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yikesharringrove · 3 years

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Show Pony

Chapter 3: Roses Are Falling

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Steve’s hand was sweaty in Billy’s as he pulled him through the crowds in the fairground, ducking and weaving between the people milling about.

Billy let himself be dragged, staring at Steve’s ass in his little denim shorts.

It had been one week since their date at the diner.

A week of Billy showing up to the rodeo, watching Steve compete in his event, and making out with him behind the arena.

It was fun, sneaking around together in the blazing summer heat.

He had even brought Max a few times, letting her wander around with some chick her own age she met. Apparently, her dad works at the rodeo or someshit. Billy wasn’t listening when she explained. Steve had been across the arena, taking off his flannel shirt and trading it for another one of his slutty little crop tops.

It was a gorgeous show.

But Max was somewhere eating her body weight in funnel cake while Steve took him into a tent labeled Employees Only.

There was an eclectic group of people sitting at the long tables in the tent, all greeting Steve as he pulled Billy through to a group of younger people sitting together at the end of one of the tables.

Steve pushed Billy onto one of the benches, perching right on his lap like that was totally fine. Like it was easy for Billy to just. Keep his dick in check.

The girl sitting across from them sighed heavily, raising one eyebrow at Steve.

“Shut up, Robin.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she was still giving Steve a very pointed look.

“You don’t have to.” Steve slumped back against Billy’s chest, no doubt petulant.

She shook her head, finally addressing Billy.

“I’m Robin.”

“She does barrel racing,” Steve leaned back, muttering the information into Billy’s ear. His breath was hot against Billy’s skin, and Billy had to fight down a shiver that crept up his spine despite the blazing heat.

Another girl was sitting next to Robin, a pretty brunette with doe eyes to rival Steve’s. She seemed vaguely familiar.

And then it clicked.

“Aren’t you in the pageants?”

She laughed softly.

“My name’s Heather. And yes, I’m reigning Miss Rodeo USA, so I’ve been with these guys and will be until the next girl is crowned. It’s been a good time.” She glanced over at Robin, bumping their shoulders together. Billy raised one eyebrow at Robin, catching her eye and making her flush slightly. He shot her a quick wink.

Steve shifted in his lap, putting one arm over Billy’s shoulders, winding his fingers through his little ponytail.

“So, Billy,” Robin tried to move the conversation along, rolling her shoulders back. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope.”

“Nah, just, I feel like I know you quite well know. Like, really well. Like better than I ever wanted to know a guy-”

“Okay, yeah, Robin. We get it. Thanks.” Steve squirmed slightly in Billy’s lap, the back of his neck and the tips of his ears a bright red color. It was cute. Billy didn’t realize when Steve’s cheeks went all pink, that, other, places of him flushed too. He wondered how far down that rosy tint on Steve’s cheeks went. If it was all over his chest, if it leads down to his-

Nope. Not going there right now. Not when Steve is sitting on Billy’s lap, and they’re in fucking public. Absolutely not. No thanks. Billy’s fine.

Robin squinted at him, and he tried to keep his face as blank as possible.

Steve sighed heavily through his nose, shaking his head.

“I’m getting a pop. Anyone else?”

Robin waved him off, and he was gone with a roll of his eyes.

“So, you’re the poor San Diego bastard. My condolences.”

Billy squinted at her.

“Not sure what you mean.”

She took a deep breath, looking at Heather briefly.

“Look. You know this little fling is just that. A little fling. Steve, he kinda, does this. Finds someone in every place we’re stationed, and has a month-long something with them. He loves attention but he’s too scared of commitment to do anything else. And honestly, I’m saying this all for your sake, because I’ve seen people get attached. He’s gonna eat you alive, and then he’s gonna leave, and it’s easier for you if you know that going in.”

Robin’s words settled like a fucking pit in Billy’s stomach.

Because, yeah. He, like, kinda figured that. He knew their time was limited. Knew that Steve would slip through his fingers. And really, that was fine. Billy thinks he’d be the exact same way if the roles were reversed, that he would be constantly moving from one person to the next, never getting lonely, but never getting deep, either.

He understands the whole commitment-phobe thing. Kinda takes one to know one.

So he gets it.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like shit to have it put. So plainly.

“I’m sorry. That was probably too harsh but, you seem like a nice guy, and Steve doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s not trying to hurt people, he just, definitely uses the whole traveling rodeo thing to his advantage.”

“Nah, I get it. Really, I kinda figured it out. He said he likes to make friends wherever they are. So, it’s fine. And I think sometimes harsh can be alright.” He doesn’t wanna make Steve’s friend feel bad.

And really, he did know what they were doing and what this was about. It just sucks having it confirmed by someone else. And put. So plainly.

“I’m really not trying to be mean. I just kinda wanted to prepare you. If this is gonna be something that hurts, maybe it’s best to get out now.” Robin had very pretty blue eyes and freckles all over her face. She seemed warm, and the way she was staring at him was with so much concern.

“Thank you. I get it, honest. I’d probably act just the same if I were him.”

“If you were who?” Steve had returned, slapping a can of root beer on the table in front of them, taking a seat pressed as close as possible to Billy, lifting up his arm to slide underneath it.

“Quit being nosy.” Robin reached out to muss up Steve’s hair, poking him in the forehead. “What are you two doing today?”

Steve shrugged, taking the bait and moving on.

“Wander the grounds. Maybe hang out at my place.” Billy’s interest piqued. He had no idea Steve had a place. “Might sneak out and go for a drive or something. You got any preference?” Steve leaned over the table, resting his elbows on top, placing his face in his hands, turning to look at Billy.

“We could kick around here. I gotta drive Max home later so we should probably stick around.” Steve grinned at him.

“Well, c’mon then. You’ve got plenty to see around here.”

Billy felt like Steve has already dragged through the entire grounds, he doesn’t know how there’s more to see.

But it turned out there’s a lot more. Because Steve’s place, as it turns out, is one in a huge crowd of trailers.

It was kinda out of Billy’s wildest imagination. Like what he’d picture an old-school traveling circus to be like.

People were milling around everywhere, Steve saying hi to almost everyone they passed. Animals were being led to and from the large arena and the makeshift paddocks that were set up in the open grass.

It was like nowhere Billy’s ever been before.

Steve led him through the maze of trailers to a smaller version of an old school Airstream near the back of the lot, still hitched up to the back of a much larger, and very nice-looking, RV.

Stevie Harrington was painted in curling dark green letters on the rounded metal door, a little cow munching on some grass painted below it.

“That your art?”

Steve snorted.

“ God, no. Robin did it for me a few years ago. That’s why it looks good.”

The hinges on the door squealed when he pulled it open and led Billy inside.

It was hot in the airstream, and Steve turned on the solar power to get a small fan moving air through the place, propping open the door and the tiny window above the table.

“Home sweet traveling home.”

“Damn. This ain’t too bad of a setup.”

It really wasn’t. Sure, it was small, but it was perfect for one person. A tiny kitchenette faced the minuscule bathroom. The far sides of the trailer were taken up by a dining area, a table with booth-like seating, and a queen-sized bed taking up the opposite side, a small closet smushed between the bed and the kitchen.

It was immaculately clean, not totally what Billy had expected from Steve. The bed was made, an old-looking, worn-out stuffed horse placed neatly in front of the pillows.

There were pictures pinned up on little string light clothespins on the wall the bed was shoved against, and Steve even had a few posters over the booth seats.

“It’s kinda nice. I saved up for a while to buy it. It’s kind of a lot being trapped in an RV with your parents, let me tell you. I’m still hooked up to theirs, and when we move I ride with them, usually, but at least I’ve got some space to myself.” Steve looked down at his feet. “Plus, I kinda figured, this is about as close as I’ll ever come to living on my own.”

“I really do like it. You’ve made it real nice in here.”

Steve looked back up to him, smiling proudly.

“We don’t have to like, hang out in here. I just thought I’d welcome you in. To like, say, you know, if you’re ever around but don’t wanna hang out doing the same rodeo shit all the time, we could, like, spend some time in here.” Steve’s cheeks were going red.

And Billy was fairly certain he knew where this was going.

So he took the metaphorical bull by the horns, and wrapped his fingers in Steve’s literal belt loops, and pulled him close enough that their lips could touch.

And apparently, Billy was right. Because Steve kissed him back immediately, and fervently, sliding his arms over Billy’s shoulders and pressing into him enough to move Billy back a few steps until his knees hit the bed, and he fell to sit on it.

Steve wasted no time climbing on his lap, kneeling straddling Billy, pressed together as close as possible.

Steve broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily and Billy attached himself to Steve’s neck, leaving wet kisses in his path down the long column of his throat.

“God, fuck. Can we-”

“ Yeah. Yeah, Baby,” Billy was breathless as he replied, getting both hands under Steve’s ass and flipping their position in one fluid motion, getting Steve on his back, his legs wrapped around Billy’s waist.

“Get the door.”

Billy pressed a long sucking kiss to Steve’s neck before pulling away, slamming the door closed as Steve drew the blinds on the window above the bed and turned on the air conditioning unit in the ceiling.

“It’s gonna get super fucking hot in here if we fuck.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Steve laughed at Billy, rolling back to lay properly on the bed, taking his stuffed horse and tossing it on the table behind Billy.

“I don’t want her to have to see this.”

“Fine by me.” Billy was back on him in a second, pushing his hands up Steve’s shirt, yanking it off him as fast as possible.

Steve was so fucking gorgeous.

He had a light tan all over his body, with definite paler parts where his shirts usually sit.

And he was fit. His muscles weren’t as bulky as Billy’s, but he was obviously strong.

Billy leaned over him, tasting the salt on his skin as Steve began fumbling with the buttons of Billy’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders so roughly one of the shoulder seams groaned, threatening to rip.

Billy took that as his cue to pull away from Steve again, shedding his shirt and kicking off his shoes, helping Steve out of his little short shorts.

He was wearing this excellent pair of boots, deep red with white embroidered stitching covering the boot.

Steve leaned forward, moving to pull off the boots.

“Wait, no. Leave ‘em on.”

Steve looked at him.

“You call me a hick all the fuckin’ time, and now you’re here saying you wanna fuck me in my boots.”

“It’s hot. You’re like the chick from Footloose .”

“Aren’t you gay?”

“Hot is hot, Steve.”

Steve huffed a laugh, putting his leg back down, letting Billy settle between both of them.

“So, are we gonna talk about the girl in an eighties movie, or are you going to fuck me through this mattress?”

“Alright, bossy. You got lube?”

Steve huffed, poking Billy’s chest until he moved off him.

Steve sat up, crawling to the end of the bed, digging through the laundry in the hamper for the bottle of lube.

Billy stared at him.

Mostly, he was just staring at his asshole. It was so perfect and pink, and looked buttery and soft.

And Jesus, he really just wanted to lick it, to get his face buried between Steve’s cheeks and go to town on the pretty pink furl of muscle.

And, well, what’s stopping him?

Absolutely nothing.

He got up, following Steve’s path until he was behind him, taking each cheek in one hand.

Steve froze where he was digging through the laundry, Billy’s breath puffing between his cheeks.

“What are you-”

And then Billy licked up his crack, his tongue dragging all the way up from his balls, flicking once against his hole.

“ Billy .” Steve spread his legs, pushing his hips back into Billy’s face, wordlessly asking for more.

So Billy gave it to him.

He opened his mouth, licking all around his rim, pressing his tongue just slightly inside, sucking on the soft pink flesh, making Steve’s breath hitch and whines pour out of his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re good at that.”

Billy responded by pulling back, and spitting on Steve’s hole.

Steve was taken by surprise, if his soft gasp was anything to go by. He dropped his head against the bed, biting onto the blanket.

Billy just kept going, using his lips and tongue and teeth, opening him up and getting him wet.

“Fuck, Billy, please just fuck me. I want you so bad .” Steve’s voice was pitchy and breathy, muffled in the blanket.

He was grinding his hips forward and back, pressing himself against Billy’s tongue.

Like he wanted nothing more than he wanted Billy’s tongue in his ass right then.

And Billy certainly wasn’t complaining, not at how fucking nice and soft his asshole was against his tongue, how he tasted kinda clean and kinda musky at the same time. It was heady and Billy would happily spend the rest of his stupid life with his face buried between Steve’s cheeks.

Something smacked against the top of Billy’s head, and he pulled away briefly to find a bottle of lube on the bed, the one that Steve had no doubt tossed over his shoulder and accidentally accosted Billy with.

“That fuckin’ hit me in the head, you piece a’ shit.”

“I don’t care,” Steve whined, pushing his hips back even further, spreading himself out more and more for Billy to hungrily take in. “Just finger me and fuck me !”

“Bossy.”

Steve huffed, shifting his head around until he could look back at Billy, his brows pinched in a little scowl, giving Billy a dirty look that was equal parts adorable pout and sexy scowl. He looked like the grumpiest little slut.

And Billy indulged him, squeezing out a big glob of lube, meticulously coating his first two fingers with it.

“I know what I like, and I get what I like.”

“Jesus, I thought all them girls were the rodeo queens. Not you .”

“I’m the queen of getting my fucking way. Now for the love of God, put your fingers in me.”

And Billy couldn’t do anything but indulge him.

He began with just one finger, sliding it slowly and deliberately down to the last knuckle.

Steve sighed as Billy’s finger entered him, relaxing his upper body into the bed, somehow canting his hips up even more, his back arched as much as Billy’s ever fuckin’ seen.

So Billy took a chance, pumping his finger in and out a few times, pulling it nearly all the way out, only to replace it with both fingers. He moved slowly, simply fucking Steve with his fingers for a moment, watching Steve as he crooked his fingers downward.

And Steve moaned, and it was like he became a puddle. All his muscles relaxing and unwinding as Billy curled his fingers, pressing deeply against his prostate, rubbing tiny circles into the small bundle of nerves.

“God, Bill. That feels so fucking good,” Steve said through a throaty moan. Billy was slowly moving his fingers in and out of Steve, pressing down into that wonderful spot each time he was buried all the way to the knuckle. “Add another. Please, I want you in me.”

Billy had to palm himself to relieve some of the pressure of his own dick, flushed red and oh so painful where it was hard against his stomach.

But he did as Steve told him to do, drawing out his two fingers to press in a third.

There was something of a shift in the sticky airstream. As those three thick fingers sank into Steve, it was as though both boys agreed to move faster. Steve began pushing his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Billy’s fingers, matching the steady pace Billy had set with his hand.

Billy was tugging his fingers in and out, pushing into Steve’s prostate with each movement, the lube creating a squelching noise as they picked up the pace.

And finally, Steve had enough.

He moved his hips forward, sitting back on his heels to look at Billy over his shoulder.

His face was flushed, his bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat, his pupils blown wide, making his already dark eyes seem nearly black. He tossed Billy a condom, and Billy caught it against his heaving chest.

Steve’s breath caught as Billy ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, looking like some kinda fuckin’ animal, rolling it onto himself with a practiced hand.

“Billy, I fucking want you-”

Billy cut him off by pressing himself against Steve’s back, kissing him harshly as he felt him up, his hands roving, touching every bit of Steve he could possibly manage.

Steve had his own mission, reaching awkwardly behind him to take Billy’s stiff cock in hand, fumbling slightly as he lined up the flushed head of his dick with his slicked-up hole, teasing himself before urging Billy to push on in.

Their lips lost touch from one another the second Billy began moving his hips forward, their moans mingling in the space between them.

“God, fuck, Stevie.” Billy could hardly control himself. He so wanted to let loose, start fucking wildly into the tight heat of Steve’s body, take him as hard and fast as possible.

He let his hands drop down and settle on Steve’s hips. He could feel the firm muscles tensing under his hands, like Steve was barely keeping himself from rocking back to fuck himself harder and faster on Billy’s cock.

And that’s what pushed Billy over the edge.

He pushed Steve forward until he was back in position, face down, ass up. His hands gripped Steve’s hips hard enough to leave bruises, and Jesus, Billy hoped to fucking God Steve had dark marks in the shape of Billy’s fingers for days and days. And he let himself go for it.

Steve was making these breathy, punched-out noises, like with every harsh thrust of Billy’s hips, all the air in his lungs was being forced right out of him.

Billy was slamming them together, pulling Steve’s hips back as he surged his own forward, pulling out almost entirely each time. He was relentless, taking Steve like a goddamn animal right there on the once neat bed.

Neither of them was going to last long, they both knew it.

Billy had taken so much time opening Steve up with his lips and tongue and fingers, Steve wouldn’t even be shocked if he came completely untouched, falling apart with only the attentions Billy has granted to his hole.

Until Billy reached around him with his left hand, still gripping Steve’s body with his right.

He took hold of Steve’s leaking cock, brushing his thumb over the slit to collect some of the glistening precum, drawing his hand tightly down the shaft, moving at an agonizingly slow pace compared to the buck of his hips, keeping Steve on the edge of something, making everything way too much and definitely not enough.

And there was nothing Steve could do.

He felt fucking helpless as Billy pounded him. It was taking all his energy not to just melt into the mattress at this point and let Billy have his way with him.

But Billy was getting close, too close to keep this game up for much longer.

He sped up the movement of his hand, his fist beginning to pump faster and faster over Steve’s aching cock. He wanted him to finish first, wanted to watch as Steve writhed and moaned about.

It didn’t take long. Less than a minute of Billy jerking Steve as quick and rough as he was fucking him, and Steve was spilling out onto the blanket below him, nearly yelling out while his hips convulsed and his fingers twisted until he had a white knuckle grip on the blanket.

Billy could only just hang on, fuck and jerk Steve through it, only letting his grip on his cock go a little slack when Steve finally relaxed a bit below him.

Billy pulled out, snapping off the condom and taking his dick in hand, finishing himself off all over Steve’s lower back, watching his thick cum drip down the slope of his ass.

“ Fuck. You’re so hot,” Billy said, totally in awe. Steve was even hotter than normal wearing nothing but his bright red boots and Billy’s spunk.

Billy took a cloth from the tiny bathroom, getting it a little wet to wipe the cum off of Steve as he lay stretched like a cat on the small bed.

“Thank God I don’t have to ride tomorrow, I don’t think I’ll be able to sit, let alone get in a saddle.” He threw a wink over his shoulder at Billy, bending his knees to let his feet kick up behind him, crossing his ankles in the red boots.

“We should make the best of our good fortune, then. I’ve got a few more rounds in me.”

“Billy Hargrove, you fuckin’ devil .”

#yikes writes #show pony #lemons #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #rodeo au

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

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would’ve preferred a pillow fight // fred weasley

Summary: Ginny knows about the reader’s crush on her brother and she’ll be dammed if she doesn’t stir the pot a little

Request: Request where you're in Gryffindor and having a slumber party with some of the girls. You play truth or dare and are dared to say something embarrassing to Fred who's in the common room with his friends. When you get down there, you struggle to say it and Fred being the ass he is, is just smiling because you're just there flustered, and in your jammies haha

A/N: I loved this request so so much because I treasure Fred but also girls yes please and also bestfriend!Ginny is my favourite she’s one of my fave characters literally the films did her so dirty

Reader: female

Warnings: female reader, making out, swearing

Introducing Ginny Weasley to Truth or Dare might’ve been your greatest mistake to date. In your defence, you thought a muggle game might be fun for Friday night at the girls’ dorms. You, Ginny, Luna (who you’d managed to sneak in with a nifty spell Ginny had learnt from Fred and George), Lavender and Parvati had been meeting up for weeks now, all dressed in your lamest pyjamas as you goaded and teased each other, but you were beginning to get bored after your third round of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. And so, perhaps foolishly, you decided a change of pace would be nice and a muggle game you remembered from your time before Hogwarts would be fun. That, you quickly realised, was an oversight on your part, especially given Ginny knew everything about you, including your massive crush on her older brother Fred, a fact you hadn’t yet lived down.

“Okay,” Ginny hummed, spinning the empty bottle of firewhiskey between her fingers, watching it turn before it slowed to a standstill, pointed directly at Lavender.

“Christ,” she huffed, sighing shortly before shrugging. “Dare, I suppose.”

You faced Ginny, chewing your bottom lip as you watched a mischievous grin stretch her lips. Her eyes met yours and you saw, for a moment, the familiar glint of trouble that you so enjoyed in Fred’s.

“I dare you…” Ginny rubbed her chin, a caricature of contemplation. “To snog Parvati.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back to pick up your half-full cup of firewhiskey in your hand.

“W-What?” Lavender asked, her skin tinting pink as Parvati’s mouth dropped open, her dark eyes glancing from person to person.

“That’s not fair,” Parvati insisted, crossing her arms over her chest, not daring to chance a look at Lavender. “It’s not my dare!”

Ginny raised her hands in a faultless gesture, her shoulder raised as she kissed her teeth.

“She asked for dare…”

You snickered at her innocent expression, your smile widening when she looked at you, her intentions obvious.

