#that stands for touch-starved gay sadness

[alteritymonster]

The Wheelers' living room, April 1984.

This one's angsty, friends. It is, yeah, basically a coronavirus-in-the-80s au. Don't worry, nobody dies in it, or even gets sick. There is some introspective body horror stuff though. And lots of angst. And some little confused Byler exchanges, as a treat!

The president listened to the reporter's question with an expression of calm assurance on his face, features fixed in a disarming grin. Then cocking his head at a jaunty angle, his sculpted hair gleaming in the television lights, he spoke.

"Well Helen, facts are stupid things—stubborn things, I should say. The fact is that this virus, with which we find ourselves at war today, is a Russian virus. I have made no apology for being frank with the American people about this fact, nor will I. The Soviet Union's rulers have told the world that American servicemen were to blame for the earliest cases of disease. My heart and best intentions still tell me that isn't true. While Dr. Koop and I have made daily appearances before the American public since the beginning of the crisis, Mr. Andropov hasn't been seen in public even once since last August. Whether intentionally or not, the Soviets have spread this new virus to the nations of the free world, while their Communist rulers won't even tell us honestly who is in charge inside the walls of the Kremlin. Those facts speak for themselves."

"Follow-up question, sir? Thank you. What is your response to critics who charge that you are planning to reopen American business prematurely, given that virus cases still continue to rise?"

The president chuckled amiably. "Well, it is not up to me or any government official to tell American businessmen and -women how to pursue their own best interests. Every person chooses the risks he or she will take to provide for themselves or their families, as we have always enjoyed the freedom to do under our system of government. That spirit of free enterprise is what makes the United States of America exceptional in the world. Free people must never live in fear, not of a virus, or even of nuclear holocaust. The future does not belong to the fainthearted. It belongs to the brave."

Reporters seated six feet apart broke in with new questions. After a moment one of them gained the floor. "Mr. President, any comment on comparisons with your administration's response to the AIDS crisis? Some have been asking—" Click.

Mike looked up at his dad. "Why did you turn it off?"

Ted Wheeler turned to walk into the other room. "No need for you to hear about... all that other stuff. Ronnie told 'em." He crossed the foyer into the dining room and sat down at the table. Mike could hear from the living room the noise of the computer on the dining room table starting up, knew it would soon be connected to the mainframe at his dad's work and tying up the phone line until it was time to eat dinner. His dad being at home during the week, and Mike not going to school himself, were just two things he had had to get used to lately. Six weeks of this and Hawkins Middle still hadn't figured out a system to distribute homework regularly to students. Until they did there wasn't much for Mike to do apart from reading some of the books Mr. Clarke had loaned him personally. He had to think for a moment before he could be sure it was a Wednesday. It might have been any other day of the week.

Mike sighed listlessly and got up from the couch. He picked up his backpack from a peg on the wall by the front door and pulled it over both shoulders. It was heavy, but not with school books. He took a bandana out of one of its pockets and tied it loosely around his neck, so he could easily pull it up over his face when he needed to. Without looking toward the dining room Mike said, "I'm going over to Will's." Ted glanced up for just a moment. "You look like a damn bank robber," was all he said; he was already staring into the terminal's screen again when Mike looked his way at this. Their eyes hadn't met. His dad had been joking, kind of, but Mike still felt a little rattled, like he really was doing something wrong. He didn't know why he didn't like telling his dad when he was going to Will's, when it didn't bother him to tell his mom, or even to tell his dad when he was going to Lucas or Dustin's house.

Mirkwood

He kept his face uncovered for the bike ride, needing to breathe rapidly with the effort of pushing the pedals and nobody being nearby anyway. Besides, he knew that some people in town would give him dirty looks if he did have his face covered. Slowing after turning onto Mirkwood, at about halfway down the stretch of it that took him to Will's he stopped and stood with the frame of the bike between his legs. Catching his breath, looking out into the forest, not really expecting to see her... and as always when he stood here and thought this, he wasn't pleasantly surprised as he always hoped to be. Still, just to "observe protocol" as he called it to himself, he got his walkie-talkie out of the backpack and extended its antenna.

"Eleven, come in Eleven. Can you hear me? It's Mike. This is day one hundred and sixty-five, it's 2:09pm. Come in please, El. Over." Counting in his head, slowly, to five, ten, twenty. "Eleven..." Are you alive? Have you gotten sick? Can your powers protect you? "I'll talk to you again later, El." I don't know if I can take it, all of this, if every day feels like this for another hundred sixty-five days... "Mike, over and out."

After he put the walkie-talkie away and started pumping the bike's pedals again, he thought back to that night. El pinning the Demogorgon to the wall of Mr. Clarke's classroom, saving all five of them, and then disappearing. Mike couldn't let himself get his hopes up, knowing he didn't really understand her powers. But for the same reason he couldn't be sure it was impossible, what he'd been imagining lately. She could push the Demogorgon with her mind, make Mike levitate, break Troy's arm. It was mind over matter for sure, but did that work like the Force in Star Wars? If she could also disappear, Mike reasoned, did it work instead, or also, like the transporter on Star Trek? In Mike's fantasy El stretched out a hand toward someone's body—Will's, Lucas's, his own, anyone's—causing it to glow with a bright yellow-white color for a few seconds, rearranging the atoms and molecules inside. Leaving the person the same, unchanged... except for the virus, if it was in them, gone. Disappeared. She had been, to Mike's mind, a weapon; could she also be a healer? His mind lingered on two things from that night in November at the last, as it always would now. First, his hand and her hand touching. He could almost feel the pressure of her hand squeezing his own back. Second, as she disappeared, the tears beginning to fall down his face. A few more welled up in his eyes now as he sped up on the bike. It was a windy day.

Castle Byers

Will lay on his back on the fort's makeshift bed, staring up at the grey overcast sky through the slats of the ceiling. Jonathan's latest mixtape played on low volume, a Gary Numan song Will thought was creepy but kind of cool.

You quote from 'anxious' and things we do I need protection from the likes of you

He'd had to spend a lot of time alone at home lately. His mom still had to go to work at Melvald's like normal, despite everything. With Hawkins High School closed, Jonathan was using the free time to pick up more shifts at his job. Joyce insisted unwaveringly that Will stay home, not venturing out farther than the woods behind the house. She'd never been more protective of her younger son than since his time in the Upside Down. He knew she hated having to worry about coming home carrying the virus, knew that she, and Jonathan too, were losing sleep wondering what happened if any of them got sick. Will hated seeing both of them looking so tired, Joyce even more than her job already would make her. He could tell lately that sometimes, on days she had worked, she even pulled back from showing Will affection with a hug or, more embarrassing but all the more badly missed now, tickle attack. It was for the most loving reason, Will knew; why did knowing that make him feel worse, make him feel guilty? Since it had started getting warmer again it had been easier some nights just to sleep out here, drifting off to Jonathan's dubbed new wave.

Will did find himself dreaming of the Upside Down less recently, but not for a lack of thinking about it during the day. The wind blowing through the door of the fort right now made him think of the cold in that parallel not-place. He'd remember the tendrils of whatever it was living everywhere there, reaching deep down his throat squeezing his lungs, the acrid mold taste of the spores floating in the air there filling him. A scent of that stale corruption had clung to him faintly for days after he woke in the hospital, traces of the Upside Down seeping out of his own grey sallow skin. There'd also been that moment at Christmas, standing at the bathroom sink, that he couldn't be sure he hadn't imagined... In the new virus he felt he could see evidence he was responsible for the new state of things, as if by mere exposure to the Upside Down he had brought this disease back with him into the real world. It was crazy, he knew, as much as when his stomach flipped thinking about.. that other disease, the one they were also talking about still on TV sometimes...

Do you begin to see that I don't know? I live on memories that are hard to find

"Will? Are you okay?"

The two boys sat in front of Castle Byers, spaced six feet apart, on chairs Will dragged outside from the kitchen table. They both had bandanas pulled up over their noses and mouths. A few weeks ago Will had drawn on a bandana in permanent marker for each one of the party, to reflect their D&D character classes. For Dustin, the bard, a pied triskelion that Will had traced from an encyclopedia rendering of the flag of the Isle of Man, suggesting somehow both a performer or jester, and a medieval friar militant. For Lucas, the ranger, a two-tone design managing to resemble the lower half of a ninja's hood: not quite to the D&D manual's model of a ranger, but Lucas had been delighted. Mike's mask was vertically striped so that it looked like the grille of a paladin's armor helmet. For himself, Will had drawn semicircles in grey marker that, overlooking the fact that the whole thing also covered his nose, brought to his friends' minds the tufts of the long pointed beard grown by his character, Will the Wise.

It was a two-character side quest, not a major campaign of Mike's, just an excuse to spend a little time together really. Paladin and cleric together easily solved the riddle of the miasmic havoc-fairies, who duly returned the stricken village's children from the disappearing forest as promised. The tavern's half-mad doggerel-poet revealed himself to be none other than King Tristan in disguise, praising the heroes' fine deeds and bestowing on them a trove of magical coarsegold. Mike raised up one arm in a Luke Skywalker lightsaber pose to show Will how solemnly Tristan gifted the precious metal into the hands of the heroes on bended knee. Will grinned unselfconsciously at Mike's performance, virus and the Upside Down for the moment forgotten. Finally though, Mike did close the dungeon master's book and reluctantly stand up.

"Well, I guess I'd better get going," Mike said. Will nodded, eyes locked with Mike's. They hadn't high-fived or hugged, as they would usually at the end of a successful quest. Each of them felt uneasy for a moment, unable to see the other's lower face, unsure quite what the other meant when he spoke. Mike didn't see that Will's gaze was matched with lips slightly parted, uncertain, expectant; he could think only of the flash of first sight of Will in his hospital bed, shrunken and tired but alive, and the sensations of throwing his arms around him and holding tight. Will didn't see Mike's pursed lips as he turned his head away, couldn't see that the turn of his head said not "bye then" but meant "here we go, here goes nothing."

"I brought you something." Before he lost his nerve—though not sure what he needed nerve for right now—Mike reached into his backpack and pulled out the largest, if not the heaviest, thing it had been holding. It was a giant frog plushie. Will's expression, no more readable than before, stayed the same as far as Mike could tell. "It's just... Nancy gave me this last Christmas and it's dumb but it would, I thought it maybe, can remind you of me since I can't... Don't worry, my mom put it through the laundry and all." Mike said, all in a rush, sputtering to a stop.

Will's smile crinkled the edges of his bandana. "A frog stuffed animal? from a frogf—"

"Shut up. Dork." Mike leaned forward and wagged the arms of the frog, suggesting a tickling attack being engaged. Will couldn't stop a little fit of giggling, glancing away and touching the back of his head shyly. "It's cool, I like it." "Cool."

Another silence. Finally Mike just waved shyly, leaving the frog on the chair he had just been sitting on. Then he turned to walk back to his bike, awkwardly craning his head back halfway to give another smile Will couldn't quite see, making a thumb-ups for good measure. Will waved back grinning ear to ear, which even Mike did notice, even through the mask. Mike disappeared around the side of the Byers house, and then Will was left with the frog waiting on the other chair, six feet away.

[angelhummel]

thinkin bout season 1 kurt being so starved for affection that he admitted to practicing kissing on his elbow. and how he was treated like a disease bc of his sexuality, and other boys couldn’t even stand being close to him or, god forbid, being touched by him even in the most innocuous ways. and how he put his dad’s feelings ahead of his own desires and gave up something he really wanted bc it would’ve made him stand out more, and he didn’t want his sexuality being a burden on someone else. and how later we find out he was thinking he could disappear and no one would even notice

and in season 2 two of his “friends” are literally scheming to keep another boy from even having to interact with him, doing the absolute most to keep kurt lonely (even if it wasn’t their main goal) to the point where kurt felt like he had to “set (sam) free” and spare him the humiliation of even having to be associated with the local gay kid bc again his sexuality is being treated as a burden on others. and his “friends” were also still making homophobic jokes without a second thought and his main bully threatened to kill him and still people barely noticed anything amiss

and in season 3 even after he’s met his soulmate who makes him feel loved and makes him feel seen, they can barely pat each other on the shoulder in public bc they know what kind of environment mckinley is and they’re still scared to fully be themselves

kurt was isolated, treated like a disease, beaten down, made to feel small, had his life threatened, thought he had to change a fundamental part of himself just to be accepted, all because of who he was and who he loved

and then in season 5 blaine proposes. and kurt is surrounded by everyone he’s ever loved and that’s ever loved him. and they embrace him literally and figuratively and hug and even kiss him. and all his friends are here, and his dad, and strangers that don’t even know him are here to celebrate him and his love. and it’s not small and it’s not muted and it’s not hiding. it’s big and loud and celebratory

it’s something straight out of a romcom or disney movie, something kurt always thought was only ever going to be a fantasy for him, but blaine made it real. it’s a spectacle, for sure, but it’s also a celebration of their love. it’s a bold statement for kurt, for blaine, for the show itself. it’s blaine ripping away anything that’s blocking kurt’s sun and shining a positive light on him. putting him in front of a hundred people who want to see good things happen to him, who are here to celebrate him. something kurt thought was an impossibility ten, five, even one year ago

and i’ve said it before but. whatever doubts kurt had in the beginning were nowhere to be found by the time he met blaine on the stairs. from the second blaine starts his speech, to the moment that ring goes on kurt’s finger, kurt’s eyes do not leave blaine. he isn’t looking for approval, for anyone’s thoughts, and certainly not looking for a way out. the proposal is a spectacle for sure, but blaine’s speech? it might as well have only been him and blaine in the room for how kurt acts. and no, things aren’t perfect after that. but kurt never, ever stops loving blaine no matter what struggles they endure

kurt loves blaine. and he chooses blaine over and over again. klaine doesn’t have to be everyone’s otp. not everyone even has to ship them. but the number of people sprouting up lately that seem hellbent on taking something so beautiful, positive, and meaningful, and warp it beyond recognition into something sinister and manipulative is so crazy and sad to me. all bc they can’t help but project onto kurt, or think that blaine is literally voldemort. i will never understand the people who think that way. but i will be forever grateful that glee gave us something as amazing as this to cherish forever

[your-fave-transboy]

My Criminal Minds Headcanons - SFW

Like my SVU ones, these are also self-indulgent lmao. I don't own any of these characters.

Garcia has found pictures of dogs that embody the team. Reid is a chihuahua which he absolutely hates.

Hotch likes playing Racquetball and absolutely does it with Jack whenever he has the chance.

Spencer fosters dogs whenever he can since he can't actually adopt any.

Derek is actually a great strategist and good at chess, and has been known to play with Gideon in his office before he dipped.

Emily has been to alt/goth clubs since coming to DC, and she always brings out her old goth outfits.

Spencer and Garcia are he/they and she/they solidarity.

Hotch is touch-starved and nearly fell down the steps once when JJ hugged him.

Will fucked off back to Louisiana but still visits his son that's raised by JJ and her wife, Emily. I will not be arguing this point.

JJ and Emily eloped and kept it secret for three years before Morgan finally just asked if they were dating. They wore rings and everything, their teammates are just dumb.

Luke Alvez had bi panic when he saw all the hotties he would be working with.

I'm convinced Matthew and Hotch would be great friends.

As Emily is supposedly the oldest, she makes jokes about everyone respecting their elders, even to Hotch.

On that note, Spencer/Derek/Garcia call her and Hotch the parentals.

Spencer plays Animal Crossing with Emily.

Hotch pulls out his southern accent when people start to annoy him. Locals start talkin shit and he starts dropping syllables.

Garcia AND Emily have fought transphobes at Pride, two different occasions. JJ has punched a Nazi. Hotch punched a racist who started talkin smack.

Hotch is on like level 700+ of Candy Crush. It is the only game on his phone.

Garcia forced Morgan to watch Grey's Anatomy with her. She loves Alex and George, he loves Cristina and Addison. Garcia did not like watching his choice of Friday Night Lights.

After Hotch retires, they have a bi-weekly family dinner at his place. They stay in touch bc they're one big sad family.

Hotch listens to country music and the others hate it, so he always plays it when driving because it annoys Morgan the most.

Emily is a god at Jenga.

Rossi has very elegant handwriting, thank you nuns.

Hotch and Spencer get flirted with the most at gay bars, they are twink and dilf solidarity. Matt and Luke are twunks, I will not take criticism.

Spencer volunteers at the animal shelter since his apartment doesn't allow dogs. He has cried when one got adopted.

Luke will have random bruises that he cannot remember getting, so the team makes up the wildest theories possible.

Gideon can sing surprisingly well.

Monopoly has been banned from game nights after Spencer and Emily nearly started to fistfight over the best properties.

Spencer wears short shorts and fuzzy socks outside of work. His favorite pair say delicious across the ass (ofc Penelope got them for him)

Hotch has the biggest sweet tooth. He has a whole hidden compartment in his desk with chocolate bars and shit.

Emily and Morgan have been both been pepper sprayed at BLM rallies. Emily bc she got in a cop's face, and Morgan bc he tried to protect Emily.

Hotch has amazing self-control but some people just flip his Bitch-Switch, and he just hits em with the sickest burns. Morgan has a book of the best ones in his go-bag.

The group all went to pride one year and Rossi regaled the group of his "foray into the homosexual lifestyle" with Gideon.

On that note, there is an office pool of who has fucked who, who is fucking who, and who are actually in love. Spencer won 200$ when Rossi confirmed he and Gideon fucked.

JJ listens to musicals. She knows Hamilton word-for-word, adores Be More Chill, and cried through half of the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack.

Hotch cannot stand horror movies due to the real life horror he sees everyday, same with the rest of the group. They all prefer other genres, mainly action or comedy.

[jojo-reader-hell]

You know what we ain’t had in a minute? The Big Gay™️.

Hello yes who wants to relive their high school days in such a way that us young queers didn’t have to stay in the closet?

Jolyne x Fem!Reader x Foo Fighters x Hermès Costello: Butterfly

This is dedicated to the girl who wanted to date me in junior year but I was too fucking closeted to understand that I wasn’t really into my ex boyfriend all that much.

Oh boy! High school queers!

Welp, remember those shitty homecoming dances where we were stuffed in tight dresses and wearing ugly ass makeup? That’s the place I’m taking you back to today.

The dj is actually pretty good. It’s definitely a playlist you’ll be recreating in ten years with your girlfriend on your 10th year anniversary.

