daze for the first time in daze. “Those poor humans will think rather badly of me, I’m afraid.”

“At least half of them had fantasies about their dear holy Pythia,” Crawley responded, finally dressed and grinning down at Aziraphale, who couldn’t bring himself to put on his own clothes. For that he’d very briefly would have to expose himself again, and by the light of day he worried about this now. 

“I’ve made it so that they caught us but saw us escape through a side door before anyone could catch us. That’ll do it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’ve ruined your reputation with them now,” Aziraphale said, feeling genuinely remorseful. “You must have enjoyed being at the temple if you stayed for so long.”

“Ah, that’s alright,” Crawley shrugged. “Was about time I set out wandering again. Besides, I can’t very well be a Pythia anymore.”

“Whyever not?” Aziraphale asked, blinking up at his demon. She’d cut a rather striking figure after all. 

Crawley’s grin grew sharp, her cheeks’ flush belying her attempts at bravado. 

“Because only virgins can speak prophecies at the oracle.”

With that Crawley winked and turned around with a wave. 

“See you around, angel.”

Aziraphale watched her disappear into the trees, his entire face flaming hot. He waited until the demon was truly gone to put on his clothes, and threw one last look at the temple below. 

That was an experience. And the first prophecy he’d ever heard, even spoken in jest, had turned out to be true. Perhaps prophecies were something to look into, after all. Might very well to lead more pleasant encounters with a certain demon if he was lucky.

lmao that. I barely remember the inspiration but to tell the truth? I was playing a shit ton of Assassin’s Creed Odyssey and I really loved the visuals of Delphi, the idea of oracles and all that, the view from the mountain down onto the temple… say what you will about AC, but they know how to make scenery look nice. The prompt was Prophecy if I remember right, so of course my mind sprang to the oracles of Antiquity. I liked the idea of Crowley pretending to be a holy woman serving a false god (in the eyes of Heaven and Hell) and spreading mischief via prophecies. So many myths involve misinterpreted prophecies as the source of so much evil after all. So here we had her predict that Aziraphale would teach someone something new and life changing. What that is is up to you 😌

(also Aziraphale first encounters the idea of prophecy here, and thinks its quite fun, hence his later collection)