“A dare’s a dare,” you shrugged as Lavender, turned to you, all but pleading.

“A dare’s a dare,” Parvati repeated, mocking you with all of the very little venom she could muster. You laughed, throwing your head back before you glanced at a very confused Luna, her eyebrows drawn together and her pale blue eyes wide.

“Fine,” Parvati muttered, her long, thin hands grabbing Lavender’s face, kissing her square on the lips.

You and Ginny burst into a round of applause, clapping as they awkward kiss turned a little more heated. Your cheers and whistles died off very soon, but their snogging did not and suddenly, you were submerged in silence as the two girls made out with each other, not showing any signs of stopping. You sipped your drink, looking at Ginny’s exasperated expression with raised eyebrows from over the top of your goblet. She looked at you and rolled her eyes, shaking her head in mock annoyance.

“They don’t seem to be as reluctant as they were,” Luna mused, leaning back as she pulled at her feet, her legs spread wide either side of her. You scoffed, biting your lip to contain your laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Ginny said loudly, kicking at Lavender with her foot. “I’d say the dare is more than fulfilled.”

Lavender flushed at her words and even Parvati, ever the firecracker, had the good sense to look bashful as she pulled away, tucking her sleek hair behind her ear.

“Right,” Lavender said, earning a chuckle from you and Ginny at her swollen lips and fazed expression. Parvati glared and so you both settled down, pursing your lips in a rare form of submission for the two of you. You looked around as Lavender spun the bottle, catching Luna’s eye and winking as she smiled at you. Her face lit up and you couldn’t help the rush of affection that flooded through you.

“Brilliant,” Ginny cackled, her voice full to the brim with an enthusiasm that made your stomach drop. Turning back to the bottle, your face soured to see it pointing straight at you. As you looked at Ginny, her freckled cheeks lifted high thanks to her massive grin, you rolled your eyes.

“Fuck,” you whispered, only making her beam.

“What was that?” she asked, leaning forward against her crossed legs, tilting her ear towards you. “Truth, did you say?”

You kicked her, earning a giggle from Lavender.

“I think she said fuck, actually,” Luna replied, nodding in confirmation. Even you had to laugh at her tone, twisting your mouth to the side as Ginny leant towards you, her face alight with excitement. You really did hate her, sometimes.

“What’ll it be then, Y/N?” Parvati asked, tucking her feet underneath her as she smiled. “Truth?”

“Or dare?” Ginny said with her eyebrows raised and the evil hazel of her eyes ridiculously electric.

You leant back, knowing that you’d have to accept your fate either way. Prolonging your decision, you rubbed your hands over your face and groaned.

“Come on,” Ginny huffed, pushing at your knee with her foot as she grew impatient.

“Fine!” you said, sitting up and throwing your hands up. “Dare.”

Ginny smirked, something you knew would never mean good things.

“Anyone else want to take this one?” she asked, knowing full well their answer as she looked to each of them. Lavender shook her head, a picture of innocence as Parvati smiled.

“I think I’ll leave this one to you,” she said, turning to Luna.

“I’m sure Ginny has a really interesting dare planned,” Luna replied, smiling at you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes and pushing at Luna with your hand, knowing she knew full well just how interesting the dare would be.

“Go on,” you sighed, resting your hands on your knees, gently picking at the fabric of your pyjama bottoms. “What is it?”

“I dare you to tell my brother that he’s cute.”

You narrowed your eyes at her before a wonderful idea popped into your head and your face relaxed, only serving to make her suspicious.

“Alright,” you nodded, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

You wondered for a moment where Ron would be- probably in the common room with Harry if you knew him at all. As you made to walk to the door, Ginny lifted a finger.

“Hold on,” she said, her innocent smile anything but. “You have to tell Fred.”

You could practically feel your face drop at her words and even at his name, the butterflies you felt whenever he was around fluttered around your stomach. “And you can’t tell him why you told him.”

“You know, Ginerva, you’re a right cow sometimes,” you said, hitting your forehead against the door, listening as the girls behind you stood up, ready to follow you.

“I know,” she replied happily, so much so you wanted to pinch her. With a dramatic sigh, you pulled open the door and began your descent into the common room, praying to Merlin that Fred wouldn’t be in there. It was just your luck, you thought, as you peeked around the corner, spotting Fred sitting around the fire with George and his friends as well as Harry and Ron. Your stomach sank at the sight.

“Do I really-“

“Yes!” three voices insisted far too quickly. You scowled.

“I think that’s part of the game, Y/N,” Luna said gently, not at all encouraging as you stepped into the common room, forcing yourself to be brave.

It wasn’t until you got closer to the group that you fully clocked why Ron and a couple of the other boys were giving you such strange looks. You stalled a few feet away, suddenly aware of your messy hair and oversized “Resting Witch Face” t-shirt.

“You alright there, Y/N?” George asked, turning around in his chair. His tone was mocking but you could see the concern in his eyes, not wanting to tease you too much if you were having a meltdown, a mistake he’d made many a time before between you and his sister. Your insides flipped as you looked at the back of Fred’s head, feeling slightly sick as he turned around, facing you with a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t you look lovely,” he snorted, dark eyes full of mirth. You didn’t even have the stomach to roll your eyes as you approached, avoiding looking too long at any of the boys’ faces.

“Fred, can I talk to you?” you asked, hoping you could do the dare away from prying eyes and listening ears. You turned to look by the stairs, glowering at the heads stacked on top of each other, peeking out from around the corner. Your eyes lingered on Ginny, making a face at her smug expression. Fred followed your eye-line, frowning. He hid the smile that tugged at his lips, suddenly clued in as to why you were acting so strangely. The flash of red hair disappearing behind the stairway to the girls’ dorms had been clear enough. He did love a dare.

“Of course,” he said, leaning back with one elbow resting on the arm of the chair and an expectant look on his face. You paused, flicking at the hairband on your wrist when it became obvious that he had no intention to take your hint. It was just like him, you thought, to make your life harder without even knowing it.

“Right,” you said, looking briefly at his amused eyes before redirecting your gaze, the stares of the seven-or-so lads around you feeling very heavy on your skin. “So, I just wanted to say… Well. What I wanted to say is…”

You frowned, swallowing and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Yes?” Fred said, leaning forward expectantly with a smile. You questioned for a moment whether he’d been in on the whole thing. “I’m getting the feeling she wants to say something, aren’t you, George?”

You let yourself steal a glance at George as he spoke, nodding and smiling from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. “I do get that impression, Fred.”

“What is it you wanted to say, love?”

You frowned at the sound of the term of endearment in Fred’s voice, your mouth going dry.

“I wanted to tell you… that, um, that I think you’re quite, uh, cute.”

You locked your jaw after the words tumbled out, feeling your face heat up instantly as you looked dead ahead, not daring to take a glance at Fred. You could just imagine his gob-shite expression: he’d be chuffed beyond belief, his eyes bright and a lopsided-grin on his lips. A handsome one, too.

“Cute, eh?” he responded, his surprisingly quiet tone drawing your attention. As you looked down, you found that you were almost right about his expression. The only difference really was that in real life, his eyes held much less mischief and were a much sweeter brown.

“Yes,” you said shortly, frowning, your voice barely audible over George and Ron’s sniggering. You swallowed, finally coming to the conclusion that you’d never hated Ginny more than at that moment.

“Any particular reason why you wanted to tell me that now?” Fred asked, his eyebrows raised and a smug smile dancing on his lips.

“Nope,” you shook your head, pressing your lips together and desperately trying to avoid his eyes. He hummed.

“No reason at all?”

You shook your head again, swallowing even though your mouth felt like the Sahara.

“Well, I should probably be-“ you began, turning to leave only to have your wrist caught by one of Fred’s large hands.

You looked down at him, shocked by his grip and immediately warm at the feeling of his skin against your own. An annoyingly amused smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he beckoned you closer with his hand. Against your better judgement, you leant in, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear the thumping of your heart in your chest. His face, you realised as a lump made its home in your throat, was so close that you could feel his breath on your cheeks.

“Has it got anything to do with my sister hiding round the corner over there?” he whispered so no one else could hear, raising a teasing brow. Something stirred inside your chest at his expression and the way the words rolled of his tongue and shakily, you inhaled, biting your lip.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you answered, but the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

“Of course, you don’t,” he mused, eyes scanning your face, looking for something you didn’t quite understand. He held you close by your wrist for a second, too long, you thought briefly, surveying your face. He released his grip abruptly and hummed before leaning back into the chair. You stood up straight quickly, breathing a little too heavily from the close proximity, your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

With your new-found freedom, you all but sprinted back to the girls’ dorm, almost tripping over the rug as you rushed to somewhere where Fred wasn’t seeping into your every thought.

“Oi!” he yelled when you were almost out of the woods, only centimetres away from Ginny. You turned on your heel to see Fred leant lazily over the back of the armchair with a cheeky grin rivalled only by Ginny’s.

“I think you’re pretty cute too.”

He shot you a wink and you thought, for a fleeting moment before your friends attacked you like vultures for details, that you had it a lot worse for Fred Weasley than you’d previously imagined.

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator

@loveisblindness

@decadentwastelandtrash

@xinyourdreamsx

@brainlesspasta

@hariosborn

@rexorangecouny

@staringmoony

@ickle-ronniekins

@harrysweasleys

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter

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sunshine-stars · 3 years

Text

Deja vu

Flynn remembers some of her happy memories with Carrie. Then they see her Instagram posts with Kayla doing the same things.

Inspired by Deja vu by Olivia Rodrigo

Word count: 2707

Car rides to Malibu

“We’re going to Malibu? That’s awesome!” Julie exclaimes.

Carrie laughs a little. “Yeah, my Dad has to meet with some business people there and didn’t want to leave me alone so he invited you guys too.”

Flynn’s over the moon. They’ve been to Malibu a few times, most of them with Carrie and Julie, and it’s always so much fun. It’s about an hour one way and it means that they have a little road trip, which is always more than a little chaotic.

“You know I’m in,” Flynn answers, smiling. Julie agrees and they make plans to go the next day, after asking both of their parents.

“You’re stealing all of the sour keys! How dare you?” Flynn yells at Carrie. She knows that they’re her favourites and she’s eating them all, the traitor.

Carrie huffs. “Only because you’ve already eaten half of them and I want some too!” Her lips are slightly stained green and Flynn can’t help but look at them. They’re probably so soft.

“You’re just lucky that the green one’s aren’t as good as the orange one’s, or else I’d have to kill you,” Flynn replies after a beat too long.

Julie takes a sour key and between bites says, “You’re both wrong, the purple one’s are the best.”

“Of course you think so little miss purple,” Carrie teases.

Julie gasps. “Hey! Flynn’s the shortest, not me!”

“How did we get back to this?!” Flynn groans. “Weren’t we just talking about how Carrie’s a thief?”

“I am not! You’re the hoarder, you made me take them. Besides you being the shortest is so cute and fun.” Carrie raises an eyebrow with an evil little smile.

She’s obviously trying to get on Flynn’s nerves, and she’s succeeding, but why does Flynn’s heart speed up when she calls them cute? Why does her mind go blank for a second as they feel very happy?

She shakes her head a little to steady themself. “You do realize that you’re stuck in a metal box with me, right? Where I could kill you and no one would know. So I suggest you shut your mouth before I make you.”

Carrie coughs a little as her face goes slightly pink. Julie’s just looking knowingly at both of them. What just happened?

Carrie’s Dad turns around in his seat to look exasperatedly at them, though there’s a little smile on his face. “Settle down kiddos. Flynn please don’t kill my daughter, I love her. Carrie please don’t try to aggravate Flynn. Also why can’t you all just share the sour keys? You all like different flavours.”

“Because once Flynn finishes all of the orange one’s she eats all of mine and Carrie’s,” Julie responds like something weird didn’t just happen.

“It’s not my fault that there’s always less orange one’s! It’s not fair! Why aren’t you also telling off Julie she participated in this?” Flynn frustratedly and loudly says.

Carrie’s Dad sighs. “Julie wasn’t yelling and trying to annoy you two. Why do you and Care bear always get into silly arguments?”

Julie mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, “It’s because these two idiots are in love with each other and won’t admit it.”

Flynn glares at her, but she just flashes her perfect little angel smile. Julie’s so sweet that no one expects her to be a little devil, it’s stupid.

Flynn suddenly realizes that Carrie has been very quiet. They turn to look at her and she gasps. There’s only one sour key left… and it’s an orange one.

“Bubblegum, Pinky Pie, Sappho, lollipop, sweetheart, love of my life can I please please have the last sour key?” Flynn quickly rambles.

They just have to get the last one and she’s not above begging for it. So what if her begging includes calling people sweet pet names to bribe them, and so what if they do it more with Carrie? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a coincidence, right?

Carrie looks down and avoids their eyes, her cheeks turning even redder than before. Is she okay? Why has she been acting strange? Flynn has no idea, but they hope for the best.

“Well since you asked so nicely, soda pop.” Carrie hands her the sour key. If Flynn didn’t know any better they’d say she was flustered, but that can’t be right.

Flynn flashes Carrie a wide smile as they start to eat the delicious treat.

Strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two

“You said you didn’t want any ice cream.” Carrie crosses her arms and glares at Flynn.

“That was before I saw how good it looks, and I love strawberry. It’s like the best flavour and it reminds me of you.”

Julie sighs and looks at them disapprovingly, but also slightly amused. “Flynn honey, you said you didn’t want any because your stomach hurt from all those sour keys. Ice cream will only make it a lot worse.”

“I’m feeling better now,” Flynn argues. “Besides now that I want it it’s all that I’ll be thinking about. Do you really want me to be constantly thinking about and bugging you for ice cream? I have seven sodas all the time. It's fine.”

Flynn may have a massive sweet tooth, but how can she not when it tastes so good.

“That’s not healthy and I still don’t like it,” Julie scolds.

Flynn just shrugs in response. “Okay, mom.”

Julie throws her hands up in the air and Flynn turns back to Carrie with pleading eyes.

Carrie just sighs and passes it over. “You’re lucky I like you, babe.”

“I know, sweetie.” Flynn thanks the universe for it everyday. They have no idea where they’d be without Carrie, and frankly, they don’t want to know.

Flynn ignores the fluttering in her chest as they take a bite of the strawberry ice cream and almost moans. The cold sweet fruity taste is so refreshing on this warm day.

It’s a shame she has to share it with Carrie, they want it all to themselves. The thing is that Flynn would do anything for Carrie. Sharing ice cream with her is the least they can do for this truly amazing girl who somehow loves her.

And trading jackets

Carrie wraps her arms around herself. “This ice cream is making me cold.”

Well that’s not allowed. Carrie is this warm ray of sunshine in Flynn’s life and she’s just not allowed to be cold. Not when Flynn’s wearing a perfectly good jacket.

“Here take mine.” Flynn passes it to her with a smile.

It’s their jean jacket that has a bunch of patches and embroidery that Flynn either bought or made. There are lesbian and nonbinary flags that they all put on together after she came out, along with a hundred other things that all have a special meaning. It’s precious to her. If it were anyone else they’d be hesitant about letting someone wear it, but it’s Carrie, it’s a no brainer.

Carrie looks up at them, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “Are you sure?” She has a hesitant and caring look on her face. She knows just how much Flynn loves the jacket.

“Of course, Sappho.”

Carrie smiles softly as she puts the jacket on. Flynn has to catch her breath. She’s wearing their jacket and she almost explodes.

For a second Flynn wishes that they were dating. That she was giving their girlfriend her favourite jacket. That she could wrap her arms around Carrie, kiss her perfect lips, and ramble about how gorgeous she looks and how her wearing their jacket makes her feel so happy. It’d be something out of one of those cheesy rom coms that they watch to make fun of, but secretly like.

Flynn’s daydream is interrupted by Julie’s laugh.

Laughin’ ‘bout how small it looks on you

“It’s so small on you,” Julie says between giggles.

Flynn looks at it again and sure enough it’s too small for Carrie. They’ve had it a couple years so it’s a little small on Flynn, but it’s too sentimental to throw out and it still fits. On Carrie the sleeves come up a bit too much above her wrists and she can’t really button it up.

It should be something for Flynn to laugh at like Julie, but it almost adds to the charm of Carrie wearing their jacket. The imperfections make it real. Besides, perfection never lasts. Robert Frost said “Nothing gold can stay,” but this isn’t gold. It’s as precious as it, but maybe, just maybe, this can last. This moment, their friendship, hopefully it can stay.

Watching reruns of Glee

“Seriously? Why is Rachel always in the spotlight? The rest of them have good voices too,” Flynn complains. Their legs are thrown over Carrie’s lap as they watch a random episode of Glee

Carrie scoffs. “I have no idea. I’m passionate about being a singer, but I’m not that self absorbed. You don’t always need to be the lead.” She leans back on the couch more. “Besides, I can sing better than her.”

Bein’ annoying

“Not self absorbed, huh?” Flynn teases.

They know that Carrie has an absolutely angelic voice that they’re constantly in awe of. She can definitely sing better than Rachel and she’d fight anyone who disagrees. It’s just that teasing Carrie is so much fun. Basically half of their relationship is bickering with each other. Julie says they act like a married couple, but she always sees stuff that isn’t there.

“Shut up.” Carrie moves Flynn’s leg off of her.

Flynn gasps and looks at Carrie with a horrified expression. “How dare you?! Do you not love me anymore?! Betrayal of the highest order! Dishonour! Dishonour on your whole family! Dishonour on you! Dishonour on your cow! I can’t even look at you right now. My heart… it hurts.” They dramatically turn away from her and sigh, acting hurt.

Flynn doesn’t even have to look at Carrie to know that she’s looking at them with an exasperated expression on her pretty face. After a minute she feels a body lay on top of them.

“Can you please stop being such a drama queen? Of course I love you, you idiot,” Carrie says quietly into their ear.

At that moment Flynn realizes just how close Carrie is to her. She’s pressed up against them and her face is literally a breath away from theirs. She has to fight not to get flustered at the fact that this gorgeous girl is oh so close to them and how they are so aware of her every little movement.

Flynn swallows. “Says you, and what happened to babe?” It’s the best thing she can come up with at the moment.

“You’re still the love of my life, soda pop, but when you’re being a bit of an idiot I’m gonna call you an idiot. It’s how it works hun.”

Carrie can’t just say that. Especially not when she’s this close to Flynn who feels like they’re going to combust. It’s just not fair how she doesn’t have a single coherent thought in their mind. Her brain cells have decided to go on vacation to leave her speechless, which they very rarely are.

Flynn doesn’t even bother to wittily respond, partially because she can’t, so they just half watch the episode of Glee that’s still playing and enjoys the moment.

Singin’ in harmony

“For the last time bubblegum, I can rap, but I can’t sing.”

“Come on, at least try. You can’t possibly be as bad as you think,” Carrie pleads as the sun sets around them, painting the world a soft pink.

Carrie looks breathtaking in this glow against the pink sky. Pink has always been her colour. The shade doesn’t even matter, anytime she wears pink Flynn just has to do a double take. Not that she doesn’t look incredible in everything else, pink just kind of enhances it even more.

“You’ve heard me sing, pinky. Don’t act like you haven’t. You know it’s terrible.” Flynn walks slightly faster. If they keep looking at Carrie against the beautiful sky she’d do anything she asks.

Carrie puts a hand on their shoulder, making them stop for a moment. “Yeah, but I can’t remember the last time I heard you sing that wasn’t just singing terribly on purpose to random songs on the radio. Please, I promise I won’t make fun of you.” She just looks so genuine as she says those soft words. It’s enough to make Flynn fall head over heels for her once more, but really, she does that every second they’re with her.

“Maybe later. We’ll try to sing in harmony together.” Flynn takes Carrie’s hand. “Let’s go watch the sunset by the ocean.

Carrie smiles widely and Flynn automatically does the same

I bet she’s bragging to all her friends , sayin’ how you’re so unique

Unfortunately, Flynn never got the chance to sing in harmony with Carrie.

Flynn told herself she wouldn’t look at Carrie’s Instagram, but they just couldn’t help it. She misses her so much and it’s better than nothing, right? Plus Carrie hasn’t blocked them, and Flynn hasn’t either.

There’s a picture of Carrie and Kayla in Carrie’s Dad’s car. They’re both smiling and looking at the camera and eating some kind of snack, but Flynn can’t quite tell what. The caption says that they’re on a road trip to Malibu.

The next post shows Carrie and Kayla sharing strawberry ice cream at an ice cream shop in Malibu, there’s only one spoon. Carrie is wearing Kayla’s beautiful trademark purple jacket.

A picture of them watching an episode of Glee, both sprawled out on the couch together. They’re smiling widely and just look so happy.

Then a post of the two of them posing at sunset, the sky a soft pink that makes Carrie look angelic.