He let you and your friends even get a good scream session in listening to Lil Jon uncensored.

Hey, there’s nothing more satisfying than being a group of girls at sixteen screaming about to the window to the wall to the sweat drop down your balls and making all these bitches crawl. It hits different.

The “aww skeet skeet motherfuckers aww skeet skeet goddamn” in unison? *chef kiss*🤌🏼

Unfortunately your boyfriend ditches you about halfway through the dance for some other chick and you end up being the sad girl crying in the corner of the bleachers, your black dress with the cats and pink polka dots can only bring you so much happiness.

One of your friends tries to comfort you. She’s the one who told you in art class that she’s bi and you confessed your own secret, so she knows just how to help you feel better.

“Don’t cry... You see that girl over there? She said if you’re into girls she’d totally want to dance with you. Do you want to go dance with her?”

You look up through runny tears to see the aforementioned girl staring at you. She’s wearing a scandalously lovely dress, twirling the rainbow of bracelets she has around her wrists.

A punk queen named Jolyne Cujoh.

She’s even wearing neon green lipstick to the dance.

You’ve seen her before. She’s the girl you’ve always been envious of.

Was it really envy/jealousy of her attractiveness? Or was it longing?

Jolyne is the kind of girl who mixes Juicy Couture with Tripp pants. A mix of 90’s chola and scene kid.

Her friends are checking you out too, the hot Afro Latina with dreads is making kisses at you. The cute enby one wants you too, bedroom eyes at you while suckling on a straw plunged into a big gulp.

Your other friends are nearly pushing Jolyne in your direction when they see you wiping your tears.

She’s beautiful. She’s even got Sailor Moon buns going on, and in the flicker of the lights she can see your starry eyed expression.

You’re very flattered she asked to dance with you.

It just takes one nod.

Crazy Town’s music starts playing when she approaches you, it’s all so perfectly orchestrated that there had to have been some outside help. The antithesis of butch, but still looks like in any kind of relationship you’d be the fragile one.

Yet when that chorus hits you with talk about the lady coming over because she’s your butterfly, you understand suddenly why they added the sugar baby part to it.

Like yes ma’am.

You’ve never been gayer in your life when you see her stand over you for a minute, then sit with you to take your hand.

“You want to dance with us?” She asks.

She has to yell a little bit so you’ll hear her, but you nod quickly and smile when she wipes your eyes.

Lifting you up from your seat, the next thing you know is she’s dragging you out to the floor, got your back pressed against her chest, hands on your waist as she slowly begins to gyrate her hips in time to the music.

Oh holy Jesus king of the Jews.

How fucking touch starved are you???

She made your legs shake.

You made her go crazy.

Did you even deserve this? You’re not sure and just dance out seductively to the three minutes thirty seven seconds of this song.

To you it feels like an eternity.

At some point you hear a commotion. It sounds like your now ex boyfriend getting into it with Jolyne’s friends. The disruption doesn’t bother you in the slightest, not when suddenly here comes Jolyne’s non binary partner sandwiching you between the two of them.

How the hell is the staff not stopping you three nearly dry humping on the floor? It’s probably because of the gorgeous girl that’s come up to wrap her arms around Jolyne and her friend.

There’s a whisper of Tres Flores in your nostrils when she leans down to whisper something to you, tawny warm skin brushing against your cheek.

“Hermosa...” she purrs.

It’s like a horny teen boy’s wet dream: death by being completely smothered in girls.

Except spoiler alert: that fantasy belongs to the gays now.

[lyallblacklupin]

It’s just Remus Lupin! (part 2)

The sun had risen and Sirius felt someone sitting on his bed. His neck was aching following with throbbing in his temples. He was struggling to open his heavy eyelid until he heard voices.

“Why don’t you talk to him right now after he wakes up?” That was James’ voice.

“No way! And after what he had told me? And now I have totally made everything awkward between us. I’m so stupid, Prongs!” Remus’ voice sounded so new, squeaky and very much worried.

“Yeah, there is no doubt. You are the mother of stupidity. But look at his face. He must’ve cried all the night. So peaky! He needs breakfast before he faints.”

Typical Potter, the mother-hen of the group.

“I’ve never seen him crying like last night.” Remus whispered.

Sirius’ heartbeat quickened as he felt a very familiar hand brushing against his. Remus’ warmth was all he yearned for. Then after a while, Sirius finally opened his eyes to see three heads hovering on him. James, Peter and Remus were gawking at him as if he were some sort of new creature they had discovered.

“How are you?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, I’m great.” Sirius struggled to sit up, propping on his elbows. He felt so tired.

“Well, do you wanna talk about it?” James asked, gesturing to the crumpled ball of parchment at his nightstand. Sirius distinctly recalled throwing it on the floor. Someone of the three had read it and put it back in its previous form. He nervously glanced at Remus who was looking at the floor, deeply engrossed in his thoughts. He felt a surge of unjust anger for him.

“Not really...” He answered.

“You know we are here for you.” James insisted.

“I know, Prongs, you are.” He didn’t expect himself to come out too bitterly, which made everyone in the room uncomfortable.

“Me too, Pads, and Moony here” Peter started but Remus interrupted.

“Wormy, what Sirius really need is breakfast so...”

“How do you know what I need?” Sirius suddenly snapped. He was hating how Remus was being this figure who tells people what they should be, or do, but then he was regretting his tone when he saw Remus wearing pained expressions, while James and Peter were becoming tensed. “Aye, you know what, just leave me alone. I don’t need breakfast.” Sirius said dejectedly, “its weekend and I would really wanna have myself for a while...”

Everybody sauntered towards the door and Sirius buried his head in his hands. He didn’t want to be a burden to his friends. They were his only family. No matter how awkward Peter could be, no matter how painfully lovely Remus could be or how irritatingly caring James could be, They were all a very essential part of his life, something he could not afford to lose. And now he was gradually losing one by one. Remus was lost, James was halfway there because telling him that he was gay would be disgusting enough for him and Peter to leave.

The door clicked shut but Sirius realized that he was not alone yet. He lifted his head up to see James Potter standing against the doorframe, smiling weakly at him.

“I’m not leaving you alone after you’ve cried literally like a baby, Padfoot. A legit baby.” He walked towards Sirius who let out a chuckle. “Padfoot?”

“Yeah?” Sirius looked into his hazel eyes, staring at him very intently.

“Moony told me.”

Sirius felt his entire body went numb.

“And...Sirius....”

Why are you gay? What is the matter with you? I can’t be friends with you anymore!

“...Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sirius jerked up his head with wide eyes and mouth. What?

“What?”

“I mean-I thought we share everything...is there something that I did to make you uncomfortable or-“

“James...no...You can never do something wrong...” He was at a loss of words. He didn’t expect this response. “You don’t disgust me?”

“Why? Did you pick your nose and eat it?”

“Ew! No Prongs!” Sirius scrunched his nose halfheartedly while a smile desperately wanting to settle on his lips. James was being James Fucking Potter, his supportive non-biological brother and a caring prat.

“Then, there’s no reason for me to disgust you, Sirius.” James gazed him earnestly.  He felt tears stinging in his eyes.

“Wha-Padfoot!?” James exclaimed at the sight of Sirius whose face was crumpled and was practically weeping silently. “Look at that! A baby! Legit baby!” James crawled on Sirius’ side and wrapped his arms around him, cackling affectionately.

They finally came down to grab buttered toasts from the kitchen as they ran to their first lesson of the day. The time crawled down like as if it were a turtle. Sirius wanted to bang his head against the nearby wall because it was becoming unbearable to be in the same class where Remus Lupin was. It was quite a hard truth to digest and that was Remus and Sirius becoming distant. They used to be glued against each other, and Sirius used to enjoy that one-sided intimacy, but now they were miles away from each other and Sirius was touch-starved. Well actually, this was Remus’ touch starvation.

“I think I’m gonna be sick!” He rested his head against the wall by the Great Hall entrance as he and James were waiting for the rest of the Marauders to gather for lunch.

“Hey! Snap out of it!” James blurted out, “Don’t let your emotions have power over you-“

“That’s what Moony said.”

“Then listen to him, for his sake! I know you’re falling for him and you think that he didn’t return the feelings—“

“I think?” Sirius glared at him, “He clearly rejected me!”

“He didn’t reject you! He is just being Moony! You know how he is, always self-deprecating, and not to mention, being affirmative that he doesn’t deserve anything good. That’s why he asked you if you were sure. I mean, I’m not defending him because of course, you are not supposed to say that when someone tells you that they love you, but Pads, I don’t think he is entirely unreasonable here. You have messed around with a lot of girls while he never got one. He is conflicted between being worthy enough to be with you, and making sure he doesn’t get a heart break from you of all people. All that matters to him, is your friendship. He is not judging you, he just doesn’t trust himself.”

Sirius knew that each and every word of James was right. It was a little hurting but true. He didn’t know what to say so he remained silent. He clearly had a bad reputation of having two-days relationships so, of course, Moony was doubting him reasonably.

Peter and Remus had joined the two of them and now the four of them were eating shepherd’s pie in their lunch. Sirius suddenly lost his appetite when his eyes found Remus, sitting between Peter and Frank, playing with his food while staring into nothingness. His heart clenched to see him like this. Remus’ eyes searched to find Sirius’ which were already staring back. Sirius quickly looked away.

There were these mixed feelings surrounding Sirius’ mind. He didn’t want NOT to be around Remus but every time he looked at those sad amber eyes, he wanted to kiss the pain away but then he was reminded that he had confessed and failed. Remus didn’t even come to him to clarify. If he really felt the same, he could’ve cornered Sirius to communicate.

The Marauders spent the rest of the day mostly in the library for the completion of Transfiguration Essay that was supposed to be 3 foot long, and Slughorn had given them homework to write the functions and ingredients of Felix Felicis potion for the gain of extra credit.

James was scribbling lazily on the top of his journal, it was distinct to see that he was drawing a snitch of L.E written on it. While Peter was drooling over the girl two tables away from them, and Sirius was casting quick glances at Remus who was so engrossed in reading a book with no title. It seemed to be a vintage journal and he had his eyes locked with it as though no power on earth can lift up his attention.

“Mooooony...I’m tired...” James spoke but Sirius knew that Remus wasn’t going to respond until his book is finished.

It was already evening and they hadn’t found any opportunity to be alone. Apparently, Remus hadn’t sought a chance to get Sirius alone because he had done his part but clearly Remus was not trying.

Sirius snapped his hand on the table and stormed out of the library, ignoring the glare from Madam Pince. He sprinted to the Gryffindor Tower and found the common room empty. He sat there alone with his thoughts.

He knew that Remus never dated anyone because of his furry little problem, while Sirius did date a lot including Marlene McKinnon before she realized that she was falling for Dorcas Meadows. Sirius had helped her without feeling bad for being dumped on the Yule Ball as her date. After when Remus had known that Sirius had no one to dance with, he led Sirius in the empty common room and waltzed around on Never Let me Go by Judy Bridgewater.

“So you’d rather dance with a person who is moping that he got dumped on the ball, than with the most beautiful woman on the earth.” Sirius had asked him.

“Padfoot, you are the most beautiful woman on the earth.” Remus had replied him which had made both of them laugh manically, stumbling over each other.

And then he had known that he would never let this man go from his life. Since that beautiful night filled with laughter and lot of dancing alone and drinking, Sirius had never stopped looking at Remus so longingly.

He sighed as the Gryffindor students flooded in the common room, back from the feast. Before he could be seen by his friends, he climbed up to his dormitory. He shut the door behind him and sunk into his bed.

The door swung open, and Shit! Sirius didn’t shut his curtains. He didn’t need to turn to look who came in because it was quite a decent and silent walk of someone, rather than being noisy like James and Peter.

“Hey.” Remus’ voice was as calm and pure as his soul.

“Hi.” He still had his back to Remus and was staring at the window.

“What? Now we won’t talk to each other?” The same sweet voice spoke rather sadly. Sirius reluctantly turned to face him because he couldn’t hurt him.

“Uh... no it’s not like that. Uh, how are you?”

Remus opened his mouth and then shut it quickly, narrowing his eyes, becoming very interested in the floor, as though calculating his words.

“I...” He glanced at Sirius’ eyes, “I’m sorry, Padfoot-“

Sirius felt his stomach twist.

“Look, Remus, you don’t have to apologize-“

“But I do! For-“

“Remus, it’s okay! Please!” Sirius didn’t realize he had shouted those words until he saw Remus’ distraught eyes, glistening with tears in it. “I mean, I shouldn’t expect anything from you, and to be honest I didn’t but it just hurts! We can forget about all of it and go back being friends because-“

“Would you be able to do that?” Remus’ voice was shaky, and Sirius felt a shiver ran down his spine. “You know what, I don’t regret for what I was sorry for earlier. For asking you if you were sure about what you said to me last night.”

What?

“What did you say to me?” Sirius had to pull himself from punching Remus’ beautiful face because Fuck you, Remus Lupin! You are the best cruel person in the world!

“You heard me! Sounds like you don’t love me enough just like I doubted! Because if you did you wouldn’t  be a coward to walk away from my life so easily! Would be that easy for you to forget everything!?”

A MILLION TIMES HARDER!! The word ‘easy’ was no near to this situation Sirius was dealing with. However, as much as he was taken aback by the challenging voice of the other boy, he knew deep down inside his heart that he was, again, reasonable.

He also wanted to retaliate but what came out from Sirius’ mouth was a whimper, and before he knew it he was sobbing on the floor.

Remus was immediately holding him by his torso from his behind, but a little more intimately, Sirius could tell.

“Don’t walk away, I can’t imagine my life without you.” Remus nuzzled his face in Sirius’ hair and continued whispering in his ear, “Please don’t become a stranger before hearing everything. I am going to keep my promise. I promised you I’d help you, I will, Sirius, I will.” Sirius felt a light brush of lips on his temple and it made him want to cry more, but in less pain.

Sirius turned to face Remus who looked so sad, yet radiant than the last time he saw him. It was something about him that made him look prettier every new second to Sirius.

“Do you really love me? Me?” Remus came closer to him, almost sitting on his lap.

Sirius’ heart broke a little at the tone. Why that was even a question? Doesn’t he deserve to be loved? There is no doubt in loving my Moony. He is the loveliest person in my life!

He leaned closer to him and stopped when he was an inch away. Remus was burning scarlet and it seemed that he had held his breath. Sirius was gazing into him very closely, examining every scar on his face. He touched the one on the bridge of his nose and he felt the other boy shivered. Remus was not moving anywhere farther, neither coming closer. Sirius was lost in the strange beauty of him. He was tracing every feature of him and it was becoming difficult to breathe in the heat of the moment.

“With every inch of my heart.”

But Remus shook his head, tears spilling from the brims as he whimpered, “I don’t deserve it.”

And it broke Sirius’ heart into million pieces. He held his wet face in the cup of his hands.

“It’s not true, Moony-oh Moony…”

Sirius embraced him and Remus slumped into his arms. He sincerely loved him. Loved every inch of him. He had waited for so long. Remus’ heart was beating furiously that Sirius could tell by the thudding in his ears. Remus broke into a sweet chortle between his tears and sniffing, and he looked adorable.

“I especially don’t deserve the love of my favorite person in the world.”

“Hope you are talking about me?” Sirius still had him in his arms, his head resting on his shoulders.

Sirius was anxious for Remus’ response, but he also wanted to be patient this time. He was not going to presume the situation wrongly this time.

To Sirius’ surprise, Remus was unstoppably weeping and he knew that those were happy tears because he was laughing merrily and struggling to stop the river streaming from his eyes. Sirius’ right hand were completely damp as it was still there, holding his jaws and his thumb was tracing his cheek while his fingers travelling to nape from his ear, back and forth.

Remus finally spoke, “I’m sorry for this unexpected...pool of tears...”

But Sirius wiped his tears, shaking his head to gesture that he didn’t mind.

“Sirius?”

“Hmm?”

“I do love you, too.” Remus’ breath was hot against his neck.

“Moony, you don’t have to-“

“No, you won’t interrupt me, Sirius Black, because I’m not letting us get ruined by your stupid pessimism!”

Sirius tried to hide his grin because there was the Remus Lupin he loved; the one who made him silent and flustered. He led him to the most corner of their dorm by window and they both sat on their wooden floor. The room was dark but the moonlight emitted faintly.

“You don’t know…” Remus murmured in a despaired voice.

He could sense that Remus was struggling with expressing his feelings. Sirius had known Remus from ages and he was familiar with that some nasty emotions laid beneath the deadpanned face. For instance, if there was rage sweeping inside of Remus, it would be hard to figure out what was going behind that serene face. And Sirius would be damned if he didn’t give him a chance to relax and explain his heart out. He squeezed Remus’ hand and smiled encouragingly.

“Hey, I’m here. I’ve got all night for you. Tell me everything, everything that is in your mind. I’ll listen to you this time and stop being prick like before.”

Remus exhaled a sigh of relief, easing his shoulders.

“I had been there. Just like you, when I was struggling through it since third year. And I knew the night you were there for me on my worst full moon. I never told any of you about that. On that night my full moon was worse because the three of you knew about me and i feared that one of you might let slip of my condition to anyone in the school. That fear worsened my condition. But after my transformation I found you outside the Whomping Willow, you were there for me even rather than being disgusted with me-“

Sirius opened his mouth to protest but Remus held his hand up to let him finish what he wanted to say.

“Pads, you didn’t hesitate to see me in blood and wounds. You cured me even you hardly knew any healing spells.” Remus chuckled and Sirius blushed.

“Every full moon, you held me. The comfort always came with you when I was resting in your arms but it was not same when James held me. I didn’t want to be rude but one day I was this close to tell James off and bring you instead!

“I convinced myself in the fourth year that they were just desperate stupid desires for having someone’s attention because you and I have had this bond, you know...but now I have this urge to be around you to just know if you’re doing fine. Every summer, none of my night went by not thinking about you, worrying about you for how your family was treating you. I can’t see your sad eyes.” He paused to look down at Sirius’ hand and then added, “Sirius, I’m weak. Much vulnerable as a lycanthrope, but if you’ll have me, I’ll always protect you.

Sirius thought he had never felt such fathomless influx of love for someone until now, and it was like his heart was singing Remus like a mantra.

“I never thought you’d like me in that way. And yesterday night in the common room you told me that you were falling in love with me, I couldn’t believe my luck. I thought it was universe playing tricks on me-and I just couldn’t say the right words, Sirius. I’m sorry I made you feel that I rejected you. God, I can never reject you.”

Sirius stared him so tranquilly, a smile lingering on his face. He stayed quiet for Remus to let out every single thing from his heart. This was a new Remus Lupin he was looking at. Someone, who never displayed his emotions, was now pouring his heart out to him. Sirius was starting to feel special.

After a brief silence and gazing into each other’s eyes, Remus stood, propping up on his knees and leaned towards Sirius, holding his face in his hands. Sirius thought, he was going to melt into a puddle.

“And tonight, in this very moment, I wholeheartedly confess that I’ve been in love with you and I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

Sirius thought that his heart would burst and before he could’ve processed those words and depict his next move, Remus had pressed his lips against his into a very passionate kiss that almost took him by surprise. He snaked his arms up to Remus ribcage, reaching to grasp his shoulders as he sunk into the kiss. It was like being intoxicated under those lips which were soft like silk.

They broke apart a little to catch their breaths.

“Merlin, I just kissed Remus Lupin.”

They suddenly laughed into each other’s mouths, pressing their foreheads together.

“Yeah, just Remus Lupin.” Remus smiled weakly at him and Sirius sprang on his feet, holding out his hand.

“Come here.” And Remus did. He seized his hand and they stood before each other. “Listen to me, before you let out that trash talk, you are not what you think you are. You are so much more than that. You have a very good heart inside that chest. I fell in love with that heart right there.” He poked his index finger on his chest where his heart thumped steadily. “You understand? And besides, you’re my Moony. Mine. I’ll always be there for you. I love taking care of you, it’s my favorite hobby.”

Sirius saw Remus blushing and smiling at the same time as he was looking down, and Sirius seized him by his arms and leaned to kiss him on his eyelid.

“I love you, Sirius Black.” Remus whispered.

“Seriously, Moony, I thought you had better taste in men.”

And in return he got a kick in his shin, which led to hitting each other, laughing and running in the dormitory. One chasing after other until they fell on the bed against each other, panting and kissing as if their life depended on it.

“I love you too, Moony, So much.” Sirius held him earnestly as he closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of Remus lying on his body.

Yep, just this beautiful boy on my chest, listening to my heartbeat like a simp! Just Remus Lupin, just the boy I love.

Part 1.

[the-bafflement-of-scotland-yard]

All of them for DinahBoose lofe 😌😌

YESSSS THEM 🥺🖤🖤🖤

1) who can outdrink the other?

C.B. lol. Both of them are tiny, but despite him being skinnier he has a higher tolerance.

2) who says “I love you” more?

Dinah. She and Greaseball were pretty vocal about it so she takes that with her. C.B. is a little scared of being so open about it, he's not used to really being loved.

3) who has trouble sleeping alone?

Dinah. C.B. has trouble sleeping together (the actual sleeping part, that is) (although... gay lil thing has never been with a girl before so...)

4) who swears more?

C.B., obviously.

5) who does more of the housework?

It's pretty equal. Dinah always did it for GB and C.B. always took care of himself, neither of them has a problem with household chores.

6) who forgets their anniversary?

Dinah. It happened just the one time, though, she'd had a very busy week.

7) who steals the duvet in their sleep?

Dinah. C.B. probably ends up sleeping on the ground anyway, lil thing is restless even at night.

8) who keeps the other awake at night with their snoring?

Neither.

9) who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them?

Both, but they differ in the type of animals. Dinah shows up with cute little puppies and cats, C.B. finds a chicken or a lizard or a frog or something.

10) who usually makes dinner?

Dinah lol.

11) who plays their music out loud?

C.B., and he sings and dances along too.

12) who hogs the bathroom?

Dinah. But C.B. just picks the lock and walks right in.

13) who gives the most compliments?

C.B. Before the championship it was one of his ways of turning any conversation around and getting the subject off of him, and the habit has stuck around.

14) who usually starts/causes arguments between them?

Dinah. She's determined not to repeat her failed relationship with Greaseball so she makes a point of standing up for herself. C.B. is much more relaxed, but when Dinah starts chewing him out over something as mundane as putting the salt shaker on the wrong side of the pepper shake he does get annoyed.

15) who isn’t afraid to embarrass the other in public?

C.B. lol. He loves subtly referencing their nightly adventures in a way that makes her turn all red and flustered. She's trying to get him back, but the lil maniac has no shame so so far she's only been embarrassing herself more.

16) who gives the other cringeworthy pet names?

Dinah does. Sugar pie, honey bunch

17) who fusses over takes care of the other when they get sick?

Dinah fusses over C.B. in all the usual ways: checking his temperature, tucking him in, making him soup... it drives him crazy, he just wants to be left alone, he doesn't do well with being taken care of. C.B. fusses over her too, but in a different, less traditional way. He's more subtle about it, but when Dinah's ill she'll suddenly find him more reluctant to leave for work, showing up with random small presents that distract her from the pain, or sitting with her and telling her stories while he strokes her hair.

18) who finds it impossible to stay angry at the other for long?

C.B., he misses her smile within minutes of them starting a fight. Dinah can stay angry for longer, but only because she feels like it's the only way to prove her point, she secretly really wants to hug him again.

19) who clings to the other for comfort when they’re sad or scared?

C.B. Poor lil thing is touch-starved and she is his beacon.

20) who is more ‘physically passionate’? (hugs, kisses, or maybe more…)

Both of them. Dinah has a crazy high libido and, having been with Greaseball for quite some time, is used to it getting satisfied all the time. C.B. can match her in that, but he has to make peace with being attracted to a woman first so that takes a while. Other than that Dinah loves to play with his curls, and he loves to do her hair or just dip her as he kisses her (he may have dropped her once, or twice, or several times -- poor lil macaroni is not strong).

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slashers + Jennifer Check x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Peeping Toms and Bets

Notes:

This is a remake and revamp of an old Oneshot request I did in my old blog. I hope you like this! 

Jed is changed to Bubba, because in this shot the character does act most like Bubba then Thomas or Jedidiah ^^ 

The 2 would you rather’s were found online.

Plot: Jennifer has invited you over for a sleepover and you ask her a very interesting question. Oh and the boys are all listening together in and betting on your response to the question. 

Warnings: Suggestive or course language. 

Chucky, walks down the hall, headed for the kitchen while he knows the succubus and her friend are hidden away in the living room, feels a harrowing sense of disgust at what he sees. Well, the disgust being only on a strictly face value basis. Mostly he’s interested to hear the excuses his fellow Slashers have for their camping outside the closed living room door while two teenage girls have a sleepover inside. The first one to notice his presence, when he stops is Bubba who was taking a break from straining his ears to listen to whatever’s happening inside and look down the hall. Where he spots the bright hair and plastic features of child terror. He gasps, quickly and quietly, and alerts the others by tapping spatially on Michael and Stu.

They all turn to see Chucky, and Michael’s shoulders drop heavily in exasperation. Can’t he be left in peace? Why’d all these people have to join him? Stu gasps along with Bubba, before dissolving into a slightly guilty turned down grin, on one side, looking to the floor. Freddy has the good humour to look guilty, too. But isn’t really.

“… what the hell are you two doing??!” Chucky finally manages to spit out, past his pure amusement of the, concerning and slightly horrifying, scene. He raises an eyebrow and feels a tad out of place but stands his ground, when Stu and Bubba ‘Shh’ him, violently. Spit breaking from their mouths, he’s sure.

Freddy nearly panics entirely and immediately smacks Stu’s hand away from his face, looking between those two idiots and the door. “Shut up! Both of you, you were louder than him!” While he goes off on the two, Michael just sighs and opts to look back through the crack in the door that he was peaking though. “And you! Shut it! They might hear you, and then we will all be in trouble.”

“’All’??” Chucky exclaims furiously, eyes wide and wholly incredulous. “I’m not playing peaking Tom on teenage girls as an old man- “

Freddy’s voice is barely a whisper, in fact it’s much more like TV static then a human voice, due to his burnt vocal cords. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, they’re dressed. This is not a porn video. To my knowledge girls don’t, in fact, get undressed to sleepover with each other.” Stu mumbles a quiet ‘Yeah, unfortunately’ and pouts, as a couple of them share a moment of silence for the tragic misconception. Including Chucky and even Bubba. Michael rolls his eyes, still stretching his neck to look through the crack, back against the wall. “Haven’t caught a glimpse. We’re just listening.”  

“And you don’t think they’d mind?” Recovered, Chucky smirks smugly, words dripping with sarcasm. Almost evilly, as if he’s 2 seconds from blowing their cover and telling Jennifer-or, worse. Jason, - what they’re up to.

Bubba looks nervous, at that, touching the tips of his meaty pointer fingers together and looking ashamedly thoughtful. But then Michael makes an audible ‘Pfft’ sound from under his mask like he really couldn’t care less if they minded, causing their plastic acquaintance to raise his eyebrows in surprise, he relaxes. If Michael doesn’t care, maybe he shouldn’t either. Michael is cool.  

What would Jason say, though? Just as Bubba’s thoughts on that are immediately shut off, when the TV inside the living room turns off and silences engulfs the area. Then the girls inside start talking, which understandably makes every boy or man on the other side of the wall turn on their listening ears to level 99 and lean towards the sound.

Chucky makes a split-second decision and joins them on the floor. To tell the truth, he doesn’t give a flying fuck whether the girls mind, either. But he had to pick on these assholes, so if Stu doesn’t stop snickering at him, he’s going to cut out the teenager’s tongue, wrap it up and use it as a stress ball. Stu seems to get the message when Chucky connects gazes with him, slowly touches his own tongue, and then mimes violently tearing it out.

//

After the obligatory 3 movies (One romance, one horror which was a tough decision due to your friends living arrangements of course, and one comedy), you and Jennifer stop to recoup and recharge, and start talking. You’re wrapped in blankets and your favourite pyjama’s, and she’s dipping into her coloured popcorn. The only sugar, to your knowledge, that this girl intakes. Its no wonder she’s so gorgeous. She decides on a diet and exercise regimen and sticks to it. Truly amazing. You? Well… you prefer your snacks to a model perfect body.

Surrounding the two of you are many, many pillows and blankets. Some you’ve come to realise were stolen from some of her roommate’s rooms, due to their particular smell and some concerning stains. Also, the one that evidently belongs to Michael has a violent looking hole in it and has stuffing poking out.

Another is a full size Hatsune Miku body pillow, and you don’t dare to ask whos’ room she snatched that one from. Although, you have your suspects. Confirmation, though, is an entirely different experience. And one that you would rather not have.

As you start talking, you dig into your own chosen caffeine for the night. You’re playing would you rather, of course.

Because its fun, to give your friend two horrible or disgusting options and make them choose one.

“Would you rather have uncontrollable gas at work for the rest of your life or for every first date you have for the rest of your life?”

“Work!” Jennifer decides, immediately, apparently horrified by the other prospect. “If I was an uncontrollable fart machine for all of my first dates, I would starve! Who cares if my stuffy boss smells eggs for the rest of his miserable life.”

She sure has some… strong feelings, about her non-existent future boss. You snigger, sipping your drink through a chewed straw. “Okay, okay…”

“Would you rather have an animal best friend, any animal, meaning if it were a bear or a horse you could ride them around, or be married to someone who is peak attractive for you.”

That stumps you, and for a moment you just sit there with your mouth open, thinking furiously. Jennifer grins wide. “A wonderful pet buddy or best sex??” And at that, she starts to laugh a bit, patting your knee. You’re lost! “Impossible!”

“I know what I’d pick-“

“Yeah I know what you would pick. Evil one.”

She laughs some more.

Evilly.

After a couple of minutes of that, her teasing you and you thinking, you finally decide. Although, you only say it very, very quietly and into a pillow, so no higher power hears and grants it.

After that, you feel the need to be evil as well and think for a few moments deeply about wat to ask her… then come up with something perfect. You smirk at her over your pillow and sit it back down on your lap, still holding it. “If the world was ending, and it was up to you to save it, and you did want to save it, and you had to sleep with someone to do that… who would it be?” She immediately opens her mouth to say a name, but you quickly, mischievously hold up your hand halt her, and add the evilness. “Thing is!! It has to be one of the Slasher boys that you live with. Patrick and Carrie don’t count.”

Like you did before, she stops. Slowly closes her mouth, and looks off into the distance. Stuck. “Uh, so… one of… Bubba, Chucky, Freddy, Jason, Billy, Stu, or Michael?”

Oh, damn. You think, realising you forgot to cast out Billy and Stu. Well, that was a bust attempt at causing her strife-

“That’s impossible! What the fuck??”

Oh, okay. That’s kind of sad for Billy and Stu… But, uh, good for you!

//

The creepy group outside the door, which has grown a few more hands and legs belonging to Billy and Jason. The former only being there as he was trying to stop them from being weird but had given up and got tired, so he sat down. Now he was, apparently, apart of this. Somehow.

Billy is here because his DVD player got jammed.

After hearing Y/N’s question, multiple reactions come from these Slashers.

1.       Chucky and Freddy are very creepy and partake in some wolfish grinning that frightens Bubba and puts off Jason.

2.       Stu goes very, very red, and grins a little goofy. He shut down the moment the question was issued, so he didn’t hear the incriminatingly insulting thing that Jennifer hinted about him.

3.       Bubba also goes bright red, and covers his face.

4.       And Billy pauses momentarily, having caught the ego crushing material, then takes a deep breath and sits up straighter. “Oof, so, lets lay some bets?”

Billy holds up 10 fingers, sitting cross legged the furthest away from the door or wall, in general. “For Jen saying Michael.” The said shape of Haddonfield turns gruffly to the Ghostface original, who shrugs and grins his knowing grin. “I could explain it to you, but then you would think I checked you out.”

“Oh no, but in reality, you just watch his movie once a month- once a week in 91.” Stu narrowly escapes Billy’s wrath, ducking out of the way and practically into Bubba’s lap when his friends reaches for his hair. Michael just deeply sighs, along with Jason and continues to watch.

“Moving on from that borderline embarrassing bit of information that I’m sure we’re all going to ridicule you for later, I have a bet too. Since you think she’ll pick Michael, I’ll put 50 on myself.”

“30 on Billy. Despite, his gayness.” Freddy adds, preoccupied listening into the living room, but never too preoccupied to tease.

“I’m not gay!”

“Its okay, Billy, its 2020. You can be open with us.”

“Fuck you man, you suck, you’re going down on the favourite Slasher list.”

Freddy just giggles at that, turning his full concentration back on Jennifer.

Jason sighs deeply, his shoulders literally raising and falling in an obvious effort to make it noticeable. It is noticeable, its just that no one cares that he disapproves. He sighs again, this time quieter to himself, in hopelessness. He refuses to gamble on this.

Stu holds up a hand full of fingers and a thumb, five. “On Y/N picking Jason.” Michael nods to that, agreeing and holding up both his hands, 4 times. He’s got 40 on Y/N picking Jason. Jason himself looks specifically at his fellow voiceless murderer Michael, in horror. He thought better, of him. Michael only shrugs in response, like ‘You shouldn’t have though so highly of me. That was stupid.’. besides, its October, he’s naturally bound to take more risks. Plus, he’s had an odd inkling, that Y/N’s liked Jason for a while. She comes over a lot for Jennifer, but sometimes she hangs with Jason instead.

Chucky smirks at the interaction. “As I’m obligated to always contradict everyone else, I’m going to bet fifty-five, on her picking Freddy.”

“Oh. Hell no.” Billy butts in, unhappy with these high ass numbers. “I’ve been flirting with Y/N for weeks. It’ll pay off, she’ll pick me.”

Bubba doesn’t bet. He remembers how Drayton and Chop Top get when they used to bet on horses, and it wasn’t pretty. He doesn’t want to be like that, no.

//

Jennifer’s still thinking a couple minutes later, and you’re starting to worry when she finally moves. And flops back on her mattress that she’d had Bubba carry down here for her, in the hopelessness of it all. You will be sleeping on the couch, but you’re on her mattress too right now for until you go to sleep. If you go to sleep. This particular question may take some time.

“Uhh… lets see… “You crawl up to her head and plonk down where you can see her face. She chews on the inside of her cheek, and then starts to think out loud for your benefit. “Billy’s our age, and so pretty,” You nod, understanding. He is very pretty. “But… “

“But?”

“Well, but… Michael is so big!” She throws her arms onto the mattress on either side of her body for emphasis, causing you to open your mouth and raise your eyebrows and the boldness, then laugh and nod at the same time. Yeah… yeah… that true too…

And a very interesting point… You think to yourself, dusting a gentle pink across your cheeks.

“Y/N, no. This is not a laughing matter!” She’s grinning, though.

You raise your hands, playing surrender. “No, no, of course not! I’ll stop!”

“You better.”

//

“Stop fucking around!” Freddy exclaims, not loud enough for either of the girls to hear of course. He grits his teeth. “I’m betting on the outcome of your decision, bitch! Shut up and say ‘Billy’!”

“So… “Chucky starts to rethink his decision to bet. “What happens if they don’t decide? Is the game off, or… ?”

Billy halts for a moment, then looks at Bubba for a second. “Oh, yeah Bubba? You think the money should go to the new TV fund?? Well, if you say so!”

Bubba immediately looks panicked and confused, a serious squawk escaping him aimed towards the others. He didn’t say that! He didn’t even think that! Honestly, he thinks it’s should go towards a chicken coup…

Jason quickly pats Bubba’s shoulder, still in a perpetual state of exasperation and tired, but still wanting to assure Bubba that, they know. Billy’s full of crap, we know you didn’t say that.

//

Finally, Jennifer decides and makes an ‘Ah!’ sound, moving her finger from her lips thoughtfully, to the air excitedly. She sits up and faces you.

Oh, this is very serious. It must be. It demands eye contact. “You’ve decided?

“Yes.” Her finger lowers to her shoulder height. “Okay so, I simply boiled it down to a science.”

“You did?” You ask, just humouring her.

“Yes. So,” She starts counting off Slashers from her list of possibilities with her fingers. “First of all, Freddy killed his wife. So, he’s out.” Well that makes sense. “And Billy tried to kill his girlfriend, so even though he’s sexy, he isn’t trustworthy either, so he’s gone too.” So far so good. “Jason’s rotting away, and ‘Au Decaying’ doesn’t really stimulate me to do anything apart from spray him with anti-bacterial and Hello kitty deodorant, despite his wonderful shoulders.” Oh, yes. Jason does have nice shoulders. “Then Bubba’s flesh mask is a complete turn off, Chucky’s a Good Guy, not a bad boy. And Stu’s a weirdo.”