So when you gonna tell her that we did that too?

Carrie did all that with Flynn. They carry the memories so close to her heart. They mean so much to them. They’re a reminder of how it was before, when it was good, when they were all happy.

Now she’s doing all that with someone else. Flynn’s not jealous, but they don’t understand how Carrie’s able to do all of this. Flynn can barely think of road trips, strawberry ice cream, her favourite jean jacket, watching glee, and pink sunsets without being overwhelmed with her feelings and memories of Carrie.

She thinks it’s special, but it’s all reused

Flynn can’t help but wonder if Carrie does all of these things with her friends. She’s obviously allowed to, but Flynn kind of thought she was special. They thought that maybe there was something else there. That maybe their feelings weren’t completely one sided, but that doesn’t matter anymore.

That was our place, I found it first

They both found that ice cream place in Malibu with Julie. It became a tradition to go there every time they went on a road trip there with Carrie’s Dad. It was important to them.

That post hurts slightly more than the rest. Flynn saw that place the first time they went to Malibu and dragged them all in. They wish she could go there again with Carrie, but that’ll never happen. Not after… everything.

I made the jokes you tell to her when she’s with you

Do you get deja vu when she’s with you?

Carrie has to get deja vu when she’s with Kayla, right? She can’t have just forgotten everything they’ve done together. Their entire friendship.

They were as close as could be for years, and now they’re nothing. The girl she knew and loved isn’t quite there anymore. Now she’s been replaced by mean comments and rude looks. Flynn hopes that they can get back to where they were, but it’s not likely.

Do you get deja vu?

Flynn gets deja vu when looking at her posts. She gets a sudden wave of nostalgia and wants to look through her closet to see her favourite jacket and all of their clothes that are connected to memories of Carrie.

Their friendship was as precious as gold, but just like in the poem, it didn’t stay.

Taglist: (send an ask to be added) @lyxchen @sunnysbright

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #flarrie #Flynn jatp #Flynn nolastname #flynn flynnigan #Carrie jatp #Carrie wilson

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jade-marie · 3 years

Text

Top 10 books fics I read in 2020

Tagged by @sothischickshe

I don’t read books. I’m trash. So have my top 10 fics. These aren’t in any real order, btw.

Finally got round to adding some content to each one. Send word to my family, I died doing this. All the fluffy goodness is hitting me right in the feels😭😭😭

Do not collect $200 by @mrslackles

My OG favourite series. I will talk about this till the cows come home, I will read it over and over again until the day I die. So fucking good. The plot, the characterisation, the angst, the fluff, it just has everything and I fucking love it.

Favourite snippet:

Her touch is so light that Rio shivers and his tongue darts out for a second, meeting two of her fingers, and it makes their eyes meet.

And the look she finds there, god, it’s indescribable – no words, there are no words. Yet she knows what it means. Nobody’s ever told me I’m a good kisser and nobody’s ever touched you like this.

She doesn’t say it aloud but it doesn’t matter, not really. They both know it.

And Beth doesn't know when she falls asleep, only that it's with her palm on his throat and her fingers splayed over his lips.

Lush life by @hereliesbb

Lush life is basically my comfort blanket. I have a bad day, I read it and I’m smiling again. Every time. Without fail. The fluffiest fucking shit I’ve ever read in my life, even the angst is fluffy. I love it so much, I cannot find the words.

Favourite snippet:

“What?” she asked when she saw he was staring. She looked back in the mirror to make sure she didn’t have anything in her teeth.

“You’re beautiful,” he said and then huffed like he was making fun of himself. Beth felt her face flush and about a hundred thousand butterflies take flight inside of her.

Warm water by @inyoursheets

Angst, yearning, friends to lovers, slow burn AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES. Such a good read omg 😫

Favourite snippet:

She kisses him.

Elizabeth. Elizabeth kisses him.

He can’t move—can’t think, not with her up close, her scent overwhelming him, her soft body pressed into him—when she’s already pulling back, jerking to a halt.

And just like that, he’s done. Finished. Can no longer find it in him to keep it up, his carefully crafted indifference, the control he tried to grasp so eagerly. No point guarding it from her any longer, not with those wild, wide eyes peering up at him like he can give her something, here, now.

Good sport by fireinsideforfun

Again, phenominal characterisation. I love the way she portrays their vulnerability. It’s just so so so beautifully written.

Also, the image of Rio drowning in a pair of ginormous pyjamas makes me feel some shit🤣

Favourite snippet:

“You’re not going to go rotten on me, are you darlin’?” he quietly asks her.

The question takes her aback, because although his voice is gentle his eyes are speaking volumes, something dark and desolate brewing.

“No. Never,” she says to him and means it.

He scoffs. “How can you know?”

“Because we’ve already been there before,” she says, and she can tell he knows what she’s referring to. “I already tried to get rid of the king and I couldn’t do it. We’ve been through those motions together. It’s done.”

Milkshakes by @emilykolburn

Dad Rio vibes, Rio and babies. Milkshake meetcute. I cannot. Literally so adorable.

Favourite snippet:

Rio was looking her up and down, slowly taking in every inch of her that he could, and she noted that he had that twinkle in his eyes again. When his eyes eventually found hers, he tilted his head to the side a little, tongue running slowly across his bottom lip. The intensity in the eye contact alone made her want to shrink away. She wasn’t used to it, she realised, but the longer they looked into each other’s eyes, and the way the corner of his mouth slowly twitched up into a smirk, she found she liked it.

Irresistible by @wakeupflawless

Highschool au. Enemies to lovers. I eat that shit UP.

Before anyone could say anything, she grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him down to her for a very public, very dirty kiss.

“Oh, shit,” She heard Pedro say.

For once in his life Rio must have been stunned, because he was frozen against her for a moment. He grabbed her hips, pulling her closer to him and deepening the kiss. The bystanders erupted, she heard hoots and hollers coming from the guys and exclamations of “Oh my God!” from the girls.

“Hey! That’s enough” Called the Vice Principal, “Everyone get to class!”

Beth broke their kiss, panting slightly and grinning ear to ear.

“What was that?” Rio asked, raising his eyebrows.

“So everyone knows I’m hittin’ it,” Beth replied, smirking, “And also to say sorry,”

Love despite by @itsbriology

Dad Rio strikes again. If Lindsay throws in one more big-hand-small-baby-ratio reference... i’m pretty sure my ovaries will explode inside of my body and I’ll die of internal bleeding 🙃🙃🙃

Favourite snippet:

The hiccups lasted longer than he thought, almost to the point he wondered if there wasn’t something else he could do for her. But they eventually slowed and so did her tears, and then he stopped and looked down at her little head full of soft brown hair that had landed on his chest and watched her eyes drift shut again from the pure exhaustion of the near traumatizing event.

“There ya go, sleepy head. See, I told ya.” He laughed down at her as he continued holding her and pushing the cart down the aisle. A little old lady stopped and took in the sight of them.

“Someone’s a good daddy,” She smiled up at him with Jane cozy in his arms and he stopped. The lady looked to be about eighty and probably weighed seventy pounds.

“Uhh, no… this ain’t…” He tried telling her but she interrupted.

“What an adorable little girl you’ve got there.”

The lady looked up at them grinning.“Thank you.” He smiled back, not knowing what else to say in that moment.

Criminology 101 by @sdktrs12

College au. Cars being destroyed. Fluffy shit. Idiots being idiots. LOVE ITTTTT

He moves one hand up to brush her hair out of her face. “Do you trust me?”

I do that’s the whole problem, she wants to scream. She finds herself nodding quietly instead.

“That’s good.” He leans down, presses his lips against her temple in a soft kiss that makes her heart skip a beat.

Beth closes her eyes as she leans into him, giving in and letting herself fall into the dark abyss that is his touch, his smell, his voice.

Shit.

She’s in so much trouble.

Both sides of the law by @joeyjoeylee

Slow burn. Y E A R N I N G. But they don’t even know they’re yearning. Taking the constant oneupmanship and translating it into a law school setting - genius. So so good.

Favourite snippet:

“Shouldn’t you be at the bar?” She really needed to let Gretchen know some of the staff had a distinct professionalism problem. If, or when, she was in charge of throwing the party next year, she’d have to make sure they did a better job of recruiting the help.

“Was just there, actually.” He wiggled his hand to show her the beer bottle he was holding. “But Gretch got on me ‘bout not having my nametag.”

She was confused and a little scandalized. Was he really drinking on the job? And…”Gretch”? He had to mean Gretchen? Granted, Beth barely knew her, but Gretchen hadn’t seemed like someone who would be on a first name basis with the staff. And why would he have a nametag? Nametags were for the students, and he was just a bartender…

Oh.

Oh no.

Everything seemed suddenly to be moving very slowly and she seemed to be watching it all unfold from outside her own body.

She watched him lean closer again to reach behind her and pick up the last nametag from the table.

She watched him pluck the Sharpie from her hand and use it to cross out “Christopher” then write “Rio” in big block letters that still managed to look messy.

Then she watched as he made a production of pinning the nametag just so to his lapel, mirroring her, exact and mocking, grinning down at her all the while.

Oh no.

A time to kill @sothischickshe

JUSTICE FOR MICK. And his shirt. Poor bby did not sign up for dealing with these two dumbasses and their dumbassery. Grumpy Rio pov is always a winner in my book. It’s comedy gold.

Favourite snippet:

Jesus, her hair is past lank. He sniffs. “You’re ripe. Go shower, man.”

Elizabeth grumbles incessantly until he agrees she can have coffee first, but he draws a line under a single cup, demanding she hurry.

Rio opens the windows wide as they allow. There’s a distinct scent of manure in the air, but it honestly might be preferable.

“That shirt needs washing too!” he yells from a safe nasal distance.

She literally punts the shirt at him from the bathroom, before slamming then locking the door. The handle vibrates for ages after.

He debates sourcing some tongs to handle the offending item with. When he can’t find any, considers setting fire to it instead. Surely Elizabeth can make herself a dress outta all the hair she incessantly moults over every inch or some shit.

Eventually he chucks it in for a wash with some other bits, holding his nose closed.

Elizabeth’s in the bathroom for fucking ages. He assumes it’s payback for pointing out she stunk, or whatever. But it ain’t cute.

He jiggles the handle, knocks on the door. There’s no response.

“Oi!” Rio shouts. “Hurry up, I gotta piss!” It’s not, strictly speaking, true. But. It could be. Hogging the bathroom’s just rude.

“Go away!” she squawks. Then, “Go outside!”

He keeps it up, and she mostly ignores him. Though when he insinuates she’s taking the world’s longest shit, she does straight up tell him to fuck off.

Tagging @purplemagic @wakeupflawless @00gangfriend00 @joeyjoeylee

#tag game #fics #gg fic

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askintothevoids · 3 years

Text

The Epilogue:

Roman and Virgil:

They never did get married, because they didn’t want to. Virgil believes it to be a british social construct to control women and the lower class, and Roman believes marriage to be bad luck.

They did get into that huge funky war that we were talking about, and had to put Babe with Protection. After weeks of convincing, Valentine, Mac-Kenzie, and Junius fought by Virgil and Roman’s side, and they won after 5 years of fighting.

Virgil fulfilled his lifelong dream of making Bonner regret his words, and plunged his mother’s dagger into his chest. Something about Bonner that Virgil never mentioned was the fact that the man often shared the same words as his former husband, so perhaps that fueled his anger. After a lot of crying, Virgil came to the conclusion that maybe he’d leave the fighting to Angie, and hire a royal therapist.

There was more to Virgil’s story than that though, he did raise Babe with his beloved partner, Roman, after the war. He made an excellent father. Anne even came back and apologized, earning her role back into Virgil’s and his son’s life. He even got to see his nephews more often.

Seeing that his son is now only 12 years away from being a full fledged adult (to him that isn’t very long), Virgil now has to see that Babe is very different from other children. Honestly, he never thought his own very very dead mother would be assisting in the parenting of his child, but hey, Virgil has to remember that he isn’t always right, even if he can see the future.

Meanwhile Roman pursued his love for music and theatre, he even opened a music program for Oteriphanne, showing the lovely folks the beauty of music that isn’t just only about killing the French and Brits in order to stop deculturalization of their land (though that’s not a bad topic, Roman literally just wanted 14th century vampires to enjoy Spice Girls and it worked).

He obviously, but admittedly very awkwardly, learned how to parent a child. Roman wasn’t as picture perfect as he would’ve liked to be, he did after all accidentally make his son cry many times. Like Virgil, he now sees that their kid is different. His son’s ears are full of words that he can’t understand, but hopes to try his best to ease Babe’s worries and hardships in life.

Through five years of virgous studying, Roman became a quarter fluent in Pterannan. With even more studying and training, he finally became a fully trained Knight and earned his spot next to Virgil with his forementioned music program (turns out teaching a population several new skills, means he bettered the population which is a requirement to become a king when you're not blood related to royalty).

Still there’s somethings that Roman still regrets, he never did come to an understanding with his stepfather, who was his namesake. Nor does he see Remus and his husband as often as he wishes he did. And he kinda wants to buy a cow.

Even after being together for almost 10 years, they still love each other, and yes, Virgil still calls a phone, a magic box because some things never change.

Patton:

After he and Logan adopted the children from the Dragonwitch au that they accidently orphaned, Patton certainly was trying his best to keep going, and he did a pretty alright job.

Patton single handedly traveled across the country from Florida to Indiana with four small children whose identities he had to hide along his.

Once he had made it to the David-Dase residence, he explained what had happened and asked for help, and here’s what happened.

Nicholas and James owned property in rural Saskatchewan, which they had inherited from Jane Phoebe David (James’ deceased mother) and never really knew what to do with it. So in order to keep their son’s husband and their new grandchildren safe, James and Nicholas let Patton and their grandchildren live there. It was a good spot for them, it kept the reporters away from Patton and kept people away from Daniel, Jane, Harper and Buddy.

After receiving help from James and Nicholas, Patton had to figure out how to explain his disappearance to the police so that he could gain some form of normality, and a good enough job to support his growing family.

Stuff didn’t exactly go well at first. Still grieving over his separation from Logan, he did often find it hard to smile for his children, nor did he find it easy to explain to them that they couldn’t out in public without being hidden from the world’s view. It didn’t help when his O’Pa (Janus Van Den Bosch-Brzozowski) passed away from a deteriorating body, it was for the best, but it hurt to lose another parent.

He kept going though. His brother, Patton Reyes-Baker, moved in with him and got a job helping a local beekeeper. It wasn’t so bad, grief can strengthen some bonds. His step father, Remus, visited every so often, it was clear that he probably wouldn’t be around much longer either.

He’s doing a pretty good job raising those kids. Still it doesn’t help that Patton wishes he did it with his beloved. There have been many long nights of waiting and crying. There’s a good chance that Patton won’t move on until old age, which could be a good thing for a certain someone. Overall, if he were to describe it, it’s like the worst nightmare and the best dream ever at the same time.

Patton did get to open that diner, he did get to take his puppies home with him, and he did teach his kids how to ride bikes (except Buddy), but it still wasn’t the same. For all he cares, he’s still a married man.

Hymnthian:

Being one of the oldest motherfuckers ever, Hymnthian is still kicking it. Under Virgil and Roman’s rule, he’s pretty happy. He does find some common ground with his great (times a couple hundreds) grandchild though. Babe’s remarkable ability to hear the dead often comes in handy for a grieving widower. In return for hearing what his dead wife has to say, he teaches Babe how to play To-Ouch, an Oterian instrument.

Janus and Remus:

As you might've heard earlier, Janus passed away. It’s important to remember that death is an important part of life. In Janus’ case, they were fine with it. After an aspiring career as a ballerina and potter, not being able to use your hands or foot can often be depressing. When their body finally gave out, Janus figured it best if their sister took their place. Janus died comfortably and happily. What else can I say that will convince you? Death isn’t always a bad thing.

Remus O’Malley-Gator was a different story. After the death of Janus, he found himself once again lost. He visited Patton, Patton, and his step-grandkids every so often. Remus spent most of time adventuring, looking for some kind of fulfillment. I suppose that sounds bad, but I always write a bittersweet ending.

Camila and Lotte:

After spending most of her adult life in the void, Camila was beginning to feel hopeless. Her sons were already grown and had found their soulmates, while she had still had nothing. Camila wandered for a while, universe after universe, she turned up with nothing once again.

With Janus having passed, their replacement would soon have to come in. And well, she was certainly surprised. Camila had no idea Janus had a younger sister! Lotte had been frozen for over 200 years, and arrived fresh from the fridge at the ripe old age of 48.

Camila had her fair share of trying to tell this beautiful, intelligent, strong woman that she was from a soulmate universe and that Lotte was her long awaited soulmate. Let’s just say, it took her a couple years.

Lotte had her share of pining as well. I mean, Camila is an equally beautiful, intelligent, strong woman who was tall (every short lesbian’s weakness).

She found her footing as her sibling’s replacement eventually, while she didn’t wield a shepherd's crook but having arms of pure steel sure did come handy when dealing with the dangers of the void.

Eventually, you know that their had to be an equally cute lesbian void wedding, where Patton and Roman became cousins, so that’s cool.

Logan:

As the only void dweller that actually only lives in the void, his life, honestly, sucks.

As the years go by, Logan’s hair only gets grayer and his yearning only grows stronger. He builds his tough exterior up once more, with some dull hope still intact. Logan knows the probability of never seeing his husband and kids again, and lets the gnawing feeling eat away at him.

But you know what? He did get to be cool Uncle Logan (his Ultra Secret Oterian Code Name was Protection) for about five years. He loved the shit out of Babe, even taught that boy some french and how to clear his mind even when people’s thoughts are louder than all shit.

Then he had to give Babe back to Virgil and Roman, knowing he should take the offer to live in Oteriphanne, he did.

Nothing became of it, he’s just a guy in a country full of vampires. There’s nothing there for him after all. Logan knows Babe isn’t his to parent, and chooses to keep his distance so he doesn’t crowd Roman and Virgil. Maybe in a few years, he’ll risk his life. For now, he’ll just become a grizzled middle aged man.

#tw death #tw death mention #tw loneliness #tw war mention

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alleycat97 · 4 years

Note

Veronica×mc where they make out in Veronica's home for the request? I honestly love your writing! Thank you very much ❣️

Sorry it’s late but yes💅🏻

Kinda dirty, little bit of language but that’s what makes it good right?

MC(Bea) x Veronica

...

Christmas Break had arrived for the Belvoire students and that meant one month away from that hell hole. No more rankings, no more kissing ass, one month to be yourself, but that was never really easy if you were in the top 10. Someone was always watching you. But Bea tried to push past that thought as for the first time ever, she was going to Massachusetts to spend some holiday time with her girlfriend Veronica.

“You live here?” Bea said in awe as Veronica pulled into the driveway.

“No I just show up and raid the house on special occasions...of course I live here.” Veronica teased.

“I was just asking jeez.” Bea started pouting.

“Oh here let me fix that.” Veronica tried to kiss her girl all better but Bea noticed the front door open and she wanted to show a good example so she pulled away.

The two girls were met by Veronica’s parents, Thomas and Cecily. Bea could tell immediately where V got her looks from, she looked identical to her mother.

“Hello darling welcome home.” Her parents greeted, “Ah, you must be Bea, Veronica has spoken a lot about you.”

“Hopefully it was all good things, but yes I am Bea. Thank you for having me. You have a gorgeous home.”

“Very respectful and has a great taste, she’s a keeper V.” Thomas teased ushering the girls in.

“I know you aren’t here long Bea, but we’ve managed to clear out a guest room just for you.” Cecily spoke motioning for the butler to gather their stuff.

“It’s rather odd I know, a house with 11 bedrooms, you would think we wouldn’t have to clean out the spare storage room. But we have a large family joining us for Christmas you see.” Thomas said striding over to his mini bar.

“Oh guys you didn’t have to do that. Bea can sleep with me.” Veronica said knowing it would fall on deaf ears.

“We thought about that. And we do trust you sweetie, but you know how your grandparents are. They aren’t as accepting as we are. If they knew you two were sharing a room as a couple...”

“Mom Jesus it’s not that big of a deal. It’s 2020 not 1920. Nonna and Nonno can just deal when they get here.” Veronica protested.

“Absolutely not, now run along with Edward and you two wash up for dinner.” Cecily added turning her attention to the drink Thomas made for her.

Veronica bypassed her room and went to check out the room her parents setup for Bea.

“This is outrageous! It’s nothing but a broom closet with a bed. You don’t even have good WiFi in here! How are you supposed to watch my streams in here?” Veronica hissed.

“It’s ok babe. All I’m doing is sleeping in here. Plenty of room for that.” Bea said trying to find the silverlining.

“Yeah but not much else!”

“Well I figured since it’s balls ass cold outside we won’t be out much, so I figured we would be in your room most of the time.” Bea started. Veronica starting to smirk.