You nod, a smile reaching your lips and the pure simplicity of her end decision, coming to the only conclusion. “So… Michael.”

“Yeah!”

“I don’t think he showers regularly.”

“Eh, neither do a lot of the boys I eat.”

//

Stu is gaping, very wide and very deeply. “A weirdo??” He looks in disbelief to his best friend and the victor. Michael nods, being hurtfully honest with the kid and Billy comforts him with a shoulder pat. He is also reeling. He hadn’t previously identified his Sydney fiasco as a warning for other girls… maybe he should have. This could be an issue.

“Yeah… man, you are a weirdo.”

“Thanks so much, buddy.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.”

“Bad boy?” Chucky asks, pleasantly surprised. He turns to Bubba, who’s looking indignantly at the door because his fashion is ahead of their time! “Do I have bad boy energy?”

Freddy sulks. “Oh… I get it… “

Jason rolls his eyes at them all. They’re all ridiculous!

//

“What about you?” Jennifer asks, turning the tables on you.

“Me?” You squeak.

“Yeah, you.”

“Well… “You square your shoulders, ready in the face of a challenge. “Well, lemme see… Well, Jason is strong, and sweet- “

“Oh yes.” You wince, at Jennifer’s sudden cold tone, as she squinty glares at you. “I know you think Jason’s sweet. You’ve abandoned me multiple times, to ang with him the kitchen! Betrayal!”

“Aha… ah… well, moving on! Chucky’s got a very hot aura!” You quickly push on, afraid of your friend’s wrath about Jason. “A-and, um… He’s also very handsome as a human, so I guess it wouldn’t be bad if he were in that form… “ Jennifer breaks out into a grin, glad to have made you stutter a bit, and back to her good mood. You sigh, back muscles relaxing. Evil girl.

“Yes, and the rest…?” Oh, she still wants you to answer the question, okay.

“Well. Stu’s tall, and rich. Which, of course, isn’t a deal maker but it’s a good point to mention.” Jennifer nods solemnly at that. “Michael provides a very nice… well, err, he would make a nice nude model. And Freddy’s got a really attractive voice, which I don’t think he knows which is very good thing, don’t let him know. And, Bubba’s so sweet. And Billy… is Billy. I don’t know what to say, he’s been flirting with me for weeks now.”

Jennifer rolls her eyes. “Mood.”

//

“I’m… Billy.” Billy grins, feeling proud of his persona for a moment and puffing out his chest in pride. Chucky gazes at Jason, like ‘Yeah, I guess he is the whole package… ‘, and Jason himself scotches away from the ginger doll. “I knew she was picking it up! I learnt all I know from movi-“

“Me, you know all you know from me.” Freddy cuts through, deadpanned.

“Which explains why she wasn’t jumping for joy when she mentioned it.” Chucky yawns.

“Hey!!” Chucky gets a chuckle out of that reaction from the two.

“Who cares?! This girl is just after my money!!” Stu exclaims, looking hopeless. He chuckles, haughtily then and crosses his arms. “Well guess what? None of its mine! It belongs to my parents! So, ha!” Michael shakes his head and looks disappointedly at the teenager. That doesn’t help your case… It really does not…

“Well Charlie, maybe I don’t need to flirt. My voice does it for them,” A devious smirk slips across Freddy’s face and he evilly cackles after a moment. Jason looks severely exasperated at him, and Freddy just sticks out his tongue. “Jealous.”

Bubba is touched that they think he’s sweet. That’s nice.

___ NOW MAKE YOUR DECISION! ___

Billy Loomis:

“I’m gonna have to disagree with you, Jen.” You grin and can’t help it. Its sort of a nice thought, to have to fuck Billy. “Billy’s the only choice.”

She scoffs and throws some of her popcorn at you.

//

Billy stretches and yawns, like he’s so very exhausted of that thing called being fuckable, and turns to look weirdly smug at Michael. “That’s right, only competition. She chose me.”

“-Only competition!? Excuse you, former bud!” Stu smacks his friend, scowling.

“Well that is what you get for outing my obsession with the Halloween movies to Michael fucking Myers.”

“You bitter thing!”

Bubba Sawyer:

“Aww, Bubba.” You decide, finally truly thinking about the cinnamon roll. You smile. “It has to be Bubba. He’s the cutest, and the nicest one here.” Jennifer makes a ‘yuck’ face.

“The mask??”

“That can be removed.” You reply quickly.

//

Bubba blushes brightly in the dimness of the hallway, pulling away from the wall he was listening to, between Stu and Jason continues to look bashful and gooey at the floor for a little while, until Jason realises he’s going to have to guide him home to hid basement bedroom and looks deeply unamused about it. But, still kind of happy for his-pseudo brother.

“BUBBA?! Who bet on Bubba?!”

Chucky/Charles Lee Ray:

Lowly, with an embarrassed, dark blush on your face, you mutter. “Chucky… “ Jennifer looks two seconds from king shaming you, so you rush to add. “In human form!! Dear God.”

“Oh… “She doesn’t look convinced, making you roll your eyes. “Yeah, sure. You tell yourself that. You go be nasty on the couch.”  

//

Chucky looks smugly at everyone, in turn, very, very happy with the outcome of that despite not winning the bet. “Yeah.” Freddy scowls at him.

“Don’t you look at me.”

“Yep, me.” Chucky ignores him. “Suck it.”

Freddy Krueger:

Realising who it would have to be, you widen your eyes and consider lying. But of course, decide to be honest. “Uh… well, um, Freddy… yup.”

She raises her eyebrows. “What if he goes batshit and tries to choke you to death?”

You laugh, at that. “Honestly, I do think choking would be a part of it, but in the case of danger I’ll just call you!” You grin cheerily at her. “Best friend!”

“Aye,”

//

“I don’t understand her.” Chucky feels the need to inform everyone. “But I just one the bet so good on her.”

“Four weeks, of my wonderful flirting, and I’m stabbed in the gut.” Billy groans, and throws is money on the floor. Shaking his head, he gets up and leaves, put out.

Stu sniggers, and gets up to follow him, turning back just to tell the others. “He’ll never recover.”

Freddy looks like he thinks he’s just won an Oscar. “I’d like to say a couple words!”

“Oh, christ.”

“I’d like to thank all my competitors for losing, and uh,” he finishes shining one of his knives on the edge of his jumper. “I promise to say hi to Y/N for you all later tonight when I visit her in her dreams.” Michael facepalms.

Jason Voorhees:

Finally, you decide and nod your head firmly. And exclaim, cheerily. “Jason! He’s perfect, I love, what a guy.”

When you look at Jennifer, immediately you let out a ‘YAH!’ scream and jump back, seeing her horrifying aura.

“I NEW THERE WAS SOMETHING GOING ON!”

“Stop itttttttttt!”

//

Stu facepalms. “Why did I only bet five???”

On the other hand, Michael smirks proudly under his mask, collecting his money. Yep, Jason. What a guy, indeed.

Everyone else, looks to the hockey mask wearing Slasher, who this whole time was against their listening and betting. How will he react?

He… has gone into silent shock. He may need some minutes alone. You… him?? You would pick him??? You… would pick him?? He raises his eyebrows under his mask like ‘Oh’. What is he supposed to do with this information?

“Yeah, I know hockey puck. This may be a shock for you, being ugly and all, but- Jason?”

Jason’s already up walking thoughtfully down the hall.

Michael Myers:

“Ahh, I have to agree with you. Totally Michael.”

“Told you!”

//

Michael but sits and experiences his punishment, which is many, many upset Slasher outcry’s.

“Both of them??!”

“Greedy bitch.”

“How??”

Michael sighs, and turns to an indifferent Jason for help. Jason looks at him and feels zero remorse for him, he brought this upon himself. He should not have been betting and spying.

Stu Macher:

“Well, these are all… interesting choices,” You start, cautious. “But, um… I think will go with Stu. Very cute, very funny. Very not connected to anything rotting, and... less stabby, then the others..”

“Well, that’s true. Probably a good choice.”

“Yeah,” You smile. “Okay, so, moving on. About that movie… “

//

Stu has this goofy ass, shocked, love struck look on his face that makes the rest of them a little nervous for about 2 seconds. Chucky takes the initiative pokes him. “Hey, Daffy Duck, what wrong with your fac- “

The 2 seconds ended, and so does Stu’s quiet, as he lunges up and grabs the doorknob, ready to throw it open and rush on in there and blow all their covers. Michael immediately shoots to action and grabs Stu’s leg to stop him, fighting not to let Stu shake him off. Everyone tries to vein to persuade him not to go, shut him up and clam him down, but their efforts are weak compared to the power of a horny teenager.

“Hey, hey!” Chucky exclaims, through everyone’s panicked whispered, grunts and frantic arm waiving, patting Michael on the shoulder. “… he’s gone.” With that out, Chucky shoots down the hallways as fast as his little legs can take him. Michael and Billy follow, because like hell they are going to get caught because Stu’s stupid, and Stu bursts into living room, revealing the other 3 still on the floor in the doorway… Freddy, incriminatingly on his knees just where the crack in the door would be, slowly, awkwardly waives and Jason bows his head in apology.

Bubba bolts.

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Master Post

My Master Post for Sanders Sides fanfiction! These are arranged chronologically from newest to oldest, measured by the date they were completed and uploaded in full, so that will reflect the quality here. (there’s a ton more under the cut btw).

Fast Friends - ao3... (15k Remus-centric intruality, lopsided enemies to friends to lovers, humor and a bit of angst with a happy ending. tw; emetophobes beware!) Patton doesn't like Remus, until one day, he does! Well, Remus isn't buying it. So Remus is not about to be friends with him just because he wants to (no matter how much it maybe, kind of wouldn't mind that).

I’m Not Sorry - ao3... (6k remus-centric intrulogical. continuation of Did You Miss Me. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.)  Remus just wanted to get home safe to his wonderful, loving boyfriend. If some greaseball guy thinks he can screw that up, then Remus is perfectly willing to let the night take a turn for the vengeful.

Redamancy - ao3... (5k romantic prinxiety, fluffy friends to lovers with a smidgen of misunderstanding.) Virgil is undoubtedly excited about Nico. The thing is, that’s not the only person he’s excited about. 

Did You Miss Me? - ao3... (13k romantic intrulogical, unhealthy relationship and mutual stalking treated light-heartedly. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat). Logan and Remus haven’t spoken in years. But that doesn’t stop them from keeping up with each other, through... various means. 

The Down (and up)-side of Individual Expression - ao3... (8k romantic logince, angst w/ a happy ending, prosey and dealing w/ some kinda touchy subject matter vis a vis body image). As the sides have taken on vastly differing appearances over the years, Roman and Logan find themselves incredibly attracted in body and mind to each other. The issue is, Logan still has some trouble believing it.

Tree Bark and Fresh Fruit - ao3... (Fusion AU part six! romantic royality fusion returns for some prose and a lil bit of h/c). Patron doesn't come around often, getting lost in the excitement of Patton and Roman's new romantic relationship- so when she gets a shot to exist again, he's determined to make the most of it by figuring out just what the heck he's supposed to be. 

Bitter Licorice and Bright-Blue Bubblegum - ao3... (Fusion AU part five! analogical fusion is back!)  Logan and Virgil end up fusing much more regularly, much to Livril's satisfaction at getting to exist, and virtually every other side's chagrin at having to put up with them. Everyone, it seems, but Patton.

Scary Monsters and Family Bonds - ao3... (Fusion AU part four! Platonic anxceitmus with romantic dukeceit, short and mostly meaningless.) Rennet, freshly born like five seconds ago, is desperate to find some people to bother and/or amaze. But instead, Rennet finds an attachment that nobody quite expected to be so intense, but hey, it's not complaining, and neither is Virgil. 

Acceptable Behavior - ao3... Remus is surprisingly concerned about his boyfriend's boundaries. (short & sweet intruality drabble. p/ much just cuddling)

On Truth and Untruth - ao3... Janus is allowed to participate in the group, and that is more than enough for them. Not too bad of a change up, really, and they aren't going to complain about it any time soon. Patton, however, insists on throwing a wrench into their system- their perfectly functioning, if maybe hypothetically a bit lonely, system. (28k word janus-centric romantic moceit and platonic dlampr, lots of angst and lots of yearning, with a happy ending. something of a character study.)

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chap.1, Chap.2, Chap.3, Chap.4, Chap.5, Chap.6, Chap.7, Chap.8, Chap.9 - ao3... (Finished!) Patton doesn't think of himself as misunderstood. More accurately, he's not very good at explaining himself. Remus explains himself perfectly well, succinct, confident. People are just bad at listening. Patton is lonely. He'd never say it out loud. No one knows. Remus is lonely. He says it in everything he does. No one knows. They're similar. They're different as can be. Contradictory, maybe; complimentary, definitely. They could be good for each other- they just need to explain it right. (hurt/comfort, eventual queer-platonic intruality, a healthy amount of angst).

Sharp Spikes and Glamour - ao3... (part three of my Fusion AU! a little angstier and racier than the others, but that’s thanks to the dukeceit dynamic, and its nothing too bad). Now, just a month ago, Remus could very confidently say that his and Janus’ relationship was perfect. And it still was, really, but that was before Roman and Patton had pulled some cartoon fusion bullshit that exactly no one had known was possible. There was no question. Remus was going to learn to do that.

Squishy, Precious Lil’ Baby! - ao3...  Very short, platonic intruality fluff. Remus turns into a rat for a scare, but Patton is very unafraid of him in the new form.

Black Cloth and Star Systems - ao3...   (Almost 4k fluff, part two of my Fusion AU! Very heavy on the descriptions, and also the Love that these two Have.) After Patton and Roman fuse, Logan can't help but feel desperately curious about this new discovery, and the possibilities of fusion between sides. But, his interest is a little more personal than he could stand to admit... Because what if- what if he could try it, too?

more under the cut

Flare Up - ao3... Human au drabble. Romantic sleepxiety. They are soft and in the rain.

Soft Walls and Roses - ao3... (Part one of my Fusion AU! Fluffy, sweet, and prose-y. Abt 3k.) On a nice, cheery day, Roman and Patton get a little lost in a dance <3.

Communication Issues (Alternative Title: Three Touch-Starved, Insecure, Metaphysical Beings Constantly Misinterpreting Each Other and Yet Somehow Falling in Love)- Chap.1, Chap.2, Chap.3, Chap.4 + Epilogue - ao3... (Finished!)  What do you do when you find someone crying, and it’s all your fault? What do you say when you hear the muffled sobs and frantic words behind the blood-red door? When you know that, no matter how much you never wanted to hurt him- never wanted to hurt anyone- you still did. Is there anything you can do to fix it, when you’ve spent so long pretending that nothing was broken? When you’ve spent so long pretending that you didn’t care if things were broken or not? (Second Person, Present Tense. H/C slowburn. romantic analogince. Note: this is not an ‘x reader’ fic, it’s just 2nd person pov.)

A Study in the Pains of Romance as a Genre - ao3... Logan wasn’t 'insecure', by most measures. Sure, he wasn't exactly in love with himself, but he knew the harm that came of self-deprecation, and was careful to avoid it. At the worst of times, he could solidly be called 'self-neutral'. Therefore, it followed that Logan was being entirely objective when he said that he would not be a good enough romantic partner for Roman. (Friends to Lovers, abt 4k, romantic logince).

I Like You, Say It Back. - ao3... Short, sweet, slightly angsty first ‘I Love You’ between Virgil and Remus. romantic dukexiety.

A Misplaced Imbalance of Fear - ao3... almost 7k friends to lovers fastburn, in that this happens in a day. Set during/right after Putting Others First, a little peak into what Virgil and Remus were doing. Hint; being a little sad and very gay. romantic dukexiety.

The Ballroom - ao3... Every side has a room, but they also come with a special domain, completely individualized to each one. Of these Extensions, the only room that no side (other than its owner) has ever seen is Janus’. At least, until he falls head-over-heels for Roman and finally lets him in. (romantic roceit).

Hypothetically, - ao3... Nearly 7k friends to lovers, with a hearty helping of platonic logince. Logan likes to use the Imagination for experiments, but he can’t manage to use it on his own. The solution is obvious. (romantic intrulogical).

No Other Version of Me - ao3... Patton isn’t very happy about his new froggy features, but Janus finds him gorgeous all the same. Hurt/comfort! romantic moceit.

Complexities Unknowable- Chap.1, chap.2, chap.3, chap.4, chap.5, chap.6, chap.7 - ao3... (Finished!) Slowburn with pre-established Dukeceit, rivals to friends to lovers, with Background Analogince (plus some platonic anxceit and Creativitwins thrown in for funsies). romantic deintruality.

I’d Like To Stand By Him - ao3... Roman and Virgil listen to each other’s playlists. romantic prinxiety.

An Open and Honest Conversation About Our Feelings - ao3... hurt/comfort, shamelessly self-indulgent. Patton doesn’t come out of his room all day, so Virgil goes to check up on him. romantic moxiety.

Something to Uplift Us - ao3... Roman-centric (and Remus-centric) DLAMPR (platonic Creativitwins!). Quarantine shenanigans; the boys put on a show for their boyfriends!

Thursday Nights - ao3... Short fluff where Remus and Patton watch a horror flick together and cuddle. romantic intruality.

5 Times Logan Helped His Partners Get Their Shit Together +1 Time They Returned The Favor - ao3... Summary’s in the title on this one, Bud. Logan-centric romantic DLAMPR (platonic p & r), very hurt/comfort.

[debu-neko-kun]

Brand New Moo

A brand new story, idea courtesy of the ever-excellent commissioner (https://www.deviantart.com/doom7951) I really really liked working on this for ideas that may be obvious! Stay tuned for more flubby boys soon-ish! Contains: male weight gain, ssbhm, male lactation, human to boy-cow, cute fat gay stuff

James slumped down in the seat. It felt so wrong to be waiting here, he thought, thinking about what his boss would say if he saw him sitting here… he tapped his foot on the floor, hoping that would make him feel busy, but it just earned him a dirty look from the receptionist, so he opted to just slump deeper into his chair.

“James Rode?”

He sat up, smoothing out his button-up shirt. “Yes?”

“The doctor is available to see you now. Please enter the door to the left.”

James entered the office, expecting to see a sterile hospital room with gurneys and little jars of tongue depressors… Instead, he found himself in a carpeted room, the walls all wood paneling and decorated with diplomas and woodsy paraphernalia like bundles of herbs and wooden carvings.

Perhaps he knew less about this therapy stuff than he thought.

“Hello, Mr. Rode. I’m pleased to see you’ve made it; have a seat, if you’d like.”

James hesitated by the door. ‘I would *like* to go home…’ he mumbled, but stepped his way to the wide couch situated in front of the desk. He gently lowered himself into it, feeling more than a little small with his slender frame surrounded by so much empty seat.

“A little introduction, if I may.” the therapist smiled, tapping the plaque on his desk. “Dr. Maxwell Sweet. I used to own Sweet Farm Dairy, if you can believe it.”

“Never heard of it.” James spoke.

“Ah, well, can’t impress every time.” he chuckled, continuing on about his schooling, but James was already zoning out, sizing him up in his head. Dr. Sweet was slim, pale, well-dressed… probably didn’t spend too much time outside anymore, if the dairy story was to be believed. He wore glasses, making him seem bookish, and the clean-shaven face and well-kempt part in his smoothly combed brown hair made him seem concerned with appearances… not much to go on yet, but James felt like he’d make a respectable adversary in the boardroom regardless.

“…but I felt genetics wasn’t as fulfilling by itself. Are you okay, Mr. Rode?”

“Hmm?” James snapped out of his focused expression, taking a moment to rub his sharp blue eyes. “Sorry, a little tired. Late meeting yesterday…”

“Do you have a lot of late meetings, Mr. Rode?”

“James,” he corrected, “But yeah, I suppose I do. It’s the only way to stay ahead out there, you know?”

“I understand.” Dr. Sweet smiled, scribbling something on a pad on his desk. “Would you say this is the main source of your stress? The pressure to succeed, that is.”

“I, uh-” James stammered. “Are we starting already? I thought you would say when we were starting.”

“Just building a picture, that’s all. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to let you know when we get into the real stuff, if you’d like.”

“Okay, well… thanks.” James wilted a little. He wasn’t used to this, showing his cards so openly…

“Stress is the main reason you’re here, correct?”

“Yes… I mean, well, I’m here because of my boyfriend… I didn’t notice anything, but my boyfriend Kriss says I’ve been acting stressed.”

“Stressed in what way?”

“Distant… angry, sad, stuff like that. He says I haven’t been eating either, but I mean, when do I have the time? There’s just a lot to do, and nobody gets that. Nobody understands how hard it is to keep doing the same damn thing day after day, never getting a moment to just stop and relax. It’s not my fault I have to stay a few hours over every day, it’s not my fault I miss the train, it’s not my fault I have to stay with this job or else-”

James stopped, noticing the psychologist watching him intently, a furrowed-brow intensity in his expression.

“Sorry.” James sighed, folding his arms over his ribs, his gaze drifting back to the dried lavender on the wall. “Yeah. Just stressed.”

“I see,” Dr. Sweet said, underlining something on the pad with a quick scratch. “Well, I’m very glad you came to see us, James. I think this treatment will be very helpful in getting you into a better state of mind.”

“Yeah… that’s what Kriss said, too. What is this treatment, anyway? Are you just going to ask me about my past and… give advice, or something?”

“Oh, nothing like that, no. You see, I specialize in a sort of blended treatment. It’s quite ahead of its field, really. Good for people with a lot of stress and little time on their hands.”

Dr. Sweet drew a pile of papers out of his desk, dozens of forms and documents all neatly compiled into a novella of legalese. He set it gently on the desk, in front of James, and extended a pen out for him.

“…Provided you’re willing to participate, that is.”

James took the pen and the papers, sitting back to read over the front page. It was mostly filled out with his insurance information and medical history, employment information from his company, current address… everything except his name. He flipped it over, just finding more information about liability and “understanding patient responsibilities.” Just thinking about pouring over fifty sheets of legal information outside of the office, and for free, made him flip back to the front.

“Alright… well, whatever gets me out of here faster, I guess.” he murmured, scribbling his name at the bottom of the paper.

“Excellent! If you don’t mind, I’d like to get started immediately.”

Dr. Sweet’s drawer slid open, and out he pulled a small bottle of milky white fluid and a syringe.

“W-What is that for?” James asked, shocked at the sudden development. The therapy scenes in movies certainly hadn’t mentioned needles.

“Just something to help you become a little more pliable. We need you like putty for the hypnotherapy to take hold; don’t worry, it only lasts for a few minutes, and it’ll keep you relaxed for the rest of the day. That’s not so bad, is it? I promise you won’t have to keep up with any medication from here on out.”

Despite the cold sweat forming on his brow, James rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm. Dr. Sweet drew some of the liquid from the bottle with a casual precision, stood up, and slowly approached the nervous patient.

“Hold still, and…” James felt a small pinch, followed by the dull ache of the injection. “That’s it. You’ve done wonderfully already, James.”

“Hmm… thank you, I guess.” he grumbled, letting out a heavy sigh.

“The medication should activate momentarily. While we wait, why don’t we pass the time with a bit of word association?”

The room around them was already starting to feel a bit… warmer. Familiar, even. He adjusted his collar a bit, leaning back against the couch.

“Do you know how this works, James?”

“I just say the first thing that comes to my head?” he asked, stifling a yawn with his palm.

“Correct. Alright now… your first word is “barn.””

“Tractor.”

“Good.” Sweet smiled. “Your second word is ‘pasture.’”

“Uh… grass. No, hay.” He muttered hazily. He felt like laying himself down on a soft patch of land, sunlight warming his pale flesh,,,

“Very good, James. Don’t think too hard about them. Now, your third word… ‘milk’.”

“Moo…” he spoke dreamily, still thinking about the sunlight and the field. A bubble of lucidity popped to the surface suddenly, bringing a blush to his face. “N-No, I, uh, I mean cow. Cow, that’s it.”

“Excellent.” Dr. Sweet continued, scribbling more notes on his pad. “And when you think of cows, what are some words you think of?”

“Big… u-uh, soft? I don’t really know…”

“That’s fine, James. Imagine a cow standing in a field… what do you think it’s thinking about?”

A warm, electric tingle trickled down from the top of his head, flowing into his spine and down his back. He tried to focus on the words… what does a cow really think about?

“Uhm… eating? How nice the sun is on its back?…”

“And how do you think it feels when it’s warm and fed? Do you think that would make a cow happy, James?”

The tingle turned into an odd, pulsing sensation, coming from somewhere in his core… or maybe deeper than that. A warmth in his cells.

“Y-Yeah… doctor, this feels… weird…”

“The medication can be a little strong, especially the first time. But just focus on my words… would that make you happy, James? Softness, warmth, food… nothing to think about but being tended to? I like to think so.”

“Hmf… y-yeah, that’d be nice…”

Soft… warm… hungry…

“Good,” Sweet began, suddenly dropping his pen. James jolted upright, forced free from his mental drift as quickly as the pen hit the desk. “That’ll conclude our session. Remember what we’ve talked about today; it’s always good to stay in touch with that simple, wholesome part of yourself. Try and slow down a little, and indulge it; I think you’ll be feeling a lot better if you do. See you again in a week?”

“Y-Yeah… yes, that’d be fine.”

“I look forward to it. Be well, James.”

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

The sun was just beginning to set by the time James arrived home. Warm wafts of sweet and savory air swept around him as he shuffled through the threshold, inviting him straight through the living room and into the kitchen. There, a tall, clean-shaven man with swept back blonde hair stood, whistling to himself. The creak of the floor alerted him to James’s entrance, the apron-clad gentlemen turning to greet him.

“Oh, hey! I thought for sure you’d be running a little late, I’m not totally done with dinner yet. How did your appointment go?”

“Mm, that smells wonderful…” James murmured, slumping into one of the dining chairs. “God, I’m starving….”

“Here,” Kriss, his boyfriend of two years, spoke, setting a dish of buttered buns in front of him. “But don’t fill up before you get to the ham. I worked really hard on it as a nice reward for you finally going to that clinic. Speaking of…”

Kriss sat down in front of him as he stuffed a bun into his mouth, propping his face up on his hand. “You didn’t say how it went.”

“The appointment? Right, sorry… it was okay. Good, actually. It was good. It was kind of weird, and I didn’t think I’d need a shot for psychotherapy, but… it was nice. I feel all calm and… gooey? I can’t really explain it… really hungry, too. Mostly hungry, actually.”

James reached for another bun, nibbling on it gently. 

“Well, I guess it’s working already. I haven’t seen you eat like that in… well, ever. It’s nice, honestly.” 

The oven alarm beeped as James polished off a third bun, absentmindedly chewing while Kriss got up to retrieve the ham. 

Soft… warm… hungry… the words bounced around his brainstem, burying themselves somewhere in the middle of sub and thoughtful consciousness. He remembered saying them, but the meaning was mostly detached… regardless, they just sounded so right. 

His ruminations were interrupted by a loaded plate being placed in front of him, also interrupting his roll supply. He breathed in the delicious scents of brown sugar in the ham, cinnamon in sweet potatoes. It was like nothing he’d ever smelled before; it was comfort, it was calm. It was… “Mmf, Kriss, this is incredible. Is this a new recipe? I could eat this forever!” he lit up, happily nibbling on the ham slice with gusto. 

“Oh, uh… we had it last week, actually. Whatever they gave you sure made you hungry, huh?” he chuckled, looking a little confused, but relieved at the new development. After all, it was healthier than watching him starve himself on coffee and the occasional stick of gum. In only a few moments, James had the entire plate polished off, and returned to munching on bread rolls. “Want some more? I made extra in case you wanted to take some to work, but-” “There’s more?” 

Kriss hadn’t seen him this happy since he’d said yes to their first date. 

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

“A-Ah, Kriss-!” 

“Shh, we’re almost there.” Kriss cooed, shouldering the bedroom door open, his boyfriend carried bridal-style in his arms. Normally, this would be like carrying a bag of flour, but after his uncharacteristic gorging, James felt more like a sack of potatoes. Or, perhaps, one large sack filled with one very large, round, painfully full potato in the center. 

“I’ve never eaten so much in my life…” James whispered as he laid out on the bed. He immediately curled onto his side, holding his stomach in his hands. “I can tell… are you sure you’re okay, babe? You can tell me anything, you know.” “I-I’m fine, honestly… just ate too much.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean.” A familiar silence crept out of the dark now, cutting into the dim room between them. Finally, James spoke, “Kriss, I just- well, I’m not good at this, I haven’t… been there, like I should have. We’ve been together for a long time now and I still haven’t really… opened up.” Kriss sat down on the bed next to him, looking at the sheets next to James. James reached out, grabbing Kriss by the hand. “I’m sorry. Really. I’ve been too into my job and I want to spend more time with moo-”

He hiccupped, covering his mouth in sudden embarrassment. “You! God, I’ve had cows on the brain lately…” 

“You certainly eat like one.” Kriss smiled gently, poking his stomach. “H-Heh… so, uhm,” James said, “Will you give me another chance? To show you the real me… not the work me. Actually me?” Kriss leaned over, brushing the tousled hair out of James’s face. “Of course, sweetpea. You know I’ll give you all the time you need to get back in your own head again. And while you’re still trying…” 

Kriss cupped his cheek, and leaned in to plant a little kiss on his soft lips. “Maybe I can do something to keep you motivated.” 

“C-Careful, my belly’s still sensitive…!” 

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

Kriss woke before James-- given his “work early, work late” schedule, this was an uncommon occurrence, but not an unwelcome one. He liked the way James looked peacefully slumbering; it reminded him that he could still stop and relax, that at least he wasn’t hard-wired to run until he dropped. That the hamster wheel didn’t spin forever. He snuggled up closer to his slumbering partner’s back, looping his arm around his side in a gentle embrace. Kriss’s fingers brushed his chest, expecting to feel cool, taut flesh on ribs… instead, his hand touched soft, plush breast. 

“H-Huh?” he muttered, startled, his hand recoiling instantly. He knew James, and had never known him to be any more than twiggy at best. Panic rising, he threw off the sheets and flipped on the bedside lamp, exposing the tubby imposter. There, on the bed, was James-- or, at least, he thought it was… same messy black hair, same little blotchy brown birthmark on his shoulder, same pink underwear. This James would have been a perfect replica, if it weren’t for one big thing: 

This James was fat. 

Well, fat was pushing it, but he definitely had a lot more of it than when he went to bed. His back, once a bony map of shoulder blades and ribs, was now a padded mat of pale pudge, the vaguest hint of love handles forming at his sides. Butt fat pulled his briefs tight, the waistband receding back to squish the tops of his cheeks into two blubbery cupcake tops. His thighs, once slender and toned from his constant jogging around the office building, smooshed together like gently dimpled bags of thick jelly. 

“Mmmn?...” he stirred, sitting up. His round face squinted against the harsh light, and he raised a chubby hand to shield himself from it. Kriss’s green eyes darted up to his rounded arm, down to his puffy chest, back up to his cutely dimpled chin, back down to the subtle dome of his belly. 

“Kriss?... Oh no, did I oversleep?”

The words clogged in Kriss’s head; what could he say? James was nervous, prone to panic at the slightest change… “You’re… you-” he choked quietly, staring in disbelief. James, following his line of sight to his belly, let out a little yelp of surprise. 

“W-What happened to me? I-I didn’t eat that much, did I?...” he stammered, poking the peachy flesh of his abdomen gingerly. 

“Impossible…” Kriss whispered, stepping back towards his boyfriend. “Maybe it’s just… water weight? Temporary swelling? Are you allergic to anything?” 

Pressing the gentle swell of his arm, it was impossible to think this could just be temporary. “I don’t think so…”

“Well, in any case, I think we should call a doctor.” Kriss said, stepping over to the dresser. “If I can find my phone…” 

“Just… use mine.” It took a moment to tear his eyes away from his freshly-plush body long enough to reach for his cell, thumb tapping the home screen. The time-- 5:55 am-- appeared on the screen.

“Oh! No no no, I’m going to be late!” 

“James, the doctor-” 

“I’ll go after work! I need to get ready; how did I forget the early meeting? I never forget!” 

James scrambled to his feet, butt bouncing in his underwear as he bounded into the bathroom, the door shutting quickly behind him. “Kriss, can you find a white shirt for me, please? And my good watch!” 

“If they still fit…” Kriss mumbled with a sigh, shuffling to find his clothes. So much for the fast-track relaxation therapy. 

‘Give it time,’ he thought, ‘Nobody changes overnight.’

But as he pulled out the obviously too-small button-up from the closet, he suddenly began to doubt these words. 

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

James rushed into the office, speed-walking his way through the lobby to the elevator. He barely managed to squeeze by in time for the doors to shut, his belly bumping against the metal as he slipped in. 

“Ouch…” he murmured, regarding his sensitive new softness with a little rub. It was only with this did he notice how stressed the buttons were on the shirt, or how a thin sliver of belly fat was drooping out of the bottom. He quickly pulled his pants higher to disguise it, tucking in the shirt like he wasn’t covering for a freak medical condition. Not like it helped much… the fabric was still ungodly tight against his chest, outlining his newly-blossomed moobs like half-filled water balloons in cloth, and similarly highlighted the uncharacteristically pudgy belly beneath. At least his pants had always been a little big for him… they, at least, did a little better at preserving his modesty. 

He waited impatiently for the ding, and squeezed through the doors before they’d fully opened, managing to narrowly avoid two coworkers on his way to the meeting room. They said something he didn’t quite hear, but he heard the word “wide”, which was enough to make him flush gently. No time for that, he thought, walking as fast as he could muster with what felt like fifty extra pounds bouncing on his frame. Sweating lightly, he finally arrived at the meeting room, slipping in just before the last coworker. They scoffed at his speedy entrance, but upon seeing his unusually rounded face, decided that it wasn’t worth starting a fight over-- he was clearly suffering enough if he looked like *that* after just one day. 

“Well, ladies and gentlemen…” James’s boss began, addressing the crowd. And so it was, James thought, letting the voices around him whisper out into the back of his mind. He’d wait until his name was called, he’d give his report, and then he’d be back to hammering out the numbers until home time. The daily routine… though, there was nothing ‘routine’ about today, as the chair was quick to remind him. Where he used to sit at the edge of the seat, he now filled it out plentifully; so much so that the chair arms touched his sides if he fidgeted an inch or so in either direction. It was an alien feeling, being so plump- he couldn’t even bring himself to say it, but the words hung there in his mind. 

Round. Chubby. Soft. Thick. *Fat.* 

He grabbed his thigh amidst his anxious ruminating, fingers squishing pliable blubber beneath the trouser fabric. The sensation sent warm, pleasing tingles across his flesh, rumbling deep into his core. It felt… nice? 

He scanned the room, making sure nobody could read the feelings passing through his mind and body, but everyone else seemed to be knee-deep in their own happy places too; zoning out to cope was half of the job, after all. A sudden, deep gurgle bubbled in his belly, his hand shooting up to grab at his belly. Where his thigh had been plush, his belly was absolutely pillowy… the silky smooth glob of fat oozed around his fingers where he pressed, sending out another wave of delight across his body. As if to respond to his pressing, another gurgle rumbled against his palm, and he could feel his stomach rising like slow baked dough with his breaths. In, out… warm, soft. He couldn’t help but smile, sucked into the world of squishy comfort. Even as his belly rose in the *out* breath. Even as the chair began to press into his sides ever so softly. Even as the buttons stressed and strained, struggling to keep up with his widening form until- 

*PING* The first button on his shirt reflected off a steel mug, snapping everybody out of their stupor with a jolt. 

“What was that?” the boss asked. Everybody looked around, but thankfully James’s airy belly was covered by the desk. 

“Hmm… well, in any case, that’s the long and short of it.” the boss shrugged, shuffling some papers in his hands. “James, you’re up.” 

James looked up, half-lidded in a relaxed daze. “Huh?...” 

“Your numbers. You *do* have your report, don’t you?” 

Like an apple in a cauldron of caramel, the thought of the report slowly bobbed back to the top of his focus. 

“O-Oh, right, yes sir, I uh…”

He reached for his briefcase, grasping at air beneath the desk. 