“Mmmhm and that makes you fair game.”

“V we talked about this. I don’t wanna get caught doing that the first time meeting your family. Especially under their roof.”

“Blah blah always so formal with you.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Obviously not you.” V replied. “Before you leave for Iowa. I. Will. Fuck. You. Brainless.”

Bea swallowed hard. She knew that tone. Veronica was harmless, but when she wasn’t getting what she wanted, she would ruin anything to get it. And that anything was Bea.

“Now come on. Nonna and Nonno will be here any minute. And the rest of the Lombardi clan. Pick out something hella cute and here, you’ll need this.”

“Where the hell did you get this glass of wine?” Bea asked perplexed.

“I’m Italian, always gotta stay ready.

...

Dinner came and went without much issue. Veronica’s grandparents were sweet, old school Italians but they were nice to her.

Apparently no one else knew that Bea was Veronica’s girlfriend. Her younger brother kept complaining about how much hotter her other friends are and the fact that he was indeed marrying Chloe when he got old enough. Bea didn’t mind, she just figured Veronica wasn’t ready to fully come out to everyone.

It was late and mostly everyone went to their rooms. Bea slipped into her broom closet and changed into her usual sleep attire. Well lets just say it wasn’t enough. The little room had no vent for the heat to get into so it was teeth chattering cold. And to make it worse, Veronica was in her room live-streaming dropping hints to her Veronicats about Bea and how she could use some “play time.”

Veronica could be a sex nympho and Bea knew she better please her woman or else she would be dead by daylight. Her phone began to go off, it was V.

“Hello?”

“Get your ass in my bed now. You have 4 minutes or I’m coming to get you and you won’t get to cum this time.”

“Dudeee that’s not fair! Your grandma is sitting in the hallway sewing! She will know.” Bea protested.

“Get creative Winchester, you have 3 minutes.” Veronica ended the call. Bea was in some shit because Veronica would hold true to her word. She would get fucked real good but she wouldn’t let her release. So unfair.

Bea eased out into the dim lit hall and made it close to Veronica’s door.

“The bathroom is down the hall and on the right.” Veronica’s grandma called out in rough English, scaring the shit out of Bea.

“Oh! Well thank you!” She replied shakily. “Fuck I’m screwed!” She whispered.

Her phone vibrated, “2 minutes.”

Bea stepped into the bathroom and began to panic, “Think Bea!” She looked around the bathroom and saw a small window above the sink, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Bea opened the window and started to squeeze out onto the roof. Her hips and butt we’re giving her a test, “Come on Bea you cow! I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that extra piece of cake.” Bea finally squeezed through and fell onto the snow covered roof. It was freezing outside.

Her little booty shorts and crop top weren’t doing anything for her. She quickly closed the window a bit and carefully treaded down the roof line and made it to the right window.

To her surprise it was unlocked and she flopped into Veronica’s room like a fresh caught tuna flopping around on the deck.

“Fuck it’s cold!” Bea said shivering trying to get warm. She turned her attention to a very clothless Veronica waiting on the bed, “You’re late.”

Bea internally shattered. It wasn’t fair. “Babe look, it wasn’t....”

“Save it, get over here and please me.”

Unfair or not, Dom Veronica was so fucking hot. Bea would gladly be a puddle of goo for her.

Bea climbed on top of Veronica and began kissing around on her. Their mouths meeting frequently and their tongues fought for dominance. Bea was quickly warming back up.

A little time had passed and Veronica’s grandmother decided to go and check on Bea. She knocked a few times and received no reply. Worried, she shuffled down to Veronica’s room and lightly knocked before entering.

Veronica and Bea, too busy tongue dancing and touching each other to hear the knock, didn’t notice her enter. It didn’t take much however to hear the shriek of Italian coming from the older woman.

“Veronica! Cosa diamine stai facendo?!” (What the heck are you doing?)

The two girls pulled apart and covered themselves up. Not daring to meet the older woman’s gaze.

“Nonna! It’s no big deal!” Veronica pleaded.

“Sto cercando i tuoi genitori!” (I’m getting your parents!)

Oh shit. They both thought, the girls quickly threw what clothes on they could find and Veronica tucked herself back in, Bea giving her a goodnight kiss before booking it back to her broom closet.

Veronica’s parents made it to her room and of course her grandmother barged back in shouting.

Veronica acted like the intrusion woke her up, she sat up rubbing her eyes in confusion.

“Mama, calm down. There’s no one here?” Cecily answered.

Her grandmother was determined to convince her daughter about what had happened but Cecily played it off. “Mama I told you that medication was messing with your head. Let’s go get you in bed. Sorry V, sweet dreams.” Her mother said with a knowing wink.

Yep, Veronica had a badass mom. Sure, she would have to answer for this fiasco in the morning, but she was saved this time.

She shot a quick text to Bea, “I’m not finished with you yet. Double or nothing, 2 minutes, my room.”

Veronica could literally hear Bea hit the floor trying to hurry back, “God I love her.”

#playchoices #pixelberry #queen b mc #queen b veronica #veronica lombardi #veronica x mc #queen b choices

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slimysnaildaddy · 4 years

Note

Please. We need MC with Tourette's and the brothers/undateables all reacting. Bonus if it's Chaotic!MC.

(For context I told the person asking this to send me this prompt bc I have tourette’s but feel weird abt writing shit on here without being prompted, this isn’t just some random person coming into my askbox like LETS JOKE ABOUT DISABLED PEOPLE i genuinely have TS and told them to do it please don’t flame silver here because he lovely and deserves only good things)

HELL. YES. Get ready for chaos. And I’ll be very careful not to hit the stereotypes, but I am one of the 10% who exhibits coprolalia (the much-lauded swearing symptom of Tourette's, literally meaning “Poop-speak” in Greek) so expect some of that. It should also be noted that I, personally, am completely fine with jokes about tics or laughing when they make for good situational humor, but mocking someone for having tics is a BIG no-no. This does not represent the TS community as a whole and you should always ask the person what level of joking they’re okay with.

I didn’t do all the undateables but this is ridiculous and self-indulgent anyway so no one cares.

Lucifer:

The first time he heard MC tic, it was when he was coming into the HOL after MC had been brought there by Mammon. He heard this puny human shout “SON OF A DONKEY WHORE” at the top of their lungs and automatically assumed they were in the process of being eaten by Beel or something of that nature, so he power walked (though he will deny it later) to their room only to find them casually re-arranging pillows and giving themself an occasional smack to the chest or making a strange yipping sound, perfectly safe.

Once MC explained it to him he simply sighed and came to the conclusion that this is going to be a long, long year.

He does get headaches sometimes, so he’s snapped at MC to keep it down once or twice and gotten chewed out as a result. It really isn’t something you can help, and MC makes that very clear.

Lucifer learned not to say anything of that nature, because somehow MC’s wrath is even worse than Satan’s.

He occasionally finds it hard to tell if MC is having a tic or causing problems intentionally. He wonders if they’re doing that on purpose. He is correct. He wonders if he can stop them. He is incorrect.

After he gets more comfortable with MC and learns the boundaries he will make jokes related to their tics.

“My hovercraft is full of eels!” “Perhaps you should invest in eel-catching equipment.”

If they’re having a bad day where they can’t stop hitting themself or might injure themself because of some of the more unpleasant tics, he will ask them if they need help with something, like a cushion.

Actually cracks up at some of the funnier tics. One time MC got him to spit coffee all over Diavolo with a perfectly timed tic. It was glorious.

Will facepalm if they say/do something particularly inappropriate.

Mammon:

First time he heard (or rather, saw) MC tic it was when he was unlocking the door to the HOL for them for the first time and they made a loud whooping noise and clapped very loudly.

Naturally this startled the shit out of him cause he’s a pissbaby lol. MC didn’t say anything about it cause they were too busy expecting to be murdered by this powerful demon lord who has been just this side of hostile to them ever since meeting them. They didn’t know he’s a pissbaby yet.

After a little while they mentioned “Oh hey i’ve got tourette’s” and here’s how THAT went.

MC: Yeah, I have Tourette’s Syndrome so if I start saying or doing weird stuff-

Mammon: WAIT. Isn’t that the swearing disease. (sighhh)

MC: *deep sigh* only 10% of us have coprolalia-

Mammon, barely remembering ancient Greek: WAIT SO YOU SHIT YOUR PANTS-

Satan tries correcting him but MC cuts him off like “no no, i want him to keep thinking that it’s funny as fuck”

Mc then proceeds to torment Mammon by threatening to shit on his belongings. Keeps him from stealing their wallet.

Literally takes him until he makes a pact with them to get the proper explanation (and to get roasted for making that assumption in the first place)

100% jokes with MC about their tics.

Still gets startled by the more sudden/loud ones and has jumped into Beel’s arms bc of this.

Levi:

First time they did a tic in front of him was when they were trying to figure out how to find Goldie.

“Maybe we should look in the- *starts smacking chest repeatedly* GARGOYLES GARGOYLES ughhh hang on this is gonna take a few minutes to stop GARGOYLES GARGOYLES”

Levi: *white guy blinking gif*

They do not look in the gargoyles.

MC explains it to him and he’s just like “OH I’VE SEEN MOVIES WITH THAT”

MC stares off into the distance like a character from The Office

He ends up being responsible for them having MULTIPLE tics where they imitate anime attack calls or gestures, peppered with occasional magical girl transformation lines.

They say rurin in a cutesy little voice every 5 minutes for a whole week and everyone’s glaring at Levi the whole time.

Thinks some of their tics are REALLY CUTE AND ANIME and is not shy about saying this.

MC: ugh, you know this is a GENUINE DISABILITY, right?

Levi: omg i’m sorry

MC: lol i’m just fucking with you- RURIN~!

Satan:

He noticed MC being a bit twitchy from the moment they arrived, but simply assumed they were nervous and a bit flinchy because of that. Of course, they totally were nervous but also their brain was just like “time to clench all of your muscles at once instead of paying attention to this very important conversation”.

After that he just notices more and more, and honestly he probably reads a lot so it’s likely he already knows about Tourette’s or similar tic disorders, it’s entirely possible that he asks them about it or mentions it casually in conversation.

Is honestly fascinated by their tics and what can trigger them, when they’re more or less frequent, things that cause them to get better or worse, etc etc. MC may have to actually tell him to stop treating them like a case study.

Or, even better, they may just intentionally fuck up his observations.

Knows a thing or two about how it feels to not be able to control yourself when upset. Whenever MC gets a tic attack he’s ready. He looked this up.

Tries not to crack up when they say or do objectively funny shit but sometimes a tic is times just PERFECTLY and he can’t help but snort.

Asmo:

The first time he heard them tic it was a mild disaster.

“Kissy poo~”

“OH YOU WANT ME TO KISS YOU?”

“nonono wait-”

Thinks some of the tics are cute and will absolutely let MC know. Even if they tell him to fuck off lol.

He sees a nasty bruise from one of MC’s more unpleasant tics (eg: chest smacking, slamming their head/arm into something on accident from a flailing tic) and doesn’t just have a cow, he has the entire damn pasture. MC simply CANNOT have such marks on their gorgeous skin! Don’t worry, he’s got creams and makeup for that :^)

Is a little too enthusiastic about offering to help MC relax if they’re having a bad tic day. He suggests massages. Massages are always good.

He’s happy to provide the massages.

Please MC let him give you a massage.

Beel:

First time he saw them tic it was during breakfast and they whistled very loudly right next to him.

His poor ears :( how could you hurt him in this way MC

Once they explained it he was like “Oh. Okay.” and moved on with his life.

He gets the whole “having urges to do shit you shouldn’t do” aka eating something he shouldn’t. He does his best to distract MC if they’re having bad tics.

mc: oh sorry i just need to touch something haha tourette’s is wild right *full on grabs beel’s chest* beel: :?

MC can ask him to restrain them if they’re having a really bad time with stuff and he’s more than strong enough to help lol. UNLIKE MY MOTHER SORRY MOM

Always apologizes if he accidentally triggers a tic.

MC starts climbing on him. Tourette’s compels them. He allows it. Jungly gym beel?

No lie I have a tic that’s just me saying “I eat worms!” in a cutesy voice and- IMAGINE

Belphie:

First time he saw them tic it was while he was still in the attic, they started jerking their head around during a late night visit and he was like what the fuck are you doing-

Thought it was incredibly annoying at first. I don’t blame him honestly. Tourette’s more like Annoying Asshole syndrome am i right (haha that internalized ableism)

Subtly triggered their tics intentionally cause haha stupid human

Once he got out of the attic and made friends with MC properly he was just kind of like “oh that was pretty shit of me wasn’t it”

Honestly doesn’t know how to help so he just ignores it lol.

The one time he tries to help them when they’re having a bad tic day he makes them take a nap with him because clearly if they’re asleep they can’t tic, right?

Surprise! They still can. Enjoy the knee to the stomach, B.

Encourages them to use their powers for evil. Like telling them to spill something on Lucifer and claim it was because of their Tourette’s.

Note: don’t do that, mc only obliges bc this is chaotic mc. TS not a toy etc etc

Barbatos:

Read that MC had tourette’s on their file, but honestly didn’t know what it was. Probably just assumed it was a heart condition or something, so when MC comes over for the retreat him and Dia are not expecting the tics.

The first time they tic in front of him it was at the retreat. He had just served them tea and tourette’s said yeeting time and they chucked the teacup. It hit him in the forehead. Tea all over his face. His hair. His suit. The wall. The floor. Maybe some on Diavolo too. He’s both impressed by their aim and wanting to fucking die.

Mammon is howling with laughter.

MC explains it to him while he’s still dripping with tea and he just smiles in a very strained manner and goes to get changed and wash his hair.

At the retreat when MC and Solomon make human food, he quickly learns that MC should not be around sharp Devildom knives. Or a stove. Or anything dangerous.

Gets weirdly protective over them, especially if they DO end up handling potentially dangerous stuff.

Keeps trying to find better ways to serve them drinks so they don’t break all the fine china, like plastic cups with lids. Stuff still gets spilled everywhere so he tries to get them a travel mug. The handle snaps and the lid leaks. Eventually gets them a sippy cup for toddlers, which works wonders. MC thinks it’s hysterical and makes him put a label on it with their name.

He seriously considers investing in Gyro Bowls as well.

After MC accidentally turned a platter with a soup bowl on it into an impromptu catapult with a poorly aimed table smack, he does just that.

One time they mention having a very strong urge to put their hand over a burning candle and he makes sure no candle is ever near them in the palace.

honestly i have too many ideas for barbatos so he’s getting a whole ass fic.

Diavolo:

The teacup incident was also the first time HE learned the true nature of Tourette’s syndrome. Once the whole deal was explained (and he knew mc wasn’t maliciously throwing things at Barbatos) he thought it was the funniest shit.

Bless his heart honestly.

Tries to not laugh at first bc he thinks it’s probably disrespectful. Meanwhile MC is cackling like a mad scientist bc they dabbed for the 343643th time today and Lucifer looks like he’s about to blow a gasket as a result.

Lowkey I can kind of see him as being one of those “Oh my goodness you are so BRAVE for going through this” meanwhile mc stares off into space like they’re on the office

Is astounded at all the unique challenges humans have to go through meanwhile MC is yeeting cups at barbatos

#tourettes #very specific and unrelatable tbh #actually tourettic #wow is tourettic the adjective?#huh #fitting #nobody asked for this #i'm self insert trash #and bullied someone into sending me this ask #you're welcome #asks

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sylvesterlestermanchester · 3 years

Text

Fearfully and Wonderfully

Summary: Dan wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to experience when he starts his first semester at Uni, but he was pretty sure an incredibly sheltered Catholic boy stealing his heart wasn’t on his list of typical college tropes.

Word Count: 12401

Genre: Humor, fluff, angst. All mixed together. Fun times!

Warnings: Conversion therapy, homophobia, brief allusions to sex and genitals. One puke joke?

A/N: This is my first ever published fic-I’ve been writing for literally years little bits and pieces, but COVID has me going crazy and I just wanted to put some effort into an actual thing. Thanks for reading!

Dan wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he walked through the door to his dorm the first time, parents and sullen little brother in tow. All of his knowledge about Uni had been from TV and movies-maybe he would have some frat guy in the bed across from him, or maybe a stoner, or maybe a weird silent dude who will disappear after the first week and let Dan put their beds together so they would actually fit his gangly body.

What he isn’t expecting is to have an eight-year-old girl bodyslam herself into his legs, followed by a loud groan and a sharp voice scolding “Suzanne, we told you to stop running!”

Dan’s eyes look down at the (quickly retreating) girl and blinks a few times as he takes in the scene in front of him. There are way too many people in the crowded room right now-he counts two identical boys, both around 10, bouncing on the stiff dorm bed, one pre-teen digging through a cardboard box, a girl around Adrian’s age whispering something to an older woman with a toddler in her arms, standing next to a quiet-looking tall man, and, of course, the eight-year-old, now having been scooped up by a sheepish looking guy around Dan’s age who’s giving him an apologetic smile. This must be the Philip Lester on his room assignment form. “Sorry. My family is kind of, erm, excited.” He says with a small, nervous laugh and sets the girl aside before sticking out a hand to shake. “I’m Phil! You must be, um...Daniel, right?”

Dan takes a second to readjust the bags in his arms to shake Phil’s hand awkwardly, trying not to look too overwhelmed at the scene in front of him. “Dan’s fine.”

The kids have all frozen in place, staring at Dan with wide eyes like Dan just sprouted a second head. There’s a few long beats of silence as Phil shakes his hand just a little too enthusiastically for just a bit too long.

Finally, Phil’s mum places a hand on her son’s shoulder, beaming brightly. “It’s so great our boys will be living together!” She cheers to Dan’s mum, who looks a bit bewildered. Ms. Lester gently takes a few of Dan’s bags and sets them on the bed, continuing to chatter on. “Come on, we can unpack while you two get to know each other better. I need to know who my son is going to be rooming with, right?” She continues to babble in a thick northern drawl as Dan glances back at his parents, who look like they’re about to bolt for the door and leave their son to be swallowed whole by these people.

“You’re rooming with an absolute freak,” Adrian mumbles in his ear with a small smirk. “Karma is a bitch, huh?” “Shut up.” Dan hisses back through his teeth, trying to look as interested as possible as Phil’s mum keeps talking.

“The weather here is so nice-it’s already getting cold up in Rossendale, can you believe it? Max and Adam were running around outside, and I was so scared they were gonna catch cold, you know how quickly little ones do. Oh, the drive here was wonderful-” “We saw cows!” One of the kids butts in, and suddenly they’re all talking, any nervousness they had around the strangers suddenly vanishing.

“And horses!” “We got hamburgers, and there was this huge truck-it had to have, like, forty wheels-” Phil seems to take after his dad, quietly but quickly unpacking since his siblings have seemingly given up on it in favor of telling Dan’s family every detail of the six-hour car ride. At one point he makes eye contact with Phil, who gives him an apologetic look, his cheeks flushed and an embarrassed grin on his face as the kids chatter along excitedly like they’ve never talked to another person before.

Finally, right when Dan feels like his ears are going to fall off, Phil speaks up again. “I-I think I can get this from here, guys. Mum, Dad, why don’t we go out for a walk before we say goodbye? I know you guys want to see the geese on campus, right?” The kids all cheer like geese are the most exciting thing on Earth, scrambling for the door. Phil’s mum gives Dan a tight hug and Phil’s dad, still not having spoken a single word, even gives his shoulder an uncomfortable pat before they head out. The small space suddenly feels vast and empty, and the silence is almost tangible. “Well. They seemed...friendly.” Dan’s mum says after a few moments, his dad snorting.

“You’re in for quite a year, huh, kid?” He jokes. Dan laughs weakly, but in all honesty, it doesn’t seem that funny.

Just what did he get himself into?

Dan’s curled up in his bed when Phil finally comes back a few hours later, giving Dan that same crooked, shy grin from earlier. Now that it’s just him and not him with (presumably) his entire Brady Bunch-style family, he can get a better look at his roommate. He’s tall, about an inch taller than Dan, and lanky. His black jeans are just a bit high on his ankles, and his faded green shirt clings to his skinny frame. As Dan’s eyes travel higher he takes in his flushed cheeks, his blue eyes wide behind his oversized glasses, all behind shaggy black hair that doesn’t match his ginger eyebrows-ginger like every other family member of his. Dan suddenly feels a bit self-conscious in his Game of Thrones pajamas and old school shirt, pulling his covers up a bit higher as he takes in the other young man with a strange feeling in his chest. He’s definitely different than anyone Dan’s ever known. But damn, if he isn’t cute.

“Sorry if my family was a lot today.” He says after a slight moment of silence, a slight giggle slipping out as he walks over to one of the boxes on his side of the room. “I’m the first to go to Uni out of my brothers and sisters, so my parents decided to, like, make it into a whole thing.”

The memory of the chaos is still fresh in Dan’s mind, but hearing Phil talk about it, he can’t help but smile a bit as well. “I’m the oldest, so I get it. And they were nice. Your siblings are very...uh, talkative.” He says slowly, trying not to sound rude, but Phil’s giggling again before he can worry too much about it.

“We’re from kind of the middle of nowhere, so they’re just excited to see, like, humans outside of Rossendale for the first time.” Phil joked as he started reorganizing some of the things his siblings had just sort of dumped around the room. “Plus, they don’t usually get sugar, but they had soda on the way here. So they were practically about to explode by the time we pulled in. They just exploded all of that excitement onto you.”

Dan can’t help but laugh a bit at that as he watches Phil set some thick books up one way and then rearranges them. “Oh, Jesus. That car ride must have been nuts.” Phil looks over his shoulder, grinning wider now. He looks more and more relaxed each minute, as if he was just as nervous about Dan as Dan was about him. “You have no idea, oh my gosh. They were already wound up for today, and then there was soda, and Max and Alex-they get carsick even worse than I do, and then Suzanne had to pee, like, forty times an hour, and Mum was all weepy...this has been the longest day of my life.” He joked, laughing along with Dan.

Even though Dan can’t connect any of the kids to their names, he feels like he knows them decently well. In fact, as the conversation drifts into more goofy road trip stories, Dan’s surprised with just how close he feels to Phil like they’ve known each other before they even met.

It’s strange, he finds. But then again, Phil’s pretty strange, after all.

Dan doesn’t fully realize how strange Phil is until the next day. There’s a few hints-Dan makes a reference to some TikTok audio and Phil admits he’s never used it before, staring in awe as Dan scrolls through his ForYou Page for him. When they head off to orientation in one of the lecture halls, Phil’s head jolts up and his face flushes bright red when one of the countless speakers jokingly curses (if you can count “ass” as a curse-Dan honestly can’t). But it’s not until they’re out at the quad with some of their new peers for lunch when Chris turns to Phil and asks if he went to the school his cousin went to up north. “Oh, I didn’t go to school.” Phil says with a bright smile, before quickly adding “I mean-I was homeschooled. So I just kinda did the work when I wanted to.”

“Your parents homeschooled you? Didn’t Dan say you had, like, twenty siblings?” Louise questions as they all turn to look at Phil. Dan feels a migraine coming on just imagining being home with all of those kids all bloody day, though he can actually picture Mrs. Lester teaching them all pretty well. Phil laughed a bit, cheeks flushing pink as he looked down at his sandwich.

“We all were. My mum and dad didn’t like the schools in our area-they wanted us to be more connected to the church, said that “our values weren’t instilled in traditional education’.” He explained with a small shrug. When PJ raised an eyebrow at that Phil pulled a small cross necklace out from under his shirt. “I’m Catholic. I actually have plans for Seminary after getting my bachelor’s-so if you’re planning on getting married, I’m taking bookings now.” Phil’s last comment was clearly meant to lighten up the mood, but it’s obvious that the subject matter was making the group a little uncomfortable, considering they all just met. Dan’s mentally running through Phil’s belongings in their dorm-were all those books Bibles? Was he going to start hanging crosses everywhere? Or make him wake up early on Sundays?

Before his brain could spiral out further Chris blurted out “So, were you raised in a Jesus bubble or something?” Louise smacks his arm but Phil giggled. “I-I have been told I’ve lived a bit of a sheltered life before, yeah.” “Were you allowed...TV?” PJ asks slowly, eyes widening when Phil shook his head.

“Not cable. We could watch DVDs, but they had to be approved, so it was usually educational. I know a lot of animal facts, actually. Did you know hippo-”

“What about the internet?” Louise cuts him off.

“Not after my older brother got caught Googling “bikini girls” when he was 10.” Phil joked lightly. “But even before that, my mum was pretty anti-internet. If I really needed it for school or whatever, I’d go down to the library.”

“No Harry Potter?” “Promotes witchcraft. Apparently. I haven’t read it for myself, but-”

“Dating?” “Not without serious intention to marry-and I’m not exactly ready for that, so-” “Running water?” “You know what’s funny?” Phil says, giggling a bit and bringing his knees loosely to his chest. “You guys think I’m weird, which is totally understandable. But your guys’ lives before this sound weird to me, too. Like-Chris, you got to play video games as a kid, right? And I was taught that those would turn me into some homicidal maniac. Dan, I saw you have a horoscope app-that’s the occult, so that’s a huge no-no.” Wow, okay. Before Dan could feel too offended, though, and Chris could jump in, Phil keeps going. “But, like, I get that you’re not a witch, or Chris, you’re not gonna chop me up into little pieces when I’m sleeping. There’s gotta be some middle ground here, right? So...you guys could show me how to live more like you, and maybe you guys would be more interested in what I’m into?”

There’s a small silence that falls across the group before a wicked grin slowly appears on Louise’s face.

“What do you want to learn first?”

The next few weeks are a bit of a whirlwind for Dan. Between classes, hanging out with new friends, homework, scrambling to find a job, remembering to text his mum and let her know he hasn’t died, he’s barely able to keep his head on straight. But the time he spends trying to introduce Phil to the “real world” is some of his favorite.

Phil had set some ground rules-nothing that could kill him or ruin his life if it got out on social media. If he got too uncomfortable, he was allowed to tap out, but he’d give it an honest attempt. And nothing Satanic. (Dan had laughed until he realized by the look on his face that he wasn’t joking).

Granted, their friend group hadn’t done a great job at the start. PJ thought it would be hilarious to let Phil start with some “iconic reading material”.

Dan had been in class when they had presented the book to him, and the two were in their respective beds when Dan heard a shocked gasp from Phil’s side of the room.

“You good, mate?” He rolled over, watching as Phil sat upright and started flipping through the pages. “Do-Do you know about this book?” He asked, face turning impossibly redder as he held up the cover for Dan. 50 Shades of Gray. As Dan burst out laughing, his roommate whined playfully.

“What-Phil, who gave this to you?” “PJ said it was necessary reading!”

“PJ is a dunce. Give it here, I’ll protect you from the big bad book.” Dan teases, but Phil quickly shoves the book into his hands like it’s on fire.

“I’m gonna have nightmares about ties and rich men for weeks.” He grumbled playfully, curling up on his bed and reaching for his phone. “I’m never trusting Peej again.”

Louise turns full maternal the next day when he struggles to recount the experience in polite language (Dan holding back laughter), and she decides to go the complete opposite way, launching a mission to, as she put it, “reshape Phil’s lost childhood”. Phil lightly pushes back against wording, because he feels like he had quite a nice childhood, thank you very much.

Still, Louise comes over a couple of nights later, armed with her laptop.

“They couldn’t come up with a more creative name than “High School Musical”?” Phil teased gently as she pulled it up on her screen.

“Phil, you sweet boy, High School Musical is a cultural milestone that you need experience. So no backtalk!”

“Whatever you say.” He said, sitting on the other side of her and holding a bowl of popcorn in his lap.

They watch the first movie, and then the second, and then Phil’s begging to watch the third. As the final song plays Dan glances over and sees that Phil has his head ducked down, shoulders shaking gently.

“Phil?” Louise asks gently right as a choked sob erupts from him. She lets out a yelp as Phil flings his arms around her neck, laughing shakily. “It was just...Troy chose basketball and music…both of his passions...” He blubbers out, nuzzling into her shoulder as she coos. “You’re so weird, hon. You know that?” Once he’s calmed down enough (when Dan offers him a hug the waterworks start up all over again, sniffling. “So. Is that what your guys’ school was like?”

Louise and Dan glance at each other before bursting into laughter, only stopping a couple of minutes later when Louise turns to Phil once more. “If you liked High School Musical, you’re going to love this show Victorious…”

Of course, it’s not all smutty books and (incredible) movie trilogies.

Being homeschooled meant that all Phil knows is doing school when he feels like it. Lucky for Phil, he’s a huge nerd, so homework and studying actually excite him. The problem is, these things tend to excite him at 3 in the morning, and he actually has classes to go to now outside of his room.

By day three of no sleep, Phil swears Dan’s grown wings, and Dan intervenes. They make up a rules sheet-bedtime is 2AM, wake up at 10AM, eat three meals a day, no more than five cups of coffee a day (of all the vices Phil was deprived of, caffeine was clearly not one of them-Dan’s never seen anyone drink more coffee in his life). He gets him down to one all-nighter a week, and in turn, Phil wakes him up each morning and helps him with schoolwork so Dan doesn’t have to face going to the tutoring center. It turns out that Phil’s kind of a genius, despite never being in a classroom until a couple of weeks prior.

Chris is the one who convinces Phil to get social media, telling him that “only serial killers and old people” don’t. Phil’s not the greatest at it at first (there’s a lot of pictures uploaded on accident to his Instagram stories and nonsense tweets), but he slowly gets more used to it, getting his terrible puns and weird things he sees on campus out to the world (all 20 of his followers).

Dan can’t help but get slightly annoyed when Phil’s phone is shoved in his face to choose a filter of some stupid looking goose that’s close to attacking him, but the look of pure elation that Phil gets when someone sends a dog meme in their group chat is enough to warm his heart in ways he didn’t want to address fully but knew he couldn’t ignore.

There’s so much to teach him, and it seems like each day something pops up. Still, Dan’s surprised by Phil’s world, too.

First, he brings them to a non-denominational bible study group. PJ groaned quietly as Phil handed them all cheap paperback Bibles before they entered the church.

“Can’t we do something a bit more...fun? With less reading?”

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again,” Phil said with a grin, rocking back and forth on his heels. “And if you like it-which hopefully, you will-we can come back once a week, and I’ll get you some nicer Bibles. These are just to start out with.”

Louise forces a small “yay” as they head inside, Phil leading them through the sanctuary with a happy sigh before taking them down some stairs, where a young woman sits in front of a small arrangement of chairs. “Phil, you brought your friends!” The woman cheers and Phil laughs happily. “Caroline-this is Dan, PJ, Chris, and Lou. They’re new to all this, so we’ll go easy this week?” He joked lightly, and Caroline nods, asking them about their religious beliefs.

“Uh, went to church a few times with my Nan. Atheist.” Dan says, biting his lip. He never actually said the “a'' word around Phil, and he’s a bit nervous that he’s going to suddenly flip out, but he still seems just as excited as when he walked in.

“Atheist. Never been-parents hate churches. Can I still grab snacks?” Chris adds and Caroline laughs, nodding.

“I’m a little complicated, but it’s basically just hippie church.” PJ says, shrugging. “Singing and chanting and all.”

“I go about once a month-I’m Episcopal, officially, but I’ve been to other churches too.” Louise gently smiled, and with that, the group got started. They went around and talked about their weeks, a few upcoming events, a prayer, and then Caroline instructed them to get their books. Phil pulled a well-worn leather Bible out of his bag, and Dan’s eyes widened a bit when he opened it. There are post-it notes everywhere, with entire passages highlighted and notes covering practically every margin in Phil’s stupidly perfect handwriting. It’s clear that Phil’s spent a lot of time with the book.

“Since we have guests, I figured we’d take a break from our reading of Matthew and focus on a couple of specific verses today,” Caroline says brightly. “James 1:13-15: “Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of God: for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man: But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.”

There’s a slight pause and Chris furrows his eyebrows. “Huh?” “In simple terms-don’t say God isn’t the one to tempt you, because when you stray off His path, that’s on you.” One of the group members explains. “And if you do sin, it’ll lead to, uh, death.”

“Well, does God not tempt us to do bad things by putting so much pressure on us to be perfect?” A girl with blue hair jumps in, raising an eyebrow. “He sets the standard so high. Sometimes I’m just like, ‘Chill, dude. I can’t do everything. I’m not you.’ “

PJ snorts at that, giggling. “You call God dude?” They’re all laughing now, but Dan can’t believe it-he wants to jump in.

“Can I ask a dumb question?” His voice is a bit quiet but inquisitive. “Isn’t God supposed to be loving and forgiving? Why does He want you guys to be perfect? That sounds kind of...harsh.”

“Well, He knows we’re not perfect.” Phil says, and another guy nods.

“He asks for us to be because it strives us to be better. And it teaches us that messing up is okay.” The conversation keeps up for a bit before Caroline interrupts, asking them to focus on the latter half of the passage.

PJ narrows his eyes at the text before looking up. “Am I really gonna die if I sin?” “Well, sin was what led us away from eternal life in the first place-Adam and Eve kinda messed that up for us.”

“Yeah, but our personal sins can lead us to death, too. Not just old sins. That’s what God’s warning us about here.”

“Not every sin does, though. Like mixed-fabric shirts.” Louise grinned a little. “Or grabbing dudes by their nads during fights.” PJ’s eyes widened and he turned to Phil. “Are those actual rules?!” “It was a different time!” Phil giggled as he watched him flip through the pages quickly.

“Where does it say we can’t grab nads?’ “Can we stop saying nads in church?” Phil pointed out, still laughing despite his red face.

Caroline tuts and wags a finger playfully. “Uh-uh, Philip. No judgment. They can talk about nads all they want, now.”

The entire room is laughing again as Phil buries his face in his hands. Finally, when he controls his giggles, Caroline speaks again. “Do you think talking about that kind of stuff in church is a sin, Phil?”

It’s teasing at first, but Phil actually thinks about it for a moment.

“Well...my household was pretty strict growing up. I mean, I got yelled at once for just sneezing during church.” He admits slowly and Dan’s eyebrows furrow a little. He can’t imagine either of Phil’s parents yelling at him, or anyone, really. “But I get why it was. They wanted me to love God, and respect Him, just like they loved and respected me and I loved and respected them. So I think if you do things with love, genuine love, it’s not a sin. But if you do things out of hate, or anger, or with the intention of hurting, that’s a sin. And that’s not automatically bad-like T’andra said, we’re all gonna make mistakes. Just keep on acting with love, and I think you’re good.” There’s a pause, and Dan’s face flushes slightly. Not just at how much Phil was saying “love”, but the words he spoke, and the true thought and passion behind them.

The moment is cut short when PJ snorts. “So if I love nads, I can talk about them to Jesus?”

By the time the room is back under control, the group is over. “Y’know, that was actually pretty fun.” Chris said after they had all grabbed snacks and talked to everyone.

“It was! It was like...philosophical debate.” Dan said. “The real nitty-gritty. The topics of good, evil, life, death, corruption-” Louise shoved him gently. “So deep, Dan. Of course you enjoyed it.” She joked lightly before adding “No offense, Phil!” Phil doesn’t seem to care-he’s grinning so wide it must be hurting his cheeks, and Dan would be lying if he isn’t tempted to start reading the whole Bible from cover to cover just to see him grin like that again.

Phil also manages to bring them to actual church services a couple of times (though getting college students out of bed before noon on a weekend proves to be a practically impossible task).

Dan has to admit he’s not as impressed with this as he is with the study group. The group is fun-they can all talk, and laugh, and actually discuss the points. Church is...not. They sit on hard pews. They listen. They stand and sit and kneel and stand and sit and kneel. They sing a few songs, and while Phil’s quiet baritone makes Dan’s sore knees quiver, it’s not enough to really warrant him waking up at 8AM on a weekend.

Phil is politely understanding of this, though it’s clear that this is of certain importance to him that his friends might not ever understand. It’s admirable if nothing else.

Other than storytelling from his childhood (which does little to make him seem more normal, honestly) and the weekly study, though, Phil doesn’t talk too much about the church to his other friends. Dan, however, is different. Maybe it’s just the fact that they live together and their space is more shared, but Phil opens up to Dan a bit more about it. He reads passages and verses to Dan, he prays in front of him, and he answers his questions in a non-condescending way. Dan has to admit that while he likes what Phil says, he can’t find himself connecting to it in the way Phil has, with his entire heart and soul. But Dan can admire the stories and the way his friend sees the world, and this new world that he’s entering with him.

It’s been a month of them being friends when Dan realizes that he’s seeing the world in two ways-Dan’s universe, and Phil’s universe. They’re so different, but (and he’s sure he’d never admit this out loud) Dan prefers when their universes collide.

When Dan comes home after a long day of classes and working at the campus bookstore, he’s exhausted. The soft music fades through the room as he opens the door to find Phil chewing on a pen, looking just as anxious as him. “I think my brain is leaking out my ears,” Phil said wearily, looking over the top of his glasses at Dan. “Do I have brain on my desk?” Dan snorts and rolls his eyes, reaching over and grabbing his textbook. “We need a break. And you need sleep-I know you took that second all-nighter last night, rule-breaker.” “Fine. Watch something with me?” He says after a moment, grabbing his laptop. They load up an episode of Zoey101 (they’d finished Victorious the week before) and hit play.

As the bars from the theme song fade out, Dan suddenly feels a strange pressure on his shoulder. He glances over and finds Phil with his cheek pressed to Dan’s shoulder, glasses sliding down his nose as he lets out a soft snore. Dan pauses the show, and for a brief moment, it’s just the two of them. Dan and Phil.

He lives for those moments: Getting coffee after a class. Sending each other memes. Trying new food at the dining hall. Brief greetings in the halls. Shared looks as they hang out with their friend group.

It’s been a month of them being friends when Dan realizes he's never fallen quite this hard before. He doesn’t just want to make out, all hot and heavy, or go further than just that. He just wants this-Dan and Phil-forever, even just as friends. He didn’t expect to find that in this pale, bible-banging weirdo, but now that he does he never wants to let him go.

Dan’s getting that feeling now more and more, the Dan and Phil feeling when they��re in the study group a few weeks later. They’re both sat towards the back, trying (and failing) to hold back laughter as they’re hunched over Dan’s Bible.

“I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in Pharaoh's chariots. Thy cheeks are comely with rows of jewels, thy neck with chains of gold. We will make thee borders of gold with studs of silver…” Phil says under his breath in a low, gravelly tone.

Dan turns to the next page. “O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely. Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes!” He whispers, still trying to make his voice sound high-pitched.

“Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead. Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which came up from-”

“Dan, Phil, I’m guessing you both are whispering about how excited you are about our retreat at Camp Brabeck?”

The two both fall silent, Dan quickly glancing between Phil and Caroline, her smile wearing a bit thin from having to call them out. Phil’s eyes are wide, suddenly all signs of laughter gone. “Camp Brabeck?” He squeaks out, and the leader nods.

“On our upcoming four-day weekend. It’s up North, so it’ll be a bit of a drive, but we’ve already got the vans rented out and everything.” She says before noticing Phil’s sudden change in demeanor. “Phil, you’re from around there, actually. Have you been before?”

Phil blinks a few times before nodding, curling up into his seat a little. “O-Oh. Well, I actually did, once, but-”

“Great! So you’ll be down to come, right? We’ve got more space in the van, and it’ll be fun…” Caroline says hopefully, not letting him argue as he starts shaking his head. “Plus, if you’ve already been there, you can tell us all about it! C’mon, this is right up your alley. I think you’ll-” “I’ll go if Dan does.” Phil blurts out suddenly, looking nervously over at. Dan’s definitely confused now-Phil loves the outdoors. He loves this group. He loves-well, to be fair, Phil seems to love most things. He’s racking his brain trying to figure out what it could be, but he just can’t, and now all eyes are on him, and-

“I mean...as long as someone brings bug spray.” Dan says slowly, Caroline beaming and writing on her clipboard before talking excitedly about the campground. The two stay quiet, Dan focusing on Phil’s eyes trained on her and hands gripping his Bible so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

The minute the group ends Phil makes a beeline to the door, walking so fast that Dan can’t catch up without actually chasing him. Dan’s phone dings a short moment later:

Sorry 2 run! Had 2 catch up w some1 4 a thing. Thx 4 signing up w me ^_^ - Phil!

Dan furrows his eyebrows, and not for the normal reason of Phil’s stupid abbreviations and the fact he insists upon signing all his texts. He’s trying to piece the pieces together from the few characters on his screen when Louise puts a hand on his shoulder. “So what was all that about?” She asks with a raised eyebrow, giggling a bit as she gives his arm a light squeeze. “What did you show him that spooked him so bad?” Before Dan can speak, Chris is at his side.

“He’s just embarrassed that Dan was flirting with him during the Jesus Power Hour.” “Dan, were you?” Louise gasped teasingly, and Dan sputters a bit, sliding his phone into his jacket pocket. “Chris-what?! No, no, I wasn’t flirting. I wasn’t! He just-when she mentioned the retreat-and the camp-” Dan’s face is bright red now, suddenly the words from Solomon seem a lot less goofy and a lot more...romantic, to outsiders, with their heads bowed together with dumb grins on their faces.

Louise and Chris shoot Dan equally doubtful looks. “Dan-” She starts, but Dan grits his teeth.