“Is everything alright, James?” 

Everybody in the room shuffled, slumped, retreated back to the comfort of the sounds and sights of desert islands and snowy cabins. Meanwhile, he was out in the open, and floundering. 

“They’re, uh… late. Late client.” he smiled nervously. The boss looked at him, eyes narrowed in confusion, but simply shook it off. 

“Just have them on my desk by tomorrow, okay? Now, who’s next?” 

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

Back at his desk, (and with his pants hiked higher than ever) James let out a deep sigh, wincing as his buckle pinched sensitive belly fat. 

“Just keep it together, James....” he whispered to himself. He tried to bounce his leg, but found that it just made the rest of him bounce too, and stopped. He logged into his computer with one hand, the other squeezing the stress ball on his desk, but it only reminded him of how much softer he was… 

Throwing the ball in the trash can by his foot, he decided his best bet was to focus on his work. Not on the fat ass threatening to blow out the seat of his pants, not on the small overhang his belly would surely be creating if he wore his pants correctly. And not on the strange warmth rushing to his head… just financial information, market watches, and emails. 

Five minutes later, and he was still staring at his home screen, unable to bring himself to start working. There was just something at the back of his mind, something creeping up on him; a deep hunger that swelled up inside of him like a consumptive balloon. 

“That’s it… just hungry is all…” he assured himself, pushing away from his desk. All he needed was an early lunch, and it would be back to work as usual. Something light…

Before he knew it, he was sitting down at the cafeteria with three hefty cheeseburgers and a heaping plate of thin fries drowned in cheese. 

James took a thick, mouth-filling bite of a burger, losing himself in bliss. 

“Mmf, so good…” he moaned to himself, prompting a blushing intern to speedwalk to the exit. One hefty gulp down, he sucked down a glob of sugary vanilla milkshake, chasing it with a handful of fries and another bite of burger. Not only did it chip away at the hunger, but his worry too. Suddenly he felt okay; eating like this felt *right*. He absentmindedly rubbed his belly, the gentle touch enough to rip away another button and rub cheese onto his shirt. He didn’t care; why should he? The belly beneath his hand was soft, fat, and jiggly, and it was fun to pat and wobble. And the more he ate, the more he was able to wobble it. One burger down-- and another button popped-- he felt twice as comfortable. Arm fat billowed out in his shirt, small rips forming that pushed dollops of fat through. Pant fibre finally reached capacity, pulling back from his pudgy calves as his thighs claimed ever more real estate within them. Fingers and toes chubbed into cute little sausages. Wrists, ankles, and neck slowly became less defined. Cheeks chubbed, chin flubbed; his masculinity was smudged by the heaps of fat, androgyny taking the wheel. 

But still he munched, a happy grin on his face as he grazed the haystack of fries. The warm feeling in his head turned hot, two points burning the warmest… but two points on his chest gained his attention the most. His chest-- rather, his breasts-- ached terribly, prompting a whine from the freshly cherubic gentleman. Pudgy fingers pawed at the last button left on his shirt, but it was simply too tight to be undone. Instead, he opted to just rub at his moobs beneath the fabric, gulping his shake heartily. Finally, the button popped, and he let out a sigh of relief as his fat breasts plapped onto his belly. The sudden motion forced milk out of the little pink nipples in small rivulets, drops running down the curve of the swollen mounds and dripping onto his belly. 

“G-Guh…” he groaned, scooping the last of the food into his maw just as his belt buckle burst off. He was exhausted, but sated… for now. Already, his mind was feeling clearer, and already he was starting to regret the sudden gorging… he was huge! And was that… milk?! “Sir, if you’re going to be in here, you need to put on some clothes-” 

The security guard looked taken aback as James turned and unsteadily rose, his pants open and his shirt hanging free. His ass fat rose behind him like two fat pumpkins squeezed into a pair of briefs, rising up with plentiful flesh visible. 

“A-Are you okay?...” 

James huffed, wobbling on his feet as he attempted to center himself. “I’m- *bruuuarp* o-oh, sorry…” 

The guard just stood, watching him slowly lumber out of the cafeteria and off towards the elevator. 

“They don’t pay me enough for this…” 

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

The slow drive was filled with a quiet anxiety, wondering if Kriss was right: what if he had just gone to the doctor in the first place? Why didn’t he just go to a real hospital to see why he was dripping milk all over the upholstery? That was it, though. He knew why he was like this… where else could it have come from? 

Doctor Sweet. 

Sweat dripped from his apron of a belly as he squeezed in through the front door. The receptionist simply buzzed him through, and he waddled straight into the pastoral office. 

“Aha, James! Right on schedule. Please, have a seat.” 

James panted heavily, taking the time to rest on the doorway before he entered. 

“What… did you do?” he huffed, continuing on towards the desk. “Look at me! This… has to be some kind of reaction… to that medicine!” 

The doctor smiled, unfazed by his bloated appearance. “I’ll say. I’d be more than willing to explain it, if you’d just have a seat.” 

James stopped, the exhaustion he felt quickly overtaking his urges towards aggression. “F-Fine…” 

The massive boy collapsed in the seat like a falling boulder, nearly taking up the whole couch with his bulk. 

“Excellent. Now then… you said there was a reaction, yes?” 

James gestured to his body. 

“So… chills, fever…?” 

“I’m fat! I’m huge! I’m… l-leaking!” he burst out, wobbling in anger. Try as he might to seem imposing, he felt like a bowl of pudding. 

“Oh. Oh dear, I see the problem… you must’ve skipped the waiver.” Dr. Sweet sighed, shaking his head.  “Well, too late for take backs now, I’m afraid.” 

James put his hands on his belly in worry. “W-What do you mean?”

“Well, if you’d read the waiver… you’d see that this therapy involves a permanent genetic alteration.”

“G-Genetic?...”

“Yes. We force a mutation-- I won’t get too deep into it now, there’s really no use-- to shave off the rough edges, essentially. I felt it would be important in your case to emphasize the potential for softness, and it seems your body agreed. Surround yourself with soft, and become soft.”

“That… that’s-” James struggled, trailing away quietly. 

The doctor continued. “You see, I was like you at a time. Angry, frustrated, stressed, upset at life… but my time as a dairy worker gave me new insight. Being surrounded by gentle docility at all hours of the day taught me to be gentle and caring myself. But this process took years... once I started in medicine, I spent endless hours trying to find how to distill this process into a formula, to turn the experience into a chemical.” 

James watched him with confusion, hands gently kneading his fat to keep himself calm. 

“Well, I discovered it alright. It’s a bit unwieldy, but with a little guided thinking, it works wonders. Really brings the farm experience home, wouldn't you agree?”

James looked down at his belly, at his nipples streaming milk onto his bellybutton. “Y-You’re saying I’m turning into…”

“A cow, yes. You’re well on your way, in fact. Here, take a look.” 

The doctor withdrew a handheld mirror from his desk, and held it up for James to see. He felt like he was staring into a barber mirror, only instead of finding himself with a new haircut, it was fuzzy cow ears and a set of tiny, nubby horns on his head. And somehow, it didn’t feel wrong… in fact, he felt pretty cute.

“Oh… woah…” he murmured, poking the ear gently. 

“See? Nothing to worry about! And just as stated in the forms, you’ll be paid a weekly sum for participating in this new therapy. I doubt a cow would be acceptable in an office building, aha.”

James patted his cheeks, a smile forming on his face. 

 “And if you’ll allow me…” 

The doctor set down the mirror, and withdrew a familiar milky white bottle. 

“...I’d like to finish what we started.” 

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

Kriss waited in the kitchen, checking his watch every few minutes, waiting for James to get off of work so he could take him to the hospital. He shouldn’t have even let him go to work… what if he was more sick than he thought? What if it wasn’t just swelling? What if-

*Thud* The front door shut, and Kriss sprang up from his chair, scrambling into the living room. 

“James-” 

The breath caught in his chest as he took in the full scope of his boyfriend. The 200-and-change chubster who had left that morning had blossomed into a wide, easily 600 lb. wall of blubber. He stared up at his polished, nubby horns, at his furry ears, down at his absolutely shirt-shredding tits… blood rushed into his face so fast he stumbled, nearly falling forward. 

“Oh no, are you okay?” James asked, bright blue eyes full of worry. He waddled forward, belly rippling against the front of each knee as he slowly walked like he was wading through waist-high waters.  His chest swayed back and forth, barely contained by a tiny stretched-out tee. Despite being more than three inches taller than him, Kriss suddenly found himself pressed face first into warm boy cleavage, peachy flesh enveloping him. James’s flabby, pillowy arms pressed around his back as he cuddled him in an embrace. 

“What… happened?” he breathed, head spinning as he tried to process the changes in his boyfriend. 

“O-Oh! Right… it’s part of the therapy! Dr. Sweet made me into a big cuddly cow, and I really like it!” he smiled, clasping his chubby hands together. “Though, we may need to get some new clothes… these shorts are kinda tight on my butt.” 

For added emphasis, he slowly turned around, revealing the skin-tight shorts had all but retreated into his huge, bare ass, the rolls of his back flab sagging down to nearly meet the top of them. 

“A-Aha... “ Kriss said, woozy once more. He clutched the wall to keep from falling over. 

“Do… do you not like it?” James asked, timidly pushing his fat thighs together. His ears twitched gently, sending an arrow straight through Kriss’s heart. 

“When I read the waiver, I didn’t expect it to be like, well… all of this. Babe… you’re so adorable my head is going to explode. ”

A happy smile brightened his face once more, and James let out a little laugh. “G-Gosh, don’t scare me like that!” 

Headrush fleeting, Kriss managed to push off the wall and back into the arms of his lover. He pecked at his blubbery neck, giving him gentle kisses up and across his cheek. 

“O-Ooh, these are nice…” Kriss murmured, squeezing his arms around his chest. “You’re like a big stress ball, I love it.” 

“H-Hey, careful, they’re still a little full…”

Kriss moved in for a kiss on the lips, pulling away to give his chest another little squeeze. “Full? Like… with milk?” 

James nodded. “You’ll have to milk me until the pump arrives, otherwise they’ll get too full and I’ll start to ache… that is, if you want to. I can still just go to the clinic-” 

Kriss tugged at his shirt, freeing one of his blubbery boobs. His thumb traced the nipple gently, practically melting James into a puddle. 

“A-Ah, god, have you done this before?...” 

“No…” Kriss said, bringing the breast to his mouth. Sweet, creamy milk flowed onto his tongue, which he swallowed down. “But I can learn.”

[scavengerbird]

A Conversation in a Car

“I know it’s cold out, but I like driving with all the windows down now. I get claustrophobic. And I kind of like the cold, actually, and I know it won’t bother you. It gets a little loud on the highway, but I think we’re mostly sticking to backroads anyway. Would this feel less weird if I had a new car, instead of the same sad scrap pile I’ve been making work since I got my license? If something about this made it feel less familiar, less like going back in time?

Oh god, am I rambling? Wow. Let’s start over.

Hey. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Almost five years. I’m sorry about that. I never really meant to leave for good, when I moved out of town. Or, well I guess I did, actually. But I never meant to leave you.

I was serious, you know, when I invited you to come stay with me. I think you thought I was just saying it, but I swear I meant it. My apartment’s small, and it’s got something wrong with the bathroom light that makes the bulb blow out at least once a month, and two of the burners on the stove don’t work, but I mean. Mi shitbox es tu shitbox. We’d lived out of each other’s pockets for so long, before. I really did feel like we could’ve done it again. 

But you said no. And that’s okay! You … wanted to stay here. God only knows why. I mean, I can guess, but I really hope I’m wrong, you know? It’s just, I’ve been thinking about it for so long and every time I asked you to come out and visit and you said you were sorry but you couldn’t, you always sounded like you really did regret it. You said there was shit here you had to take care of. And I always thought to myself – what shit? – like, seriously. We both know I was missing you more from the city than anyone in this stupid town would have. And I think Jan could’ve found another waitress for the diner. So, what was here that was so important? I think I never asked because I was afraid of the answer.

It’s him, isn’t it? You stayed for him.

Anyway. I could’ve gotten you a job at the coffee place I worked at when I first moved. Their coffee’s awful, but they have really good muffins. I still go in there all the time for them, so I’m still on good terms with the manager, and they’re always hiring. You could’ve done that until you figured out what you really wanted to do. Or you could’ve done that forever. I wouldn’t have judged you for it.

I think you’d like Tony. My roommate. Ok, actually you guys would probably kind of hate each other, but I think you’d have fun hating each other. You’re both kind of petty like that. And he’s gay, so there wouldn’t have been any of that pressure I know you feel around literally everyone who’s attracted to women, where you’re constantly wondering how bad they want you. 

He actually offered to come with me for this, Tony. For emotional support. I turned him down, but it was still nice of him to offer. It was kind of obvious, how anxious I was about coming home. And of course, he knew why I was coming out here. Tony knows all about you, how much you mean to me. I talk about you all the time.

I forgot how empty the roads are, out here. You’d never see a street this quiet in the city, no matter the time of night. I think it should be comforting, but it’s not. It’s unsettling. I feel like there could be a ghost around every corner.

Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.

I don’t understand the point of you staying here for him. It’s not like it was gonna make a difference to him. Nothing makes a difference to him anymore. Like, do you remember when you asked me if I believed in an afterlife? It was only a few days after… well, After. And I said my whole thing about reincarnation and the law of conservation of energy and how I think it makes sense, and you said you thought that if anything happens to us after we die, it’s got nothing to do with what happened to us in this life. You said you thought if death wasn’t just a final ending, then it was, at most, a slate wiped totally clean.

So, it’s not like you thought he was looking down on – or up at? – you. It’s not like you believed there was anything you could do to get him to forgive you. And I know you didn’t believe in any god so it’s not like you were waiting on their forgiveness either. So, whose forgiveness were you looking for? Why did you think you could find it here? Why not just put me out of my misery and come with me?

Sorry. That was a poor choice of words.

You know every single person I’ve met since moving out there has heard all about you. I don’t know how to not talk about you. You are a story I can’t stop telling, a part of every memory I have. You’re the thing I built myself around. A version of my life where I don’t meet you, or you don’t exist, is not a version of my life. It’s version of someone else’s life, because I am not me without you. The shape of myself is the shape of the hole inside you, I am just the thing filling your edges, and without those edges I have no form.

I think I’m losing the plot a little, here. I’m running out of ways to say that I need you.

And maybe I have no right to say any of that shit, when we haven’t actually seen each other in five years. I know the way your face has gotten thinner and the color you dyed your hair from pictures. I don’t know if you still wear the sweet pea spray from Bath & Body Works. You haven’t been a body I could touch in years. You’ve barely even been a voice on the other end of the phone line. I know that for the most part all we’ve had these last few years were words on a tiny screen, sent and read only in the darkest hours of night. And those messages, meaningful as they were, were sporadic. It doesn’t sound like much, like enough of a thing to be a necessity. But there’s a difference between surviving on scraps and starving to death.

            Our lives have been clinging to each other by the very tips of their fingers. I know that. But it never felt like a permanent state, to me. I always thought we’d find our ways back to each other. I didn’t call you, but I always knew I could. And now…

           Did you stay here to punish yourself? I don’t think you deserved to be punished. I mean, obviously I didn’t think that, or I would have let you turn yourself in when you wanted to.

           I can’t figure out whether or not I owe you an apology for stopping you from doing that. I thought I was saving you from yourself, but maybe I wasn’t. But what was I supposed to do? You couldn’t see yourself that night. They’d have locked you up for sure. I mean you were covered in his blood. You were still holding the knife, for God’s sake, just standing in the hall with it in one hand and my phone in the other, absolutely hysterical. Even if I hadn’t wrestled the phone away from you, what would you have said to the operator when you dialed 911? You were completely incoherent.

           I can admit now that it might have been a little dramatic of me to smash my own cell phone against the wall when you tried to get it back from me, but all things considered, I think I was holding it together pretty damn well.

           I was always good at holding it together. You were the one who was always going off the rails. But I loved that about you, most of the time. Everything was such a huge deal to you. It made life feel bigger than it was.

You made everything exciting, back then. Every petty feud with someone was an all-out war. God, remember when we egged Jenna’s car because she said that dumb thing about how you should try harder in class and stop messing around with guys? What was it? Right, that’s it, she told you if you spent half as much time studying as you did sucking dick then you’d probably get valedictorian. It was stupid, and you knew she only said it because she was jealous about Drew asking you out, and you basically told her that and I don’t even remember exactly what you said but I remember her crying. And then we still had to egg her car, and that still wasn’t enough, because you wanted to slash all her tires but I wouldn’t let you. You always wanted to take things one step too far. I always forgave you though. Every single time.

You know I can’t really remember what happened that night. It’s just kind of a blur. I remember him coming over. My parents were out of town. You weren’t supposed to be there. I mean, we hadn’t planned on it, but you wouldn’t leave when I told you he was coming over and I just let it go. I could tell he was kind of annoyed about it but he wouldn’t say anything. We’d been planning on ‘watching a movie’, but you being there meant we actually had to watch the movie. And then it’s all just flashes: a bottle of vodka, the glow of the TV in the dark room, your head on my shoulder, his hand on my arm, the room spinning – or no, shaking, because I was shaking, or being shaken, my head snapping back and forth, fast.

I know the two of you got into it. Or he and I got into it. Or we all three got into it. But I don’t know what it was about, all the words we said are gone from my memory, totally irretrievable. It’s just those flashes, and then you standing there with the blood and the knife, and him on the floor, so still.

Tony says I need a therapist. I haven’t told him about that night, obviously, but sometimes I say something I think is normal and he gives me this funny-sad look, or little things I don’t mean to talk about slip out. Like that memory gap. I didn’t tell him anything about what I can’t remember, just that there’s something, and sometimes I dream about it. I mean, I kind of had to tell him something, because I still talk in my sleep sometimes and I fell asleep on the couch one day and he heard me saying the word stop over and over. He said that it was creepy as hell, and I have repressed trauma, and gave me the name of some website where you can find shrinks online.

I have not looked for a therapist. Tony brought it up again, before I left to come back here. He said I should consider it for the sake of grief counseling, if nothing else. I told him I had a grief counselor already and his name was Jim Beam and – don’t even say anything, I know that’s terrible, I cringed at myself while I was saying it to him. Tony just shook his head and texted me the link to the stupid website.