“We’re not-neither of us are like that.” He snaps. As she steps back and Chris raises an eyebrow, guilt starts to pool in his stomach, but he can’t stop. “For one, I’m not gay, and two, Phil is gonna be a priest, remember? Aren’t they, like, sworn to celibacy?”

Chris and Louise glance at each other. “Mate...chill, yeah? We were just joking. We know you’re not...y’know.” “Good.” Dan said before turning and stomping up the steps, the unnerving sense that the painting of Jesus had his eyes following him the whole way.

A few minutes later, Dan is sitting in the back garden of the church that Phil helps tend to after services, the wind whipping through his hair. Usually, he’d be walking to a Starbucks with Phil, discussing that session’s theme in-depth and watching Phil’s face turn pink as Dan releases the string of expletives he’s been holding in for an entire hour. The expletives are running through his head at top speed, as he spends about three minutes crafting the perfect text message.

hey, i’m sorry if i weirded you out today! didn’t mean to haha. i was goofing off way too much and i know you take these meetings p seriously. i’ll take it more seriously next time and not distract you

Dan hits send after rereading it about a million times, groaning audibly as he does. It’s not exactly a “Sorry I have a crush on you and made you seem gay but I get you’ll never like me and that’s fine I just wanna spend all my time with you”, but it’s the best he can do.

No worries! OMGosh I was just embarrassed 2 b called out like that hahaha! 0_o <= Literally my face. I was def the 1 who was whispering 2 loud. Lol! -Phil!

dude, it was totally on me. Dan texts back, chewing on his bottom lip. Phil had looked pretty freaked out, but if he was fine, maybe they could just...move past it? really, i started it.

Noooooooo! I take all the blame. I had some cookies b4 group and I was on major sugar rush. Btw...I had some of those cookies ur nan sent! Sorry, I’ll buy some snacks 4 us. Ask her to send more, tho? So good <3 Thank u! Take dancing men as an apology (/-_-)/ |(-_-|) -Phil!

okay, seriously, who taught you to text like this? my head hurts trying to decipher everything

DANCING MEN 4 U (/-_-)/ |(-_-\) ~(*-*)~ (/-_-)/ |(-_-\) -Phil!

you’re ridiculous. Dan can’t help but laugh, in spite of the churning feeling in his stomach. He drops his phone onto the grass next to him and looks up at the sky.

“If you know Phil so well, big guy, what do I do?” He asks before he can stop himself, before pausing. Half of him expects a thunderstorm to start, and him to get struck by lightning, or a rainbow to leap across the sky and the clouds to part to show Phil’s shining face as the sun. But after a few long moments of silence, Dan realizes he’s not going to get any divine intervention and groans.

“Well...let me know when you figure it out.”

The next couple of weeks go by quickly. Everything seems normal-they go to classes, they go to work, they go to group, they goof off. The four-day weekend creeps upon them, but before they know it the whole group is up at 6AM standing in front of a huge white van.

“This isn’t cult-ish at all.” PJ yawns, chucking his duffle bag into the trunk. Louise sips her coffee and squints over at Phil.

“This has to be a sin, you know. Not giving a girl her beauty sleep.” Usually, Phil would spout something about “being beautiful in His eyes”, but right now he’s getting the same sense of panic in his eyes that he had when the camp was first mentioned, laughing weakly as he adjusts his glasses. Dan is just awake enough to get the sense that Phil has been repressing the idea of the trip until this exact moment, but he also knows just how to fix it. He had been stockpiling on Phil knowledge for this exact moment.

Phil jumps a bit as Dan nudges him. “Relax. Listen, I know what’s up.” He says quietly, watching as his friend’s eyes widen and a blush spreads across his cheeks.

“What?!” Phil yelps a bit as Dan gently leads him away from the rest of the group. “I mean...what do you know? What’s up?” He asks quietly, fiddling with the strap of his messenger bag.

Dan holds back a fond noise as he smiles gently, shaking his head. “No need to be embarrassed, Phil. My mom went through the same thing for years.” As Phil looks more and more concerned, wringing his hands, Dan digs in his own backpack for a moment before pulling out a small box of Dramamine and handing it to him. “So you don’t upchuck all over us.”

There’s a beat as Phil stares down at the box, eyes wide, and Dan almost thinks he’s got it wrong. Does Phil not get carsick? Was he insulted? Was he really that embarrassed by it?

Phil finally starts to giggle, but it seems more relieved than anything. He nudges Dan lightly and opens his mouth to speak.

“Ah, Dan and Phil! The dynamic duo. You two can sit in the back with the bags!” Caroline’s voice cuts through whatever Phil’s about to say, and he turns to Dan with a small shrug.

“Looks like it’ll just be you I puke on.” He says, a slight grin on his face as he pulls the door open for Dan, who rolls his eyes but steps in “Gotta get you a poncho for the splash zone.” Dan gags playfully before squeezing in to sit next to Phil amongst all the bags, rolling his eyes and plugging his earbuds in before holding out one bud to Phil and turning on their shared playlist-a mix of indie, Christian rock, (mostly clean) emo jams, and Disney Channel top hits. It’s not the most welcoming thing to listen to at 6AM, but if it keeps Phil calm and Dan from actually needing a poncho, he’ll welcome it.

The majority of the drive is spent in and out of sleep for Dan, guitar chords and vocals bouncing around his sleep-deprived brain. He’s not fully conscious until around noon when they’re about an hour away from the camp. The roads are getting twisty, and it’s then that he notices that Phil has his eyes screwed shut and face scrunched up, both hands shoved into his messenger bag. It only takes a slight peek for Dan to see his fingers curled tightly around his well-worn Bible, and he bites his lip.

Phil talks about leaps of faith a lot in group. Dan doesn’t quite get it, but he’s pretty sure he’s taking one when he slides his hand into the other’s bag and gently coaxes Phil’s hand into his own. The young man stiffens up for a moment before turning to stare at Dan with wide eyes.

“Shush. It’ll help nausea.” Dan mumbles, his own face red and praying that Phil won’t ask how exactly it will. There’s a pause before Phil smiles weakly, turning his face away, and Dan is about five seconds away from opening the van door and hurtling himself onto the road.

Phil’s probably just been playing nice, and now Dan’s gone and made it uncomfortable for the both of them, and Phil can’t even look at him. Dan’s whole body turns hot, but right before he can pull away, he feels Phil’s slender fingers intertwine with his own.

It’s not the first time they’ve held hands-they do it at the start and end of study groups, and at church, and that one time Phil got them all to hold hands while standing on a hill to reenact the ending of High School Musical 2 for his Instagram. Dan was a bit flustered then, too. But this is different. It’s...intimate. Phil’s never held his hand with such need before, fingers locked with his and palm quivering gently as he mouths a silent “thank you.” Dan feels his entire body buzz, and he can’t help but close his eyes and try to focus on the music and not the fact that he feels like he’s literally twelve years old.

The rest of the ride somehow takes an eternity and only a minute before the van stops, Chris bemoaning his hunger loudly and the rest chattering excitedly. Phil finally opens his eyes and turns to Dan, slowly pulling his hand away.

They both look at their hands, and then back at each other. There’s a long pause before he opens his mouth, and Dan’s heart starts pounding so hard he’s surprised Phil can’t hear it.

All that Dan has thought about them staying platonic goes out the window. Dan wants nothing more than to lunge forward and shove his lips against Phil’s, to run his hands through his hair, to climb into his lap and- “I didn’t puke!” Phil blurts out loudly, loud enough that everyone hears. The group falls silent before one of the other young men, Raz, gives Phil a thumbs up. “Good for you, bud. C’mon, let’s get these bags up to the cabin, and then we can get some food to celebrate.” Phil laughs a bit too hard at that, face bright red. As he clamors out of the van he leaves Dan in the backseat, trying to climb over the mountain of bags as he watches his friend chatter away as if nothing happened. He watches for a moment before shaking his head quickly, trying to erase the memory from his mind. He was just making things more complicated than they needed to be. They didn’t share a moment. No way.

Dan hauls his bag over his shoulder and walks along with PJ and Lou, struggling to stop the loop of those ten seconds from playing in his head.

Dan liked that the Bible study group wasn’t too Jesus-y. It was more philosophical than anything. Even church was just an hour a week on the weeks he went, which was really only once a month when Phil promised brunch afterward.

This weekend, he and his friends had realized, seemed to be where the group could get enough Jesus to last them until the next retreat. It started with grace before lunch-simple enough. But then a pastor had started to preach to them during lunch. And then after lunch. And then afternoon Bible study-for two hours, with a lot more reading and praying than actual discussion. Pj, Chris, and Louise were clearly trying not to fall asleep, while Phil sat off a bit, eyes trained on either the priest or his Bible, hugging himself tightly as he stayed completely silent.

“It’s just so boring!” Louise groaned once they were all finally outside and out of earshot. “I’m sorry, I know this is what you want to do with the rest of your life, Phil, but we’re in nature! Why are we just stuck in some stuffy room listening to an old dude read for hours when we can see the cool stuff God apparently built for us?” “God wants me to climb some of those rocks over there.” PJ agreed, snapping a few pictures on his phone. “He tried to call me earlier to tell me so, but reception sucks here.”

Phil laughed a bit, but it’s definitely more hollow than his normal giggles. “I’m sorry, I-I really thought-”

“Wait. Haven’t you been here before?” Louise asked as PJ started jogging over to the huge rocks, Chris following shortly after. Phil paused before rubbing the back of his neck. “I-I mean, yeah, but-”

They’re both cut off by someone calling Phil’s name, and he whirls around to see the priest-the same “old dude” Louise had just been insulting-walk over and clap a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “Philip, you must have grown a full foot since I last saw you!” Dan glances over at Phil with a slightly surprised look. He knew Phil had been here before, sure. But to know this man? Someone who seemed so different from Phil in so many ways?

“O-Oh, Father Richard. Hey. Guys, Father Richard worked at the camp I came to a-a couple of years ago.” “And Philip was one of the finest boys there, wasn’t he?” If the man notices Phil shift from one foot to the other nervously, he sure doesn’t show it. “I mean, they were all wonderful young men, don’t get me wrong. But Philip-you’re truly going to be a man of the cloth. Don’t you both think?” Dan is watching Father Richard’s face closely, immediately feeling himself wanting to leave the conversation as soon as possible. If it wasn’t for Phil, he’d have made an excuse and walked off by now. It seems like Louise isn’t thrilled, either, but she smiles and nods a bit. “It’s clearly his passion, uh, Father Richard.”

“Oh, absolutely. As long as he keeps his head out of the clouds.” He throws his head back and laughs, Phil’s grin looking more like a grimace as he chuckles along. “I swear, this boy would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to him!” “I think Phil’s pretty smart, actually.” Dan says suddenly, a good bit of bite to his tone. He’s not sure why, but something about this guy gives him the creeps. He stares him in the eyes as he gets a surprised look from both him and Phil.

After a moment, he clears his throat. “Well...I suppose he’s matured a lot over the past two years. Good to see you again, boy. We’ll have to catch up.” With that he heads off, giving Dan a slightly curious look as he does so, and Phil watches him go before shaking his head.

“Jeez. Phil Lester Fan Club over here.” Louise teased gently before frowning. “What’s his deal?” Phil bit his lip and sighed. “That’s how he is.” He explained quietly, yelping as Louise pulled him into a tight hug.

“Philly…” She cooed before moving to sit on the grass with him, motioning for Dan to do the same. “Talk to us? You’re not usually closed off like this. We know something’s up.” Phil squirms, and Dan can tell he’s debating whether or not to lie. He’s seen it before-when Chris asked if he looked good in his new neon t-shirt, or when some girl asked him once if she was being too annoying after complaining about her roommate to them for five minutes straight. “I just...I came to this camp when I was younger and had different ideas than I do now.” He explains finally.

“Like how interesting that Richard guy was?” Dan tries to joke, instantly regretting it as Phil brings his knees to his chest and curls up into himself.

His voice gets quiet, as it does sometimes when things get serious in group meetings and he’s comforting someone with a verse or trying to explain a tough concept to Dan.

“Like...I was raised to think God ruled with a vengeance. If you sinned in any way, He would punish you. That’s what my parents said. We were supposed to fear Him, y’know? And when I came here...Father Richard pushed that hard.” Phil explained gently. “But I don’t think God’s like that. I think we’re all sinners-we all make mistakes. James 3:2 and all that. God loves us in spite of our flaws. Hearing him talk about God like he was so cruel, and then reading about His love for us...it was the first time it didn’t add up for me.”

Dan’s eyes widened. In all his time of knowing Phil-two months doesn’t sound like much, but it feels like a lifetime ago-he’s never once heard him speak against his parent’s beliefs. Sure, he could admit that they were a bit extreme at times, but it was always quickly followed with how their intentions were good and that everything had been great.

“And as someone who wants to be a priest, I don’t think the way to get people to turn to God is to scream at them until they repent and scare them into not sinning. I think you need to be like Jesus. Hate the sin, love the sinner.” He continued, forcing a tiny smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Because we’re all His children, after all. And He’s got a path for all of us-fear won’t guide us onto that.”

There’s a moment of silence before Louise reaches down, giving his hair an affectionate tousle. “You start preaching like that and I’ll come to your church every Sunday. I’ll even sing in the choir.” She joked. A slow beam spread across Phil’s face-a a genuine one, and he stood up before pulling her into a tight hug.

“Thank you.” He whispered. “Thank you both. I-If I had known he would’ve been here, I’d have at least warned you-”

“Shush, mate. You had no idea. Trust me, you’re way too much of a softie to lie to us, we know that.” Dan laughed a bit, giving Phil’s back a light pat. Phil giggled a bit before pulling away, taking a deep breath.

“Wanna go make sure Chris and Peej don’t crack their heads open?” He said finally, and before they could say anything the two of them were taking off towards the rocks, Dan chasing after both of them. Despite his grin, he still couldn’t help but feel like his head was heavy with questions. Father Richard had seemed boring, and a bit grumpy, but not angry. Were Phil’s changing beliefs really all that had happened?

Phil had seemed relieved to talk for a bit, but the mood shifted again once evening activities started. Father Richard had preached again during dinner-and again, nothing terrible happened. He made a few dry jokes, he talked about having “complete and total faith”, he read some long passages that Dan didn’t care about. He was too busy glancing over at Phil next to him, who had left his food practically untouched.

Then there are evening vespers, with Phil’s hands clenched together so tightly in prayer that his knuckles turn white and his fingernails dig into the skin. The firepit seems to be going well-he shares a s’more with Dan, but before he could get another he’s pulled aside by Father Richard. Dan’s sure at one point the two glance over at Dan, but then Phil’s walking back over, trying to look interested in some story one of the group members is telling as he brings his knees to his chest. Even Chris and PJ seem to notice that something’s going on, but with a pointed look from Dan, they give him some space.

They turn in for the night, but Dan wakes up way too early to find Phil curled up on his bunk pouring over his Bible. The bags under his eyes tell Dan that he didn’t sleep a wink last night, and he sighs. “C’mon, you gotta show me where the showerhouse is.” He says gently, and Phil looks up at him with a tired laugh. “Do I?” He teased weakly. After a minute though, he sits up and stretches. “Mmm...fine. But no chickening out.” With that he hops down from the bunk, peeling off his shirt before walking over to his bag.

Dan’s pretty sure he gulps audibly as Phil grabs a change of clothes and a towel, eyes wandering over him. Though Phil braved the communal showers at Uni, he was always sure to change in the stall-Dan had never seen him in so much as a pair of shorts that went higher than his knees. And yet, here he was. Dan would feel guilty about watching him, especially considering he knew Phil was having a tough time, but…

He couldn’t help it. His best friend looked hot as hell from behind. He couldn’t help but admire his slim frame, his lean but toned arms, and when he turned around, the slight smattering of chest hair that slowly turned into a happy trail that crept lower, into-

“I’m telling you now, if you forget a towel you’ll regret it.” He said, voice still low from sleep, and Dan snapped his head up. “Towel! Right! Let me go grab that.” He squeaked and quickly moved to grab it, trying to hide his flushed cheeks as he snagged a change of clothes as well. By the time he looked up Phil was already heading for the door, humming under his breath, and Dan followed him quickly.

After a few moments of silence, Phil spoke. “Father Richard is leaving tonight, so you won’t have to sit through his lectures after today. He’s just stopping by to talk to us. So we’ll have less worship-y stuff and more free time tomorrow.” Phil glanced over at Dan. “Sorry if I’m weird about it. I just..y’know.”

Dan nodded and relaxed into the shared feeling of relief, even if he didn’t exactly know what Phil was talking about. Before he could ask, though, they were at the small building-just a row of four stalls that looked like bathroom stalls, built out of wood. As Dan stepped inside and stripped-definitely not thinking about how Phil was doing the same just inches away, especially as he heard his sweatpants hit the ground-he rubbed his eyes. “Is there coffee here?”

“Oh, trust me, you don’t need coffee here.” Phil laughed a bit, a genuine one, and Dan raised an eyebrow, glancing over at where his head peeked over the stall.

“Dude, I’ve seen you-sweet fuck!” Dan shrieked as he turned the single knob on and freezing cold water shot out of a showerhead on the ceiling. “How the fuck do you get the hot water?!”

Phil was really laughing now, his witch cackle carrying over Dan’s screams. “No hot water at camp.” He sang playfully. “And no swearing, either, but-”

“Christ on a bike, no wonder you were fucking miserable here!” The words come out before he can realize it, and suddenly he freezes (as well as he can while shivering like mad), but Phil only laughs harder.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Dan can hear the grin in his voice, and he lets out a long breath. “Whatever. Shitting fucking fuck! Let’s get this over with.”

Dan somehow manages to survive the worst shower of his life, his hair curling as he towels himself off before tugging on clothes and leaving the showerhouse. If it wasn’t for the bright smile on Phil’s face, he’d say it wasn’t worth it. But at least for right now, Phil is his old, giggly self again, and Dan comes to the realization he’d do just about anything to keep him like that.

Unfortunately for Dan, it doesn’t last long. As they’re walking back to the cabin, Phil glances across the way and sees Father Richard, walking through the trees. “Oh, shoot, c’mon-” Phil grabs Dan’s arm and tugs him along a bit faster, not looking behind him for nearly a full minute. As he glances over and sees the look on Dan’s face he finally stops, sighing softly. The joy from before is gone. “Sorry. I just...too early to try to handle that right now.” “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s just get going to the cabin, yeah? I’m still freezing.” Dan jokes weakly, and Phil tries to crack a smile, still looking uncomfortable as they walk along the trail in silence.

The rest of the day is disturbingly similar to yesterday, and the whole group is sensing that Phil is just...off. He’s usually eager to jump into discussions, but even when Father Richard gives them the chance to talk, Phil seems totally holed up in himself, mumbling something about wanting to give others a time to speak (which pushes the topic along to Louise, who fumbles it totally and is earned a condescending smile from Father Richard).

By lunch, Dan thinks he can’t sit through another hour of this. By mid-afternoon, he’s considering faking being possessed by Satan. And by dinner, he’s come up with about forty ways to fake the possession. The only reason keeping him from doing so is that when he mutters it to PJ he tells him to wait until after dinner-if he keeps Chris from food, he’ll have bigger things to worry about than a camp full of religious fanatics thinking he’s possessed.

They set the tables and then get in line to eat dinner. Dan immediately realizes Phil isn’t anywhere to be found, exchanging concerned looks with Louise. When they get five minutes into dinner and realize that Father Richard is also missing, he starts to worry.

What if Father Richard was...well, what would he do?

The truth is, Dan doesn’t know what the big deal is with this guy. He honestly doesn’t seem to be too bad, but the control he has over Phil’s emotions is genuinely weird. Still, he doesn’t want to cause a scene.

“Hey, Caroline!” He says, quickly jogging over to the young woman, and she gives Dan a kind smile. “Dan, hey! How have you been enjoying this so far?” She asked gently, resting a hand on his arm. “I know it can be intense, considering your, um...well, you weren’t exactly in the church before you joined us, and-”

“Caroline, it’s all great, but do you know where Phil is?”

She smiles and gives Dan’s arm a squeeze. “I’m so glad you two found each other, you know that? You guys are like-”

“Caroline.”

“Okay, okay. I won’t be mushy, even if you guys are my favorite freshmen.” She winked before waving her hand towards the door. “He’s out by the lake with Father Rich. They go way back, did you know?”

Dan nods slowly. It’s clearly not the answer he wanted, because Caroline leans in. “Don’t tell him I said this, but trust me, Phil’s not choosing Father Richard over you. You’re still his BFF.”

Wonderful. That’s the reassurance he needed right now, that Phil wasn’t going to choose a 65-year-old man to be his ‘BFF”. He manages to smile and thank Caroline before going to wait on the mess hall deck. If Richard was going to drag Phil away, then dammit, he was going to be the first to talk to him when he got back.