I know it’s kind of fucked up that I don’t even fully understand why you killed him, even though I helped you bury his body. I wanted to ask you about it. I almost did, so many times. But I didn’t know how to without making it sound like I was trying to judge you. I didn’t want to bring it up again after the fact, when I knew we were both trying to bury it. There wasn’t any time to ask you anything or try to make sense of it the night it happened.

Do you even remember it that well? After I got you in the shower and turned it on cold you finally stopped crying, but you basically went catatonic. I never told you this, but that honestly freaked me out more than the corpse on my floor. You just sat on the steps, shivering in one of my sweatshirts and watching me try to clean it all up. I had to clap my hands in front of your face to get you to listen when I was asking you to help me get him up off the floor, but I couldn’t have carried him myself. Do you remember that the bedsheet I’d gotten him rolled up in was already soaked through with blood. I didn’t have anything else to wrap him in though.

You didn’t say anything until we were in the garage, and we’d gotten him in the trunk, and I was telling you that we should take him to the marshes, where the ground’s all mud and nothing that sinks down into it is ever coming back up and it’s too wet for anyone to go trekking through for fun, and you cut me off in the middle and just said I’m sorry and God, you sounded so quiet and broken and for the first time in our lives you couldn’t even look me in the eye and I –

I just… I told you to get in the car. I didn’t tell you it would be okay, or that we’d figure it out, or that I forgave you.

I do, by the way. Forgive you, I mean. For all of it, like I said a few minutes ago. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before today. I need you to know that’s the biggest regret I’ll ever have in my life, not telling you I forgave you sooner.

I really did love him, you know. I loved him and you kind of tolerated him for my sake until you didn’t, and then you killed him. You were sorry about it, and I forgave you because the way I loved him has nothing on the way I love you. He was a boy who I would’ve gone to prom with and probably broken up with two months after moving out of here and not seen again until our 10 year high school reunion, if I even bothered to show up for it. It was a moment-in-time kind of love. But you? You’re my forever bitch. I don’t care that every eight-year-old girl in the history of time has pricked her finger and stuck it to some other girl’s pricked finger and sworn to be bestest friends forever ‘til death does them part, when we did that, I fucking meant it, and now I-

I’m gonna need to stop for gas on the way back to my parents’ house. I forgot how far out the marshes are, but we’re almost there, now.

I don’t really know why I thought it would be a good idea to come out here. When I first got in the car, I thought I was gonna head out to the overpass, the one they told me you crashed under. But then I turned left instead of right. I don’t know, I guess I felt like, if any part of you was still around, it wouldn’t be hanging out on the edge of some lonely stretch of highway. I felt like you’d be out here, haunting the thing that never stopped haunting you.

Don’t worry. I’m not crazy enough to go traipsing through the marshes in the dark to hunt down a ghost. I just want to see them, park my car where I parked it that night, at the edge. The last time I really and truly had you all the way with me.

I don’t know now, if I was right about where to find you. I’ve been talking to you this whole time we’ve been driving, and I swear I can feel you here listening. I swear I can hear your voice. Maybe you’re just haunting me.

Oh. There they are. We can’t stay long. I’ve got your funeral in the morning.”

[the-gay-prometheus]

🍄🍂🌻🌿 for the main three of your AU + Ernest

What are your OCs favourite snacks? Their favourite comfort food which always cheers them up when they’re down? Favourite meal to make? Do they enjoy baking and cooking and are they any good in the kitchen?

>Victor: Oat cakes? Oat cakes. ...Oat cakes. Yes I am 100% leaning heavily into the Victor Loves Oat Cakes thing. Because I also love oat cakes. He can't cook to save his life though. This poor man couldn't even make toast without it ending up either raw or literally turned to charcoal. All of which is highly ironic because he actually had cooking lessons due to ~circumstances of his birth~ - he just never paid any attention.

>Henry: Henry's favorite snack is literally any kind of bread. If Henry gives you his bread, that must mean he really likes you, because Henry would never give his bread away to just anyone. (<casually thinking back to the 'home again' segment where Henry smuggles like half his bread to take back to Victor> heh. gay.) Anyways- As for go to comfort food, rabbit stew - because when he, Victor, Ernest, and Elizabeth were all allowed to spend a weekend essentially camping in the woods, the first meal he cooked on that outing was an improvised rabbit stew. It didn't turn out well the first time, but the memories surrounding it are what made it special - so now even though he's really perfected his recipe and techniques and what he makes is practically unrecognizable to that first attempt, he can't help but feel all warm and fuzzy with the thought of spending the night goofing off with all his best friends. As for if he enjoys cooking, he loves it! It's one of his favorite things to do! He loves the creativity and freedom he finds in cooking for himself, and especially loves seeing others enjoying what he makes.

>Creature/Agape: For most of the AU he would say any sort of wild nuts and berries are his favorite snack because, well, they're just about the only snack he's ever really had access to. Later on he'll agree with Henry that bread is The Best, but is made even better when accompanied with a good goat cheese - so that easily becomes his favorite snack. As for comfort food, really just... Anything anybody cooks for him - the mere gesture of somebody making him food is enough to make him feel so incredibly loved, so it doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's being made with care. When it comes to cooking, he definitely enjoys it! He's not quite on Henry's level, but Henry is a great teacher and he cherishes every moment he gets to spend helping to prepare meals with him.

>Ernest: Favorite snack is... Any kind of sweet he can get his hands on. Bonus points for cakes and cookies. As for comfort food, he doesn't really have a comfort *food* but his comfort drink is hot cocoa, mostly because it's delicious but also because he has fond memories of sneaking into the kitchen with Victor late at night and making hot cocoa - because everyone knows the best thing to accompany Victor's "world famous" ghost stories was hot cocoa! As for cooking.. Ernest doesn't cook. He's convinced he's no good at it despite really never having tried. This is much to his detriment because when everyone else is gone and all the servants have been laid off, Elizabeth is the only one left to cook - and Elizabeth's cooking is.... Edible, at best.

Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with recieving affection from others?

>Victor: ...Sort of enjoys hugs. Victor is a little iffy about touch being initiated by anyone other than Henry. He prefers to show affection to others by way of compliments (or by clearly-sarcastic insults if it's someone he really trusts), and prefers to have affection shown to him the same way. There are only some exceptions to this rule, all of which include him either initiating physical contact himself or by explicitly stating that it's ok to touch him.

>Henry: Oh Henry loves hugs 🥺 Henry loves giving everyone hugs. You get a hug! You get a hug! Everybody gets a hug!!! Victor is his favorite hugging target obviously. Despite being a generally sharp and pointy object, Victor is surprisingly very huggable - this is probably because he just absolutely melts in Henry's arms. Henry gives hugs to show just about anyone affection tho, and loves getting hugs in return.

>Creature/Agape: How do you say "absolutely fucking touch starved on main" in french? Because yeah. Yeah. That's him. If you hug him he will cry. If you let him hug you he will cry. If you so much as rest your hand on him he will cry. And by cry in every case I mean a mixture of emotions ranging from joyful at the thought the somebody really cares and that they’re not afraid of him/don’t hate him - to mourning the fact that such acts of affection are seen as a rarity and something he’s not worthy of. As for showing or receiving affection, his best ways of showing it are either by giving gifts or by mimicking a person's behavior, or by just telling them he really appreciates them. And as for receiving affection, he'll take all the platonic/familial affection he can possibly get. It doesn't matter what kind.

>Ernest: Eh. Hugs are alright. They've gotta be gentle tho because Joints Hurty. Generally he shows affection to others by offering to do things for them or trying to help them with tasks, and as for his preferred way of receiving affection? Simple. Tell him not to help you. Let him have a fucking break for once in his life and he'll be absolutely thrilled. Either that or just tell him you can see he's really doing his best.

What little things do they notice about people or the world around them that make them happy? What tiny little treasures do they find in the normal every day that makes the world seem a little brighter for them?

>Victor: <gestures vaguely at Henry> This guy. This guy right here. Everything about this guy. Literally everything. I would go on but that would make this post way longer than it already is. So just. Everything. Also mountains, forests, grass in early spring, waterfalls, any body of water really - all of those things make him happy too. Also bones and shiny rocks. Oh. And moss and lichen. And moths. And stars!

>Henry: <gestures vaguely at Victor> I mean seriously loving each other is like 90% of these guys' personality. (that's not true but still lmao) Anyways other than Victor, he also is made happy by just about anything in nature, as well as just... Life itself. He thinks life is a wonderful gift and he's just glad to be living it.

>Creature/Agape: <gestures vaguely at literally everything all the time every day> Agape is a simple lad. He sees nature, he sees people that care about him, and he is filled with so much goddamn serotonin. Or at least he would be if he wasn't also filled with so much anxiety and trauma. The only thing that doesn't make him happy is people he doesn't know. People absolutely terrify him.

>Ernest: Ernest tries to see the best in everyone around him, so any time he does that he can't help but smile and feel a little more hopeful. Other than that, he's thankful for having such a beautiful home and, despite all the tragedy and all the responsibility that was placed on him because of it, he does enjoy the freedom of just... Being able to live as he pleases for the most part. Tending to the gardens outside makes him happy, finding new litters of rabbits emerging from their warrens makes him happy, baby goats make him happy, goats in general make him happy (humble goat farmer Ernest simply loves to vibe in the field with his goats), sharp pointy objects make him happy - so many things make him happy. So then why is he so sad all the time?

What way does your OC show that they care without using words? What way do others show your OC that they’re cared about without using speech?

>Victor: Despite generally not being a very touchy person, his best way to show that he cares without speaking is through touch. Either by taking that person's hand, resting a hand on their shoulder or back, giving them a hug, just... Anything to let them know he's there for them. As for how someone can show him they care? If it's Henry, literally anything will do. Hugs, hand holding, snuggling, gentle little kisses on the cheek or forehead or lips too. If it's anyone else, the best thing they can do is just... Sit with him. Just be there beside him. They don't have to say anything, just exist in his general space and that would be enough. He'll let them know if/when he needs any more reassurance than that.

>Henry: Did I mention Henry loves hugs? Hugs are the go to method for showing somebody he cares. He also loves receiving hugs as signals that somebody else cares. The H in Henry stands for Hugs.

>Creature/Agape: Well ideally he would show he cares by being attentive to their needs - so like, say, if it's Henry he'll give him a hug, if it's Victor he'll just sit with him for a bit (as long as Victor is ok with that). But unfortunately usually he feels like the best way he can show he cares without words is... by disappearing. He still thinks of his presences as being unnerving or a nuisance, so he often feels the best way he can let somebody know he cares is just by... leaving them entirely alone. As for how other show him they care, very few do, but those who do know the best way is through some kind of physical contact.

>Ernest: Growing up with a variety of different kinds of personalities meant that Ernest came to realize very quickly that there is no 'one size fits all' for how to show others he cares. So if it has to be done without speaking, then he'll simply try to find something to write on and try to ask through writing what the person needs. Either that, or sometimes he'll pull out his guitar and play them something to help get their mind off of whatever it is they're worrying about. As for others showing him they care, just leave him be, usually. Either that or write him a note just saying 'im here if you need to talk.'

[atruththatyoudeny]

Monthly Reads | July 2020

Happy 28th! As always, my undying love goes out to all the amazing authors this fandom still has. You are all incredible! Thank you for sharing your work with us ♥ Here are all the 21 fics I read and enjoyed this month:

⋙ The Murmur of Yearning | MediaWhore | historical - no smut - arranged marriage past rape/non-con - implied/referenced dubious consent - minor character death - slow burn - 93k Four years ago, Harry Styles was forced into a marriage of convenience to enrich and ally both his and his promised's families. The sudden, and slightly suspicious, death of the Marquess of Haxshire, however, brings great disturbance to Crescentfield Hall and, as his late's husband's closest male relative, Harry unexpectedly finds himself the head of a family he never felt he belonged to. Between a meddling distant cousin hellbent on inserting himself in Harry’s life, his wicked and mistrustful mother-in-law and his late husband’s advisors refusing to help or take him seriously, Harry struggles in the fight to keep what he’s earned and make the Estate finally feel like home. Luckily he doesn’t stand completely alone and finds himself an unlikely ally in Mr Tomlinson, the elusive Land Stewart who has been taking care of the property in the shadows for years. Louis Tomlinson is caring, patient, and unlike everyone else, he doesn’t seem to think Harry committed a murder.

⋙ Donor-Conceived | jaerie | a/b/o - omega/omega - friends to lovers - intersex omegas - pregnancy kink - unplanned pregnancy - fertility issues - miscarriage mentioned - male lactation - lactation kink - 31k When Harry receives the worst news of his life, it's now or never if he wants to carry a child of his own. Without an alpha, it's a daunting idea. But after it's a go, he finds another omega having a child from the same donor and become fast friends. It is only logical that they raise the boys as half brothers, making sure their sons keep up the relationship with the only connection to their anonymous father. It seems like the perfect plan but life doesn't always work out that way.

⋙ Just a touch of your love | anonymous | a/b/o - touch-starved - past abuse - past rape/non-con - miscommunication - anxiety attacks - 12k “What if something happened to you? What would I say to Niall?” “Nothing, he would have to wait to see my corpse on the news like everyone else.” Deadpanned Harry. Louis’ gasp was all the answer he got. Ok, so that might have been a bit too much. With a calmer voice, he said, “It’s really fine. I’ve walked to the tube countless times, I can handle myself. Just go home and tell Niall to stop mothering me.” Louis was finally walking by his side and gave him a sideways glance before talking. “He doesn’t know, does he? Of your, uh, condition.” Harry tensed and his breath became erratic, but he didn’t say a word. Louis continued. “His nose probably hasn’t picked it up, and you’re lucky Liam’s also a beta, but it took me a minute to confirm it. Your scent is gettin’ so…” He seemed to struggle to find a word. He didn’t finish the sentence, but the emotion in his voice made Harry’s tummy churn. -- Or, Harry is a touch starved omega trying to get through it on his own. Louis happens to be the only alpha around to realize it and offers to help.

⋙ We're Not Who We Used To Be | jaerie | trans female character - trans Harry - childhood friends - friends with benefits - transitioning - gender dysphoria - body disphoria gender identity - first time - self-medicating - reference to depression - 7k Louis comes back to his childhood home and sees an old friend who has changed quite a lot since the last time they saw each other.

⋙ Sincerely, Yours | anon | strangers to lovers - military - 25k Prompt:Historical AU where Louis is a soldier on his way to first deployment and Harry is working at a diner. They meet there when Louis is waiting for the bus, Harry tries to cheer Louis up and agrees to write to him while he's deployed because Louis doesn't have anyone else to write to. People kinda make fun of Harry for writing to (and falling for) a virtual stranger but otherwise everything is great until Louis stops writing. AKA travelin' soldier by the Dixie Chicks but gay and with a happy ending.

⋙ Ever Since I Tried Your Way | anon | historical - 1940s - 1950s - farm/ranch - internalized homophobia - hurt/comfort - emotional hurt/comfort - fluff - smut - gender exploration - body worship - 26k Harry had been kissed before, but never like this. He’d shared sweet, curious kisses behind bleachers and in soda shop booths, one or two more daring ones in cars parked on dark suburban streets, but the girls he’d kissed had never filled him with the desperation that erupted from Louis’ touch. He parted his lips and pulled him closer, as though he could breathe Louis straight into his lungs, as if he could swallow him. He wanted to consume Louis the way he consumed the body and blood of Christ. He wanted to place Louis on his tongue and feel him dissolve into a frothy mess of starch and saliva. He wanted to gulp him down until his teeth were stained purple and he was drunk on him. He wanted him in some violent holy way that made his hands shake where they were twisted in Louis’ shirt. In 1949 Harry left his bride at the altar, running away from the only life he'd known. When a kindhearted farmer offers him a ride in his truck and a place to sleep the two find themselves inexplicably drawn together. Isolated on Louis' farm with nobody but a field of dairy cows to intrude, the men are finally able to explore the parts of themselves they've spent their lives hiding away.

⋙ sleeping on our problems | falsegoodnight | a/b/o - college/university - mpreg - friends with benefits - angst - slow burn - hurt/comfort - 67k I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down. There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word. His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared. - Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

⋙ in a world alone | falsegoodnight | a/b/o - Swan Lake AU - historical - royalty - magic - curses - friends to lovers - slow burn - mpreg - 51k Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him. Because the swan is gone. And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen. - A Swan Lake AU

⋙ The Baby Whisperer | jacaranda_bloom | strangers to lovers - prior mpreg - neighbours - fluff - smut - kid fic - 19k Harry’s newborn baby is having trouble sleeping and nothing he does seems to work. Tired and alone and at his wits end, Harry is at a loss until a new neighbour arrives to turn his world upside down. OR the one where being neighbourly takes on a whole new meaning.

⋙ was in no hurry, had no worries | defencelouis | strangers to lovers - car accidents - smut - daddy kink - 21k The year is 1999 and Harry can’t stop dedicating songs to Louis on the radio. Or the one where Harry hits Louis with his car.

⋙ Strong Enough | jacaranda_bloom | enemies to lovers - exes to lovers - angst - smut - divorce - 21k “So…” Liam starts, and Louis instantly knows where this is going. He’s actually glad it’s Liam that's dragging the subject out from the shadows and into the light. Louis turns to face him, mirroring his position on the couch and nods, ready for him to continue. Liam takes a deep breath. “Have you spoken to Harry recently?” Five years after Vertigo goes on hiatus, the band comes back together for a benefit concert. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

⋙ What's It Gonna Be? | zeldasayre | high school - 37k Louis looked thoughtful for a moment. “When are you meeting with Clare again?” “Thursday,” Bebe said, looking over at him, the ice clinking in her glass as she stirred it with a long spoon. “Why?” He grinned, narrowing his eyes. He took a long, dramatic pause, sipping his lemonade, and then said, “Scheming.” aka I've watched Shura's "What's It Gonna Be?" music video one too many times. ((Or, Louis and Bebe, best friends since childhood, have crushes on two of the most popular kids in school, and in an attempt to increase their respective chances, Louis befriends Harry Styles, quarterback of the football team, while Bebe befriends Clare Uchima, head cheerleader. Only... the plan... doesn't go exactly as planned.))