Phil doesn’t come back up to the mess hall for at least another hour. His eyes are rimmed red, and he’s alone. The second Dan hears his footsteps he shoots up. “Phil!” He shouts after he yanks his earbuds out, and Phil lets out a yelp, laughing shakily. “Oh my God, did he-did he make you cry?!”

Phil rubs his eyes quickly and giggles weakly. “Dan, I cry at everything. We cried together over that muffin in the dining hall on Wednesday, remember?”

Dan doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, but suddenly Phil’s arms are pulling him into a long hug. “We just had a long talk. Don’t tell me I missed anything?”

“They went on some dumb night hike, but-don’t tell me you wanted to go on the night hike?” He asked as he saw the disappointment on Phil’s face, frowning. “We can go! We can go right now, and meet them, and-” “Dan. Breathe, okay?” He giggled and led Dan inside. “Our group can go on our own little night hike tomorrow, I’ll survive. Besides. I haven’t gotten to spend time with you these past couple of days, and I’ve missed you.” Phil’s voice is a bit softer, and he gives him a shy smile.

Dan’s face turns red and he sits down in one of the faded couches, Phil flopping next to him. “It’s only been, like, a day and a half.” He mumbles.

“It’s been a long day and a half.” Dan nods slowly, looking up at Phil. “Is he gone?” “Yep. Just left camp now. Didn’t wanna make a fuss.” Dan can’t help but roll his eyes a bit at that, shaking his head. “Now, c’mon. Can we talk about something fun? Like…” He reaches out and snatches up an old copy of Women’s Health from a bin by the fireplace, clearly meant for kindling. “What advice can we find for two lovely women like ourselves?”

As he flutters his eyelashes at him, Dan can’t help but laugh, grabbing the magazine from him. The two swap it back and forth, giggling like children at the stupid advice and making fun of all the pictures. The tension from before melts away, and suddenly it’s just Dan and Phil, the two of them being absolute idiots and laughing over nothing. After the last day and a half, it feels amazing to just laugh.

When they finish that one they go to the next one in the bin. They read through issues of Runner’s World, Golf Digest, Christian Living, Better Homes and Gardens, and even a Highlights before Phil’s stomach lets out a loud growl.

“Oooh, I need some food. Why don’t I go grab us some snacks from the kitchen? There’s some board games in one of the closets, find something for us to play?”

With that, he’s up and going into the kitchen, and Dan wanders over to one of the closet doors. Sure enough, he sees some old board game boxes peeking out behind some moving boxes. Dan goes to move one out of the way when he catches a peek of the pile of brochures inside. His eyes run over the text and clip-art outline of a strong-looking man. Program Judges 6:12 at Camp Brabeck: For teen boys and young men struggling with sexual impurity.

Sexual impurity? Dan grabs the brochure and flips it open.

Today, our young men are raised in a culture where abnormal lifestyles are being accepted, even praised and celebrated. It’s no wonder that more youth than ever before are turning out oversexualized and confused, and more than ever are struggling with same-sex desires...

From there on, the words start to blur together for Dan, and he flips the brochure over.

And then Dan sees it. In the top corner is Father Richard, smiling wide.

With his hand on Phil’s shoulder.

Dan feels his stomach churn violently as he looks at younger Phil. There’s no way it could be anyone else. Even if he’s a bit shorter, and his hair isn’t dyed, Dan’s studied Phil’s face long enough to know it’s him. As Dan grips the picture frame in his hands, Phil’s words from yesterday come back to him, hitting his chest like rocks.

“Hate the sin, love the sinner.”

Phil worked with Father Richard, at this-this “camp”, this place. They worked together.

“God loves us in spite of our flaws.”

Not only was Phil not gay, thus extinguishing the slightest bit of hope he had, but Phil was actively homophobic. Phil worked at a bloody conversion therapy site, for fuck’s sake.

“He’s got a path for all of us.”

Phil wasn’t uncomfortable about Father Richard-he was uncomfortable about Dan and their friends being around Father Richard, and them finding out just what a homophobic, lying, fake-

“I found Pop-Tarts!”

Phil’s voice interrupts the swirling thoughts in his head, and he slowly turns, holding the brochure up. “Were you ever going to mention this?” Phil’s face goes pale. “I...Where did you…” He whispers, but Dan growls. Actually growls. Red hot anger is taking control now as days, weeks, months, years of suffocated emotions rises to the top suddenly. A lifetime of not fitting in, a lifetime of hiding, and to be rejected by Phil-like this.

“Nice pic of you and your friend, Phil. You worked with him on this? You and Richard, two pals-and you knew we’d judge you for it, so you just decided not to tell us?!”

“Wait, wait, Dan, no. It’s not like that. That’s not what-” Phil tries to butt in. Dan isn’t having it.

“Do you realize what kind of damage you do to people, Phil?! You can’t act like-like Little Mr. Innocent about this, this is some seriously fucked up shit you’ve done!” Dan’s properly yelling now, getting to his feet and not even stopping as Phil cowers back. “And-And worst of all, you hid it from us! You talk like you love everyone, hiding behind your stupid flowery language, but you’re a total fucking hateful dick!”

Phil suddenly stands as well, putting his hands in front of his chest, but irritation is creeping into his voice. “Daniel. Listen to me, you don’t understand. I’m not hateful-” “Oh-Oh yeah? Not hateful, huh? Not hateful when you say ‘gay is an artificial construct, created to celebrate people’s sinful homosexual desires’? Or when your stupid fucking camp goes to ‘remove young men from their unhealthy environment to bring them to Jesus and see the errors they’re making’?” Dan’s reading directly from the pamphlet now. “That doesn’t sound loving, Phil!”

“Dan, let me-” “There is literally nothing you could say to make this better. You think you’re helping, don’t you? But you’re just-just spreading hate, and-” Dan’s words are cut off as Phil suddenly grabs him by the back of his head, pulling him into a hard kiss. For possibly the first time in his life, Dan is rendered speechless, especially a few moments later when Phil pulls away and his eyes well up.

“Dan…” He choked out, sinking down onto the couch and starting to sob. “I didn’t-I didn’t-” After a moment he grabs the brochure weakly. “I didn’t work at the camp.” He chokes out finally, and Dan just stands frozen in place. “I was a camper.”

Dan hates that he doesn’t know whether he should trust him or not. But...this is Phil, crying ugly, hard sobs, and he can’t help but feel his heart break in two. “A...camper?” He asks slowly, moving to sit next to him but keeping his distance.

Phil lets out a pained noise but nods. “I signed up to go. Because I kept having these-these dreams, and these urges. And I thought if I did everything right, if I listened to Father R-Richard…” He has to stop himself to catch his breath as it comes quicker, curling into himself and resting his head on his knees. “I thought if I could be perfect, I could b-be like him. A priest. A husband, to a wife. A father to my k-kids. An ex-homosexual.” He said, tears streaming down his face. “Dan, I-I tried so hard…” Dan frowns, running a hand through his hair slowly. “You can’t just-I mean, I don’t think it works like that, Phil,” Dan says after a moment, and Phil nods quickly. “I know, I know. God knows I know. They tried everything on m-me. I mean, everything. But the more they did, the more angry I got, with myself, with Richard, with God. I hated God, Dan, I hated him so much, and I did all this stuff…” Dan can’t stop himself but reaching out and taking his hand at that, and Phil clings to it almost instantly. “I lied, and I ripped up my Bible, and I did stuff with the other guys there…”

Dan blinked a few times. For Phil, that was intense, and he can hear the guilt and true sorrow in his voice. “You-I mean, no offense, but kissing a few guys and tearing up a book aren’t exactly unforgivable sins.” He says, hoping to bring him comfort. To his surprise, Phil laughs sadly.

“I did more than just kiss, trust me. When Richard found me in the showers with one of the guys-”

At that Dan’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. Phil, who half an hour ago was blushing at ads for tampons, in the showers with a guy? “He-He decided I needed more intense therapy. It was hours and hours of just being told how disgusting I was, being shown these videos, being preached at, b-but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop feeling like I did.”

“Phil…” Dan feels his broken heart finally crumble. He pulls him into a hug, letting him sob into his hair.

“F-Finally I just lied my way th-through it. That’s what m-most of us do. And then I was th-the big success story, and they took that dumb picture, and it was finally over. I went home, and I was so mad I decided I’d go through my Bible-the nice, new one my parents had bought me, when they heard that ‘somebody’ tore up my old one-to s-see how wrong I was before and how terrible He was. So I stayed up for nearly a week, no school, no nothing. Just reading.”

Phil pulled away to reach out, grabbing his copy of the Bible from his bag “ And as I read, I…”

He took a deep breath as he opened it up and slowly turned the pages, motioning to the Post-Its and notes littering the scripture. “I didn’t find that. I found a God that wanted me to love-He wanted me to love my family, and my friends, and my neighbors, and-and guys. He wanted me to love you. He wanted me to love you, romantically.” At that, Dan feels his heart stop and he gently moves to look Phil in the eyes. “You really think that?” He whispered, Phil nodding quickly as he ran a hand through Dan’s hair.

“God gave us all the ability to love-fully, and deeply, and wonderfully. And-And I love you, so much. I didn’t want to freak you out, and I’m not ready to be out, but-” This time it’s Dan’s turn to cut him off with a slower, gentler kiss. “Shh. We don’t have to tell anyone.” He murmured.

“It can just be us?” Phil asked in a small voice. “Just you and me?”

At that, Dan is pretty sure he’s going to explode, because dear God that’s all he’s ever wanted. He wants to scream, he wants to jump up and down, he wants to run down the fucking mountain and throw rocks at Father Richard’s car-

Instead, Dan takes a deep breath before smiling and nodding. “Just me and you.” He agreed quietly.

He leaned in and kissed Phil again, cupping his cheeks. This time was gentler, and Phil let out a soft, relieved noise as his lips moved against Dan’s and he pulled Dan close to him.

“I love you,” Dan says once they pull away. “I love you, I love you, I love you-”

“Have I ever read you Proverbs 17:28?” Phil interrupts with a giggle. Dan raises an eyebrow but grabs Phil’s Bible, flipping to it.

Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding.

“Did you just ask me to shut up and keep kissing you through a Bible verse?!” Dan whined, but he can’t help but grin as Phil kept laughing, nodding as he connected their lips again.

Time seems to stand still. Two minutes, five minutes, ten minutes, ten hours, ten years-Dan can only guess how much time has passed when they hear the group off in the distance. “Shit-shit, okay, one last-” Dan jerked away but Phil giggled, grabbing the plate of Pop-Tarts and Dan’s hand before dragging him outside. He took him out a bit before they got down to the lake, sitting on the sand and wrapping his arms around Dan. Dan pauses before shyly climbing into his lap, and then they’re kissing again, Phil only pausing to catch his breath and murmur “I’m sorry you thought I could be homophobic.” “I’m sorry I didn’t ask before jumping to conclusions.” “I’m sorry I didn’t open up about what had happened.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you away from Father Richard.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you away from Father Richard.” “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been that guy in the showers with you.” The words leave Dan’s mouth before he can stop himself-humor is a coping mechanism for him, but right now, he wants to kick himself when he hears Phil’s gasp.

“Oi! Not yet, at least.” He said with a slight laugh, pressing his lips to Dan’s cheek and watching as his face burns red. He grins and presses a few pecks to his lips before looking up at the sky.

“...You really think God wants this for us?” Dan says and Phil closes his eyes, snuggling closer.

“‘For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Psalm 139:113 to 114’.” Phil recited quietly. “God made us fearfully-like, with great awe and respect of us-and wonderfully. He made us find each other, he made us love each other.” He kissed Dan’s nose. “So that’s us. Fearfully and wonderfully made.” Dan looks at Phil with a soft smile, a bit worn from all the excitement of the day, but feeling...free. “Fearfully and wonderfully, huh?”

Phil nods, and Dan pulls him even closer.

“I could get used to that.”

#phan #dan howell #phil lester #dan and phil #phanfiction #phanfic #phanfic au

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hattibroski · 3 years

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(Fanfic continues. Sorry that it’s short, I can’t type a lot.)

“Yes, I can ensure you the doorbell wor.............” Yakko’s eyes widened to the size of saucers as he stared at the 3. He carefully stepped out and walked over to Whimsy. He poked her nose. Whimsy covered it and blushed. “Hey!!! I’m not a doorbell!!” Yakko stepped back a little. “Hey Dot!! Can you come here?! I THINK Wakko put Haldol into my coffee again!!” Dot came out adjusting her flower. “No, this time it was Tegretol. It’ll wear off in an hour or so. Not sure what “off” is, but must be the latest fashion.” Dot looked at Hatti, Whimsy and Brassi an..... “HI! I’M DOT! Don’t call me Dotty, or I’ll hurt you and you’ll like it! Who are you?! Why do you look like us?! Oh, who cares, do you want my number or do you wanna move in?! I don’t mind, really, my bed is large enough for 2!” ...and she raced over to Brassi faster than I can tell the story. Geez! Brassi didn’t look surprised for long, because a grin spread over his face. “Huh, well I’m Brassi and I have to think about that....but probably not for long.” Both of them were just grinning at each other batting their eyelashes.

Yakko realized they weren’t hallucinations and he inhaled, getting ready to flirt with Whimsy, but she poked him in the chest with her index finger. “Since when do you live here?! How come I’ve never seen you before?! First of all, I’m Whimsy, nice to meet you.” Yakko shook her hand. “I’m Yakko, so lovely to meet you, too.” Hatti interrupted carefully. “Well, we have mostly stayed inside the bus and just recently moved here, so....”

“Guys, what’s going on out here...? I thought we were gonna play extreme Twister!” Wakko finally decided to make his presence. Hatti’s head turned from looking at Whimsy towards Wakko. Wakko looked back at her. Hatti felt her face getting oddly hot and tingly. Her heart started to race! And since there was no one else racing against it, it won!! Yes, it’s getting a trophy and lots of pictures taken and it won a trip into the throat!! .....hrm..... Anyway, Wakko felt weird and just blushed, waving over at her. It was indeed odd that he didn’t rush over to say ‘hi’.

Yakko noticed his brother standing there, waving at Hatti, maybe just 5 feet away from her. “They are real, they’re just strange and have an attitude, except for that guy.” He thumbed at Brassi. “I think him and Dot are planning their honeymoon. They already discussed the wedding.” “I know they’re real! If it was a dream there’d be cheese floating around and they’d turn into giant pasta, onion, ketchup and walnut sandwiches topped with raspberry jam! Also, I would’ve woken up by now......and I’m really glad I haven’t...” “First of all, maybe you shouldn’t eat weird things before bed and secondly, why haven’t you introduced yourself yet, I mean, she’s cute, right?” Wakko pulled his hat over his head. “C...cute?” Yakko blinked. “What’s up with you?!”

Hatti seemed to be stunned. Her vision had turned pink and she felt an overwhelming feeling of bliss. Whimsy was still poking Yakko’s chest, but looked at her siblings acting weird, then she turned back towards Yakko. She lowered her hand. “Well, it seems like you guys....” “...AND GIRL!!” Dot interrupted. “Heh.....and girl.....are pretty nice. Maybe I can get used to you.” Whimsy smiled. Yakko grinned. “Would not mind if you got more than just used to me.” He clicked his tongue and winked.

Whimsy felt herself blush. “I...I.....um.....” “Cat got yer tongue?” Yakko asked a bit concerned. Whimsy opened her mouth and pulled out a kitten, then threw it behind her. “Yup, aren’t they annoying? So hairy, too!” Yakko invited everyone in for tea. Whimsy tried to get Hatti to move, but she absolutely did not react. Brassi and Dot were talking about god and the world while walking into the water tower. “And I guess that’s how god created all animals.” Brassi explained. Dot nodded at him, holding onto his arm, swooning. “He should’ve used play-doh. Much softer, smells better and isn’t as cold.”

“Hatti... Hey, Hatti?” Whimsy waved her hand in front of Hatti’s face. “HATTI!!!” Hatti snapped out of it and turned bright red. “I.....I don’t know if I can handle this....” Whimsy looked from Hatti over at Wakko, who was mumbling unknown words from under his hat. She walked over to him. “Hrm, excuse me, but you are aware that you turned my sister into some kinda zombie, right?” Yakko grabbed Wakko and carried him inside like a surfboard. “I’ll just wait for you inside, cutie!”

Whimsy twitched and talked to herself. “I can’t believe he called me a cutie......” Hatti rubbed her arms. “Well, maybe because you’re cute?” “Yeah, I know, but I’m not even wearing something.....girly....” Whimsy looked at her hoodie. Hatti smiled. “Just means he’d like you no matter what!” Whimsy smiled lightly and got ready to go inside. “Hey, weren’t you like, almost not able to talk a second ago?” Hatti blushed again and her ears drooped. “OH! Right.......” She followed Whimsy inside.

They both spotted the others sitting around a table, with teacups in front of them that barely had anything in them. Whimsy laughed. “Man, you guys drink your tea fast.” Dot spoke up. “We haven’t even started! Everyone just asked for a SPOT of tea.” Whimsy sat down, next to Yakko. “Oh...” She looked at her teacup. “But all jokes aside here.....” Wakko jumped up! “OKAY!!” He rushed to the side and literally pushed a pile of funny sentences away. Whimsy continued. “I really love my tea, so, please, fill up this cup.” Yakko set the tea kettle down in front of her. “How about this?” Whimsy happily grabbed the kettle and drank from it.

Brassi looked at his sister in awe. “I believe he expected you to pour yourself a cup. You’re so silly sometimes, Whimsy..... You forgot to put honey in it.” “OH, RIGHT!!” Whimsy grabbed the honey and poured it all into the kettle. Yakko laughed. “Well, looks like we need to get more honey from the store. “I’LL GO!!” Wakko raised his hand high in the air. Yakko smiled at him. “We don’t need THAT much Honey, Wakko. Wakko pouted and looked the other way. He didn’t even notice he was sitting next to Hatti, who had buried her face in her arms. “AH! Well....guess I’ll just sit here......next to her.......which I’ve been doing......and not noticed.” Wakko turned red.

Hatti looked up and they stared at each other for a second before turning the other way. Brassi couldn’t help but laugh at his sister. “Yup, she sooo totally doesn’t like him. That’s why she does that, you see....” He looks over at Yakko. “Holy cow....” Yakko looked at a cow with wings and a halo. “...I really gotta milk you soon, your utters look like they’re gonna burst.” He turned towards Wakko and Hatti and smirked. “Come on you two! Introduce yourselves!”

Hatti and Wakko slowly turned around, swallowing. They grabbed each others hand to shake them, but instead sparks started flying. Li-ter-all-y. The others all ducked down. Wakko seemed to be a little bit braver, so he finally said.... “I’m Wakko.....” Hatti inhaled and squeaked. “I’m Hatti...”