⋙ There Goes My Life | anonymous | older larry - colleagues with benefits - mpreg - unplanned pregnancy - smut - lactation kink - 8k Metallic taste in the mouth, check. Aversions to favourite foods, check. Nausea without throwing up, check. A heightened sense of smell, check. Sore and sensitive nipples, check. It had felt as though Harry had been ticking off boxes from his own mental checklist and every new addition brought him closer to an existential crisis. Pregnant. Everything over the last few weeks began to make sense; thoughts he pushed from his mind because he was too busy, and to be honest too scared, to think about. Getting knocked up from a few-night’s-stand was something that happened to teenagers and/or uni students, but certainly not to a forty-year-old Member of Parliament such as himself. *** Or, the one where Harry is single, a Member of Parliament, gets knocked up and has to deal with navigating motherhood in his forties. And Louis? Well, his life is about to change forever as well. This is a tale about colleagues with benefits and the consequences that can come with that.

⋙ Mother I'd Like to * | anonymous | implied mpreg - MILF Harry - 4k “What’s up, dad?” Oliver asks Louis, standing in front of Harry in a way that hides his friends from the view. “Is there something wrong with your mom? Your friends are staring a lot.” Oliver goes beet red at that. He groans and hides his face on his hands. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” --------------------- Written for the prompt: Harry’s and Louis’ son is like 16, so he is hanging out with his friends and his friends are teasing him about how hot his mother (aka harry) is, just like the 1D boys always did with Harry about Anne. The son feels super uncomfortable and Louis is super confused why these little teenagers boys always stare at Harry’s body when he is cooking for them whenever they visit until he finds out they think of Harry as the hottest milf in town (more humor than actual sexual references pls, this is supposed to be more funny than awkwardly sexual :D)

⋙ An Invincible Summer | Brooklyn_Babylon | farm/ranch - historical - 1940s - period-typical homophobia - adoption - minor character death - epilepsy - homophobic language - smut - 44k Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn't ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son. The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about.

⋙ a trail of honey through it all | faeriestyles | strangers to friends to lovers - mild violence - D/s undertones - 27k The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him. Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

⋙ The Recklessness in Water | LarryOn | light angst - smut - 50k Louis Tomlinson is miserable. He's stuck on a family vacation at a lake cabin in New Hampshire when all he wants to do is bemoan his sorry existence and wallow in his sweatpants. As if the humidity and mosquitos weren't bad enough, he becomes the singular target of an obnoxious lifeguard named Harry.

⋙ baby blue | soldouthaz | cowboy AU - famous/not famous - angst - hate to love - enemies to lovers - smut - hurt/comfort - minor violence - 39k Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head. He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin. “Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.”

⋙ with no way out and a long way down | we_are_the_same | royalty - soulmates - strangers to lovers - fluff - angst - no smut - emotional hurt/comfort arranged marriage - 31k Prince Harry is ten when he receives his soulmark.

⋙ adjudication | bottomlinsons | royalty - historical - enemies to friends to lovers - enemies to friends - love letters - betrayal - slow burn - light angst - arranged marriage - 75k Harry's been engaged to Princess Charlotte of Ryde for as long as he can remember. He's come to know her, to love her, through the letters she's sent him over the past three years. But when the wedding finally arrives, Harry quickly learns that nothing is as it seems. With his crown and country at stake, Harry must decide who to trust in this strange new land. And the sly Crown Prince of Ryde doesn't seem inclined to make things easy.

⋙ Something to Prove | trysomecats | a/b/o - enemies to lovers - mpreg - smut - 9k Louis is the first and only omega to work at Red Valley Medical Center. Despite being more than qualified, he still faces prejudice for his career choice everyday. From patients refusing his treatment to condescending alpha doctors intervening with his work, practicing medicine in Boston is more challenging than Louis had ever thought it would be.

[spn-mediabigbang]

Darkness Round the Sun

Title: Darkness Round the Sun

Author: castielslostwings

Artist: Bees

Betas: coinofstone, Olive, and Bees

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: Genre: Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian, Romance

Source Material: “I Am Legend” (movie, alternate ending)

Summary:

“Sometimes, Dean wishes he’d met Castiel before. Back when the world was full and alive instead of empty, and darkness was nothing to fear. But then, if he had, would Dean have even looked at him twice? He had Lisa and Ben in those days, a career, and a whole planet full of possibilities spread before them.

No, Dean Winchester had to lose everything before meeting Castiel could mean anything.

Not that it really matters. There’s no going back now.”

Or, the apocalyptic AU where Dean is fighting a lonely battle to develop a cure for the virus that made him the last man on Earth—until suddenly, he’s not. Dean’s old life ends the day Castiel shows up and turns his world upside down, giving him a reason to live and not just survive.

Preview:

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean says weakly while Sam roars in his face. His brother’s jaws open wide, pointy teeth glistening in the pale moonlight reflected off of the water. Dean closes his eyes. So maybe he isn’t taking Sammy with him, no one could say he didn’t try. Add it to Dean’s very long list of failures, take a number, Dean fuckin’ gets it.

Only half-conscious, he’s barely even bothered by what a tragic loser he’s become. Here he is at the end of his miserable life, unable to see anything through, couldn’t even kill himself correctly.

And now, thanks to him, his brother’s going to be a cold-blooded murderer, too.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” he mumbles. “‘S’not your fault.”

Sam’s breath is hot and rancid, gusting over the edge of Dean’s face, teeth inches away from ripping out his throat when suddenly, the sun rises.

No, not the sun, Dean thinks blearily as he blinks into the bright light currently sending Darkseekers scrambling and screaming in any direction it’s not. Dean can smell the foul odor of burning, sizzling human skin, hear their pained cries as they scamper frantically away. UV light? How?

Barely clinging to consciousness, the happenings around him blink in and out over the next few minutes in a way Dean has absolutely no control over. There’s a man, or at least Dean thinks it’s a man, dark where he’s standing haloed in the light. Maybe it’s an angel. Maybe I’m already dead. Between Dean’s extended eyelash fluttering, the man shows up at his side, gripping his shoulder, tugging him from the warped wreckage of his own car. He’s speaking, but it’s all an indistinguishable, garbled blur to Dean.

Angel language, Dean thinks deliriously. He just wants to go to sleep.

The next time he opens his eyes, he’s in the passenger seat of a car, a big one, and they’re moving. He can still feel a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, shaking him, and there’s a voice yelling insistently in his ear. Dean groans and tries to bury his face in the hard sill of the window next to him before he remembers something important. The drying blood on Dean’s face cracks when he grimaces. Is he dead? Is this Heaven? Doesn’t feel very eternal-Paradise-y.

“Where do you live?” After a long moment of trying and failing to claw his way back to full consciousness, those are the first words from his rescuer that Dean is able to parse out. Their owner’s voice is low and gravelly, full of concern and pressed urgency but no less compassionate for it. Even in his messed up state, Dean’s pissed that he can’t just bask in the sound. “Hey, come on,” the voice persists. “Your address!” The man is yelling at him and Dean has no idea why. His head rests heavily on the glass window as the world flies by in a blur on the other side. Heaven shouldn’t be so goddamn loud. “Where do you live, hey, where do you live?”

The bleeding wound on Dean’s head throbs angrily and clouds his vision, threatening to drag him under again. Still groggy and confused and valiantly fighting against both the pounding pain in his head and the searing, burning sensations almost everywhere else, Dean has to open his mouth multiple times before he’s finally able to force a few words out.  

“Eleven Washington Square,” he mumbles after another shake from the mystery man. “They don’t know where I live, don’t let them track us. We need to stay out until dawn.” Dean knows that part is important, manages to slur it out half-heartedly only seconds before passing out completely.

Warnings: Graphic Violence

Tags: AU-Apocalypse, Last People on Earth, Solitude, Loss, animal companionship, post-apocalyptic setting, NYC, science, medical advances gone wrong, medical experimentation, canon-typical violence, injuries, Doctor Dean Winchester, Scientist Dean, Sad Dean, Lonely Dean, viruses and cures, monsters, suicidal thoughts related to isolation and loss, finding hope again, Dean has a dog, I Am Legend if it took a hard right into romance-novel territory, Romance, touch-starved Dean, touch-starved Castiel, love at the end of the world, fluff, Caring Castiel, explicit gay sex, happy ending.

Link to Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483257

Link to Art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805214

[bisluthq]

Dearest Rep,

I present to you my Gay/Bi Mess shenanigans: I came upon your blog because the woman I was seeing in 2020 until, oh, YESTERDAY is a Gaylor. She all but gave me a TED talk on why Taylor Swift is a Lesbian. This happened the weekend Evermore came out and she texted me “It is a blessed time to be a Gaylor”. Entertaining for sure, but my response was “Bisexual people exist, you know. You are one of them, in fact”. Except, I started to be on the fence about whether TED talk Gaylor Woman considered herself bi/pan/fluid/et al for a couple reasons (at this point, I do believe she is not exclusively into women.)

She has a type: witty, touch-starved neurodivergent nerds with curly hair and bubble butts (I fit the bill but have been the only female in the picture). I have known her since I was 12 but we were only mutual acquaintances. We hooked up under dubious circumstances when I was 16 and she was 20. I was fresh off a breakup where my ex’s family scapegoated me as the root of all her mental health problems (I certainly didn’t help because we brought out the worst in each other as two flawed people who loved each other as sincerely as they were able as they were which wasn’t healthy because WE weren’t healthy). We reconnected in 2020 (August, incidentally).

She was having an Illicit Affair with me all the while. I was well aware and went back and forth between how guilty I felt about it. I was starting to think that I was the Getaway Car. I did not feel good about it but realistically? I did not have a leg to stand on. She has patched things up with her boyfriend and we were going to try being a triad (he is truly a great guy who I vibe with and she did him so dirty with my help) but I’ve come to realize that her and I are not compatible anyways. This realization came from seeing the difference when I saw a chance with someone who actually is my type. I blew that chance already but sometimes one just needs to live and learn.

I am currently wallowing in self-loathing but it’s fine. This is fine. Now I have a better idea of just *how* much work I have to do on myself.

I reread this several times because I know it’s part of a silly series but like. I’m so sorry.

Breakups are rough especially with someone older and confusing and... kinda manipulative sounding idk.

Also the fact that this messy bi lady decided to belieb in Everlasting Gold Star Kay is mad funny but also not. Idk. I’m just... so so sorry.

We’re all sending you love and good vibes anon 💜

PS You’re dealing with this with a lot of humor which is great but you’re absolutely allowed to drink a bottle+ of wine solo and sad cry to Adele.

[thatwritingho]

Skwisgaar for the headcannons please!

*Shows up a month late with Starbucks*

Lol whoops better late than never I guess

Prompt list here

A-Realistic: Skwis is all the least metal of the band, and in fact only got into metal because it allowed him to play the fastest and most complicated guitar. I mean just look at his room, and his all white outfit in the preklok days. I think he mostly follows the brutal and dark aesthetic so he doesn't stand out too much; all his friends are into it, so he plays along. 

In fact, I feel like Skwis just goes along with most things. Like, everything, actually. 

Like I said in my Skwis background head canon post, his childhood emotional neglect was severe, and he never had any friends growing up. Because of this, I don't think he knows how to really form relationships, platonic or otherwise. He never had connections in his formative years, and then as he got older, even though he wanted to, even though he ached for it, he just… couldn't.

The first person he really related to was Nathan, in part because Nate also has problems forming bonds. And because of this Skwis latched on to Nathan and proceeded to absorb his interests and seek his approval. 

(Which… isn't always a good thing. Like how he continues to perpetuate the band attitude of "anything that could be seen as gay is bad" when in fact he is attracted to men, but I digress)

Yeah anyway tldr: Skwis is actually in fact a poser who acts way more dark and brutal than he really is.

B-Funny: More cute than funny, and I've mentioned this before, but I see him as a huge, giant fantasy nerd. 

I'm talking larping, DnD playing, has a secret display of to-scale collector models, keeps a binder of Magic the Gathering cards, can rant about Game of Thrones for hours, watches Lord of the Rings extended editions when he can't sleep, cosplaying as Glorfindel nerd.

No one in the band knows except Toki, and that's only because one of his resign statues came in the mail with a piece broken and he needed model glue to fix it, which Toki was more than willing to share. 

C-Sad: Despite getting the most frequent physical affection out of everyone in the band, Skwis is, in fact, extremely touch starved. 

I mean think about it; he went the majority of his life without affection or acceptance, and now that he has it, he only receives it from complete strangers, and that makes him all the more lonely. 

Casual displays of affection; hugs, hand holding, having his hair played with, kisses on the cheek(or any innocent kisses at all really), late night discussions about your deepest thoughts, he gets none of that. Everyone only cares about what he can do for them, how much pleasure the famous sex god Skwisgaar Skwigelf can bring them. 

Everyone he sleeps with expects the best of the best, for this one night to blow them away and make every other encounter they've had pale in comparison, so he ends up always the giver to live up to his reputation. 

Its incredibly isolating, and he doesn't know how to accept small displays of affection because of it. Hugs? Kisses that don't lead to making out? Making out that doesn't lead to sex? What is this?

Why would anyone care about him if they don't just want sex or for him to play guitar?

D-Unrealistic: This is a crack head canon and would totally never happen but…

I like to think that Skwisgaar's guilt over leaving so many kids to grow up fatherless(just like he did) would eventually lead him to a breaking point, and he'd do some grand dramatic gesture to try to make up for it.

He sets back a huge sum of money and starts a free-admission college for all his kids, and for eventually their kids as well.

Calls it something ridiculous like Skwigaar Skwigelf's University of Demi Gods; it offers degrees in every field, employs the best staff, is huge and made of white marble, and all around just super extra. 

[thefancyspin]

Callum getting used to touching Ben when they start dating. Like touching his hair, kissing him, hugging and other more small things. Maybe he might find it hard at first since he was in the closet for so long. I’d love to see a fic on that. You make the weekends so much better with you’re writing and I appreciate you so much. Just wanted you to know that. : )

(thank you so, so much lovely anon, I hope this can do your comment some justice x)

At first, it’s Ben whispering to him in the dark, “It’s alright, you can put ya hand in my hair. I like it.” Callum does, because he likes it too, and because there’s no one else around to see them anyway.

At first it’s just hands in Ben’s hair and on his face and running the bridge of his nose up along Ben’s throat and cheek and capturing him in a kiss.

It’s Ben in his lap and Ben’s arse in his hands and touching whatever he can reach. It’s sort of chaotic really, because Callum’s starving and Ben’s offering him anything he wants. He takes. 

Aside from the chaos though, there’s calm.

There’s meeting for breakfast, and having a pint, and going on dinner dates or just being together. And Callum knows it’s okay - to give Ben a hug, to kiss him on the cheek, to curl their fingers together and let them rest on his knee. He knows it’s okay, to want it, to have it.

But knowing it and doing it are two different things.

And Callum’s always hated being different.

“Alright?” Ben asks, coming back from the bar, and putting their drinks down on the table.

“Yeah, I’m good. All good.”

Ben gives him a look and sits down next to him in the booth. “You sure? I get this is kinda … new.”

“It is, yeah, but I … it’s good, really. It’s Jay and Lola, who I know, so…” Callum falters. “It ain’t like I’m sitting down with ya parents.”

Ben scoffs. “I’d never do that to ya.”

“I just…” Callum starts again, unable to stop himself. “I don’t know how to … act, like. Are they funny about couples being too …”

“What? PDA?” Callum nods and Ben laughs. “Have ya seen them two?”

“Yeah, but they’re …”

“Straight?” Ben says and there’s a bite to it. Callum feels the sting. He knows he does this from time to time, push Ben’s buttons - especially about being gay. And Ben’s patient with him, nice about it. But sometimes…

“I’m sorry, okay, I just wanna be sure I’m not …”

“Just be yaself, Callum,” Ben tells him, but there’s still an edge to it. “Jay loves ya. Lo will too. Don’t worry about anything else.”

Before Callum can push any more, Jay and Lola join them. It had been Lola’s idea, and Jay had liked it - a double date so Lola and Callum could get to know each other better. Callum understood, he’d be spending a lot of time with Lexi (he hoped); she had every right to know more about him.

It still felt so fresh though, this thing with Ben, barely a few months. It felt like it should be just for them.

“I’ll get more drinks in,” Ben says after a while, standing up. He hasn’t said much to Callum since the others got there, and he thinks they’re starting to realise. “Same again?”

Once he’s walked off it only take a few tense moments for Callum to say, “Sorry, I just,” and follow after him.

Callum understands his anger. He understands all of these feelings - sadness and fear and want. And what Callum really, really wants, is for Ben to know he's not going anywhere. And he hopes Ben isn’t either.

“Ben,” he says quietly, a hand on his lower back and his mouth close to Ben’s ear. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t think before I say stuff sometimes. It’s a HIghway curse.”

He’s pretty sure he sees Ben smirk, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Truth is, I like it when you put your arm around me, or hold my hand, or, or just put your hand on my leg or whatever. I like that a lot. I want that all the time.”

“You can have that all the time,” Ben says quietly, looking over just a little. Callum feels like his ribs are cracking with the truth of that, mine mine mine. 

“I know … I just … I’m still working out how to make that okay out here, y’know. With our friends, and families, and the Square.”

“I know.”

“I keep trying to please people, or … or keep the peace or something I donno. But you gotta know … I want you to be happy most. I want you to be happy with me.”

“Callum,” Ben says and this time does turn to face him. “I am, course I am. I just … I hate that you have to think about that stuff. That the world’s still so … I just hate it.”

“I know.”

Callum realises that they’re barely a step apart, but he also knows he’s not ready to move. Not until he knows that they’re okay. “You know I like it, right? When you grab my hand or touch my face or… or…”

“Play with your ears?”

Callum feels his cheek flush. “And I like touching you too. I want to do it all the time, I want to feel your skin against my skin,”

“Jesus Callum, not with my brother right there please.”

This time he laughs. “Sorry, I just need you to know.”

“I do. I get it. Sometimes I’m a twat about it but I really get it.”

Without thinking Callum reaches and tangles his fingers in Ben’s. He steps just a little closer and makes their feet kick. He rests his forehead on Ben’s for just a moment. To anyone watching it’s clear what they are. And that’s okay, Callum thinks to himself, It’s okay.

“I like you a lot, Ben Mitchell.”

“I know.”

“Hey,” Callum pokes at him with a finger. “Ya s’posed to say you like me too.”

Ben huffs. “Oh, you got no idea.”