#animaniacs #wakko warner #wakko #hatti #kkhw #knickknackhattiwakk #yakko #yakko warner #Whimsy #Brassi #Dot #dot warner #oh hi there

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neonun-au · 3 years

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get to know me tag game~

tagged by: @nctsworld & @nochv

tagging: @mars-maybe @itsapapisongo @hy-ck-main @hchan @itsapapisongo @sunflowerforhaechan and anyone else who is interested~

what day is your birthday? june 30 baybee

what’s your favourite colour? bright oranges and yellows and also brown.

what’s your lucky number? i genuinely never think about it so i don’t have any. maybe 11 since it’s my lifepath number or smth idk

do you have any pets? in my heart i have hundreds. but no

how tall are you? 5′6/5′7 idk something around that

how many pairs of shoes do you own? five or six? minus a few i need to get rid of. but mostly i exclusively wear my blundstones and my pair of toms that are falling apart lol

favourite song? this is impossible to answer but god only knows by the beach boys is a constant for me

favourite movie? lord of the rings lol also the shining and pride & prejudice

what would be your ideal partner? what would be? a really nice shiba inu that becomes my partner in crime

do you want children? i don’t think so. too many reasons not to and i think it’s better to err on that side of caution rather than just assume everything would work out

have you gotten in trouble with the law? someone called the cops on me once when i was walking down the highway home from work one night. they thought i was up to mischief. maybe cow tipping. (also no, no i have not been lol)

bath or shower? shower. i do love baths but only if its in a good bathtub

what colour socks are you wearing? flesh socks

favourite type of music? i need variety in music so anything. i do have most of my roots in rock and the like, though

how many pillows do you sleep with? one pillow and one shark

what position do you sleep in? stomach, one leg up cause my thighs are thicc

what you don’t like when you’re sleeping? light, noise, heat, everything

what do you have for breakfast? i don’t eat breakfast

have you ever tried archery? no but i really want to start axe throwing when i move to the city

favourite fruit? watermelon. but i don’t eat much fruit

favourite swear word? none of them im an angel

do you have any scars? i have one scar on my forearm from where my dog scratched me once <3 also a biopsy scar on my arm, but that’s it

are you a good liar? i would say so, yes

what’s your personality type? infj although it’s from that 16personalities site which i have heart isn’t exactly that reliable in terms of cognitive typing. also im more of an astrology gal

what’s your favourite type of girl? i didn’t realise there were ‘types’ of girls

innie or outie? innie

left or right handed? right

favourite food? anything made of potatoes. good, creamy, garlic mashed potatoes

favourite foreign food? foreign to me as a canadian? poutine (jk)

are you clean or messy? depends on the mental emotional landscape of the time

most used phrase? ‘fair enough’

how long does it take for you to get ready? idk depends what i’m doing. in the mornings i roll out of bed for work and get ready in 5 minutes

do you talk to yourself? literally all the time

do you sing to yourself? yes ofc

are you a good singer? depends what you consider ‘good’

biggest fear? never living up to my full potential/wasting away all of my time in indecision and fear

are you a gossip? sure, sometimes. everyone is. gossip serves a very important evolutionary and social function

do you like long or short hair? whatever looks best on the person. for myself i like both depending on what im most annoyed with at the time

favourite school subject? any of the humanities

extrovert or introvert? introvert

what makes you nervous? phone calls

who was your first real crush? i really liked this boy in the 4th grade called shawn. he was v cute

how many piercings do you have? just my ears atm

how fast can you run? not fast i can’t even remember the last time i ran anywhere. it has probably been years lol

what colour is your hair? right now it’s just a dark brown

what colour are your eyes? green/blue

what makes you angry? coming into work after two days off and seeing the desk in a disaster and an inbox full of L&F inquiries that no one bothered to touch while i was gone

do you like your own name? i don’t have any qualms with it

do you want a boy or a girl as a child? a dog

what are your strengths? beats me lol maybe a rather objective perspective

what are your weaknesses? too objective, often impersonal

what’s the colour of your bedspread? yelloooowww

colour of your room? a supremely unfortunate shade of mauve that i cannot wait to leave behind :)

#mads.txt #tag game

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betterdaysareatoenailaway · 3 years

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Random Review #3: Sleepwalkers (1992) and “Sleep Walk” (1959)

I. Sleepwalkers (1992) I couldn’t sleep last night so I started watching a trashy B-movie penned by Stephen King specifically for the screen called Sleepwalkers (1992). Simply put, the film is an unmitigated disaster. A piece of shit. But it didn’t need to be. That’s what’s so annoying about it. By 1992 King was a grizzled veteran of the silver screen, with more adaptations under his belt than any other author of his cohort. Puzo had the Godfather films (1972 and 1974, respectively), sure, but nothing else. Leonard Gardner had Fat City (1972), a movie I love, but Gardner got sucked into the Hollywood scene of cocaine and hot tub parties and never published another novel, focusing instead on screenplays for shitty TV shows like NYPD Blue. After Demon Seed (1977), a movie I have seen and disliked, nobody would touch Dean Koontz’s stuff with a ten foot pole, which is too bad because The Voice of the Night, a 1980 novel about two young pals, one of whom is a psychopath trying to convince the other to help him commit murder, would make a terrific movie. But Koontz’s adaptations have been uniformly awful. The made-for-TV film starring John C McGinley, 1997′s Intensity, is especially bad. There are exceptions, but Stephen King has been lucky enough to avoid the fate of his peers. Big name directors have tackled his work, from Stanley Kubrick to Brian De Palma. King even does a decent job of acting in Pet Semetary (1989), in his own Maximum Overdrive (1986) and in George Romero’s Creepshow (1982), where he plays a yokel named Jordy Verril who gets infected by a meteorite that causes green weeds to grow all over his body. Many have criticized King’s over-the-top performance in that flick, but for me King perfectly nails the campy and comical tone that Romero was going for. The dissolves in Creepshow literally come right off the pages of comics, so people expecting a subtle Ordinary People-style turn from King had clearly walked into the wrong theatre. Undoubtedly Creepshow succeeds at what it set out to do. I’m not sure Sleepwalkers succeeds though, unless the film’s goal was to get me to like cats even more than I already do. But I already love cats a great deal. Here’s my cat Cookie watching me edit this very blog post.

And here’s one of my other cats, Church, named after the cat that reanimates and creeps out Louis and Ellie in Pet Sematary. Photo by @ScareAlex.

SPOILER ALERT: Do not keep reading if you plan on watching Sleepwalkers and want to find out for yourself what happens.

Stephen King saw many of his novels get adapted in the late 1970s and 80s: Carrie, The Shining, Firestarter, Christine, Cujo, and the movie that spawned the 1950s nostalgia industrial complex, Stand By Me, but Sleepwalkers was the first time he wrote a script specifically for the screen rather than adapting a novel that already existed. Maybe that’s why it’s so fucking bad. Stephen King is a novelist, gifted with a novelist’s rich imagination. He’s prone to giving backstories to even the most peripheral characters - think of Joe Chamber’s alcoholic neighbour Gary Pervier in the novel Cujo, who King follows for an unbelievable number of pages as the man stumbles drunkenly around his house spouting his catch phrase “I don’t give a shit,” drills a hole through his phone book so he can hang it from a string beside his phone, complains about his hemorrhoids getting “as big as golfballs” (I’m not joking), and just generally acts like an asshole until a rabid Cujo bounds over, rips his throat out, and he bleeds to death. In the novel Pervier’s death takes more than a few pages, but it makes for fun reading. You hate the man so fucking much that watching him die feels oddly satisfying. In the movie, though, his death occurs pretty quickly, and in a darkened hallway, so it’s hard to see what’s going on aside from Gary’s foot trembling. And Pervier’s “I don’t give a shit” makes sense when he’s drilling a hole in the phone book, not when he’s about to be savagely attacked by a rabid St Bernard. There’s just less room for back story in movies. In a medium that demands pruning and chiseling and the “less is more” dictum, King’s writing takes a marked turn for the worse. King is a prose maximalist, who freely admits to “writing to outrageous lengths” in his novels, listing It, The Stand, and The Tommyknockers as particularly egregious examples of literary logorrhea. He is not especially equipped to write concisely. This weakness is most apparent in Sleepwalkers’ dialogue, which sounds like it was supposed to be snappy and smart, like something Aaron Sorkin would write, but instead comes off like an even worse Tango & Cash, all bad jokes and shitty puns. More on those bad jokes later. First, the plot.

Sleepwalkers is about a boy named Charles and his mother Mary who travel around the United States killing and feeding off the lifeforce of various unfortunate people (if this sounds a little like The True Knot in Doctor Sleep, you’re not wrong. But self-plagiarism is not a crime). Charles and Mary are shapeshifting werewolf-type creatures called werecats, a species with its very own Wikipedia page. Wikipedia confers legitimacy dont’cha know, so lets assume werecats are real beings. According to said page, a werecat, “also written in a hyphenated form as were-cat) is an analogy to ‘werewolf’ for a feline therianthropic creature.” I’m gonna spell it with the hyphen from now on because “werecats” just looks like a typo. Okay? Okay.

Oddly enough, the were-cats in Sleepwalkers are terrified of cats. Actual cats. For the were-cats, cute kittens = kryptonite. When they see a cat or cats plural, this happens to them:

^ That is literally a scene from the movie. Charles is speeding when a cop pulls alongside him and bellows at him to pull over. Ever the rebel, Charles flips the cop the finger. But the cop has a cat named Clovis in his car, and when the cat pops up to have a look at the kid (see below), Charles shapeshifts first into a younger boy, then into whatever the fuck that is in the above screenshot.

Now, the were-cats aversion to normal cats is confusing because one would assume a were-cat to be a more evolved (or perhaps devolved?) version of the typical house kitty. The fact that these were-cats are bipedal alone suggests an advantage over our furry four-legged friends, no? Kinda like if humans were afraid of fucking gorillas. Wait...we are scared of gorillas. And chimpanzees. And all apes really. Okay, maybe the conceit of the film isn’t so silly after all. The film itself, however, is about as silly as a bad horror movie can get. When the policeman gets back to precinct and describes the incident above (”his face turned into a blur”) he is roundly ridiculed because in movies involving the supernatural nobody believes in the supernatural until it confronts them. It’s the law, sorry. Things don’t end well for the cop. Or for the guy who gets murdered when the mom stabs him with...an ear of corn. Yes, an ear of corn. Somehow, the mother is able to jam corn on the cob through a man’s body, without crushing the vegetable or turning it into yellow mash. It’s pretty amazing. Here is a sample of dialog from that scene: Cop About To Die On The Phone to Precinct: There’s blood everywhere! *STAB* Murderous Mother: No vegetables, no dessert. That is actually a line in the movie. “No vegetables, no dessert.” It’s no “let off some steam, Bennett” but it’s close. Told ya I’d get back to the bad jokes. See, Mary and Charles are new in town and therefore seeking to ingratiate themselves by killing everyone who suspects them of being weird, all while avoiding cats as best they can. At one point Charles yanks a man’s hand off and tells him to "keep [his] hands to [him]self," giving the man back his severed bloody hand. Later on Charles starts dating a girl who will gradually - and I do mean gradually - come to realize her boyfriend is not a real person but in fact a were-cat. Eventually our spunky young protagonist - Madchen Amick, who fans of Twin Peaks will recognize as Shelly - and a team of cats led by the adorable Clovis- kill the were-cat shapeshifting things and the sleepy small town (which is named Travis for some reason) goes back to normal, albeit with a slightly diminished population. For those keeping score, that’s Human/Cat Alliance 1, Shapeshifting Were-cats 0. It is clear triumph for the felis catus/people team! Unless we’re going by kill count, in which case it is closer to Human/Cat Alliance 2, Were-cats 26. I arrived at this figure through my own notes but also through a helpful video that takes a comprehensive and complete “carnage count” of all kills in Sleepwalkers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmt-DroK6uA

II. Santo & Johnny “Sleep Walk” (1959) Because Sleepwalkers is decidedly not known for its good acting or its well-written screenplay, it is perhaps best known for its liberal and sometimes contrapuntal use of Santo & Johnny’s classic steel guitar song “Sleep Walk,” possibly the most famous (and therefore best) instrumental of the 20th century. Some might say “Sleep Walk” is tied for the #1 spot with “Green Onions” by Booker T & the M.G.’s and/or “Wipe Out” by The Surfaris, but I disagree. The Santo & Johnny song is #1 because of its incalculable influence on all subsequent popular music.

I’m not saying “Wipe Out” didn't inspire a million imitators, both contemporaneously and even decades later…for example here’s a surf rock instrumental from 1999 called “Giant Cow" by a Toronto band called The Urban Surf Kings. The video was one of the first to be animated using Flash (and it shows):

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So there are no shortage of surf rock bands, even now, decades after its emergence from the shores of California to the jukeboxes of Middle America. My old band Sleep for the Nightlife used to regularly play Rancho Relaxo with a surf rock band called the Dildonics, who I liked a great deal. There's even a Danish surf rock band called Baby Woodrose, whose debut album is a favourite of mine. They apparently compete for the title of Denmark’s biggest surf pop band with a group called The Setting Son. When a country that has no surfing culture and no beaches has multiple surf rock bands, it is safe to say the genre has attained international reach. As far as I can tell, there aren’t many bands out there playing Booker T & the M.G.’s inspired instrumental rock. Link Wray’s “Rumble” was released four years before “Green Onions.” But the influence of Santo and Johnny’s “Sleep Walk” is so ubiquitous as to be almost immeasurable. The reason for this is the sheer popularity of the song’s chord progression. If Santo and Johnny hadn’t written it first, somebody else would have, simply because the progression is so beautiful and easy on the ears and resolvable in a satisfying way. Have a listen to “Sleep Walk” first and then let’s check out some songs it directly inspired.

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The chords are C, A minor, F and G. Minor variations sometimes reverse the last two chords, but if it begins with C to A minor, you can bet it’s following the “Sleep Walk” formula, almost as if musicians influenced by the song are in the titular trance. When it comes to playing guitar, Tom Waits once said “your hands are like dogs, going to the same places they’ve been. You have to be careful when playing is no longer in the mind but in the fingers, going to happy places. You have to break them of their habits or you don’t explore; you only play what is confident and pleasing.” Not only is it comforting to play and/or hear what we already know, studies have shown that our brains actively resist new music, because it takes work to understand the new information and assimilate it into a pattern we are cogent of. It isn’t until the brain recognizes the pattern that it gives us a dopamine rush. I’m not much for Pitchfork anymore, but a recent article they posted does a fine job of discussing this phenomenon in greater detail.

Led Zeppelin’s “D’Yer Maker” uses the “Sleep Walk” riff prominently, anchored by John Bonham and John Paul Jones’ white-boy reggae beat:

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Here it is again with Del Shannon’s classic “Little Town Flirt.” I love Shannon’s falsetto at the end when he goes “you better run and hide now bo-o-oy.”

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The Beatles “Happiness is a Warm Gun” uses the Sleep Walk progression, though not for the whole song. It goes into the progression at the bridge at 1:34:

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Tumblr won’t let me embed any more videos, so you’ll to travel to another tab to hear these songs, but Neil Young gets in on the act with his overlooked classic “Winterlong:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV6r66n3TFI On their 1996 EP Interstate 8 Modest Mouse pay direct homage by singing over their own rendition of the original Santo & Johnny version, right down to the weeping steel guitar part: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT_PwXjCqqs The vocals are typical wispy whispered indie rock vocals, but I think they work, particularly the two different voices. They titled their version “Sleepwalking (Couples Only Dance Prom Night).”

Dwight Yoakam’s “Thousand Miles From Nowhere” makes cinematic use of it. This song plays over the credits of one of my all-time favourite movies, 1993′s Red Rock West feat. Nicolas Cage, Lara Flynn Boyle, Dennis Hopper, and J.T. Walsh https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tu3ypuKq8WE

“39″ is my favourite Queen song. I guess now I know why. It uses my fav chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kE8kGMfXaFU

Blink 182 scored their first hit “Dammit” with a minor variation on the Sleep Walk chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sT0g16_LQaQ

Midwest beer drinkin bar rockers Connections scored a shoulda-been-a-hit with the fist-pumping “Beat the Sky:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSNRq0n_WYA You’d be hard pressed to find a weaker lead singer than this guy (save for me, natch), but they make it work. This one’s an anthem.

Spoon, who have made a career out of deconstructing rock n’ roll, so that their songs sometimes sound needlessly sparse (especially “The Ghost of You Lingers,” which takes minimalism to its most extreme...just a piano being bashed on staccato-style for four minutes), so it should surprise nobody that they re-arrange the Sleep Walk chords on their classic from Gimme Fiction, “I Summon You:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teXA8N3aF9M I love that opening line: remember the weight of the world was a sound that we used to buy? I think songwriter Britt Daniel is talking about buying albums from the likes of Pearl Jam or Smashing Pumpkins, any of those grunge bands with pessimistic worldviews. There are a million more examples. I remember seeing some YouTube video where a trio of gross douchebros keep playing the same progression while singing a bunch of hits over it. I don’t like the smarmy way they do it, making it seem like artists are lazy and deliberately stealing. I don’t think it’s plagiarism to use this progression. And furthermore, tempo and production make all the difference. Take “This Magic Moment” for example. There's a version by Jay & the Americans and one by Ben E King & the Drifters. I’ve never been a fan of those shrieking violins or fiddles that open the latter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bacBKKgc4Uo The Jay & the Americans version puts the guitar riff way in the forefront, which I like a lot more. The guitar plays the entire progression once before the singing starts and the band joins in: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKfASw6qoag

Each version has its own distinctive feel. They are pretty much two different songs. Perhaps the most famous use of the Sleep Walk progression is “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers, which is one of my favourite songs ever. The guy who chose to let Bobby Hatfield sing this one by himself must have kicked himself afterwards when it became a hit, much bigger than "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling."https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiiyq2xrSI0

What can you say about “Unchained Melody” that hasn’t already been said? God, that miraculously strong vocal, the way the strings (and later on, brass horns) are panned way over to the furthest reaches the left speaker while the drums and guitar are way over in the right, with the singing smack dab in the middle creates a kind of distance and sharp clarity that has never been reproduced in popular music, like seeing the skyscrapers of some distant city after an endless stretch of highway. After listening to “Unchained Melody,” one has to wonder: can that progression ever be improved upon? Can any artist write something more haunting, more beautiful, more uplifting than that? The “need your love” crescendo hits so fucking hard, as both the emotional and the sonic climax of the song, which of course is no accident...the strings descending and crashing like a waterfall of sound, it gets me every fucking time. Legend has it that King George II was so moved by the “Hallelujah” section of Handel’s “Messiah” that he stood up, he couldn't help himself, couldn't believe what he was hearing. I get that feeling with all my favourite songs. "1979." "Unchained Melody." "In The Still of the Night." "Digital Bath." "Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?" "Interstate." "Liar's Tale." “Gimme Shelter.” The list goes on and on. Music is supposed to move us.

King George II stood because he was moved to do so. Music may be our creation, but it isn't our subordinate. All those sci-fi stories warning about technology growing beyond our control aren’t that far-fetched. Music is our creation but its power lies beyond our control. We are subordinate to music, helpless against its power and might, its urgency and vitality and beauty. There have been many times in my life when I have been so obsessed with a particular song that I pretty much want to live inside of it forever. A house of sound. I remember detoxing from heroin and listening to Grimes “Realiti” on repeat for twelve hours. Detoxing from OxyContin and listening to The Beach Boys “Dont Worry Baby” over and over. Or just being young and listening to “Tonight Tonight” over and over and over, tears streaming from my eyes in that way you cry when you’re a kid because you just feel so much and you don’t know what to do with the intensity of those feelings. It is precisely because we are so moved by music that we keep creating it. And in the act of that creation we are free. There are no limits to that freedom, which is why bands time and time again return to the well-worn Sleep Walk chord progression and try to make something new from it. Back in 2006, soon after buying what was then the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, I found myself playing the album’s closing track over and over. I loved the chorus and I loved the way it collapses into a lo-fi demo at the very end, stripping away the studio sheen and...not to be too punny, showing its bones (the album title is Show Your Bones). Later on I would realize that the song, called “Turn Into,” uses the Sleep Walk chord progression. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exqCFoPiwpk

It’s just like, what Waits said, our hands goes to where we are familiar. And so do our ears, which is why jazz often sounds so unpleasant to us upon first listen. Or Captain Beefheart. But it’s worth the effort to discover new stuff, just as it’s worth the effort to try and write it. I recently lamented on this blog that music to me now is more about remembrance than discovery, but I’m still only 35 years old. I’m middle-aged right now (I don’t expect to live past 70, not with the lifestyle I’ve been living). There’s still a whole other half life to find new music and love and leave it for still newer stuff. It’s worth the challenge, that moment of inner resistance we feel when confronted with something new and challenging and strange sounding. The austere demands of adult life, rent and routine, take so much of our time. I still make time for creative pursuits, but I don’t really have much time for discovery, for seeking out new music. But I’ve resolved to start making more time. A few years ago I tried to listen to and like Trout Mask Replica but I couldn’t. I just didn’t get what was going on. It sounded like a bunch of mistakes piled on top of each other. But then a few days ago I was writing while listening to music, as I always do, and YouTube somehow landed on Lick My Decals Off, Baby. I didn’t love what I was hearing but I was intrigued enough to keep going. And now I really like this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMnd9dvb3sA&pbjreload=101 Another example I’ll give is the rare Robert Pollard gem “Prom Is Coming.” The first time I heard this song, it sounded like someone who can’t play guitar messing around, but the more I heard it the more I realized there’s a song there. It’s weird and strange, but it’s there. The lyrics are classic Pollard: Disregard injury and race madly out of the universe by sundown. Pollard obviously has a special place in his heart for this track. He named one of his many record labels Prom Is Coming Records and he titled the Boston Spaceships best-of collection Out of the Universe By Sundown. I don’t know if I’ll ever become a Captain Beefheart megafan but I can hear that the man was doing something very strange and, at times, beautiful. And anyway, why should everything be easy? Aren’t some challenges worth meeting for the experience waiting on the other side of comprehension or acceptance? I try to remember this now whenever I’m first confronted with new music, instead of vetoing it right away. Most of my favourite bands I was initially resistant to when I first heard them. Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss, Guided by Voices, Spoon, Heavy Times. All bands I didn’t like at first. I don’t wanna sleepwalk through life, surrounding myself only with things I have already experienced. I need to stay awake. Because soon enough I’ll be asleep forever. We need to try everything we can before the Big Sleep comes to take us back to the great blankness, the terrible question mark that bookends our lives.

#sleep walk #santo & johnny #neil young #queen #dwight yoakam #led zeppelin #the beatles #betterdaysareatoenailaway

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