#(they’re the bird box lookin one)

[jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav]

what random hyperfixation aside from their cannon interests do u think the obey me brothers would have? like i could totally see satan be one of those people that is super into fragrance and knows what every single note smells like or beel being very informed about brand marketing lol

The idea of Satan being like every fanfic character and being able to pick out all sorts of smells from anything is hysterical lmao

I’m only at, like, lesson 39, so if this is either disproven or comes up as canon in the later lessons, Oops. So some of these will be more random/Vibe based, and some might have some justification I pull from canon like aspects of the characters’ personalities or canon interests bc, well, even when extrapolating/taking a canon character and saying “mine now”, I tend to like to refer to the source material.

So without further ado!

Random Hyperfixations/Interests the Brothers Have (At Least, According To Me)

Lucifer

Birding

No, not birdwatching

Birding

What is birding, you ask? Well it’s basically birdwatching but much more meticulous and aggressive

Birdwatchers tend to just kinda chill somewhere or set up a bird feeder and admire whatever shows up, maybe look up some local birds to better identify them when they see them

Birders(?) are like mf Pokemon trainers: Gotta Spot Them All! Birdwatching is a much more active hobby for them, they will literally drive out a couple hours just to see a bird they’ve never seen before and record it

I think this fits Lucifer because he is absolutely the kind of person who would try birdwatching and get super competitive about it

(No shade to birding, I just find it really funny that there’s a name for what is basically “INTENSE BIRDWATCHING”)

Anyway, Lucifer has probably been responsible for several discoveries of new bird species in the Devildom, and is well-known amongst ornithologists, who may or may not stalk him on his bird-ventures because the odds of him finding something new and exciting are quite high

Mammon

Idk why exactly but I feel like he’d be big into drumming? Most kinds of percussion, really

There’s something really tactile and stimmy about a drum set that I think Mammon would appreciate

I don’t know a lot about the technique of drumming, but I love a good beat, and rhythm is the foundation of music

Plus he could totally do streams and take (paid) requests every now and then

But mostly I think this would be something he just does himself

To relax, to have fun, to vent out any pent up Feelings

His drums are kept in a separate music room that is magically soundproofed tho because he has a tendency to get the urge to play at odd hours

And that has caused Problems in the House in the past

Leviathan

Okay, we all know Levi is into collecting, especially fandom merch and the like

But I think he’s also into Swords

Don’t get me wrong, he probably has some decorative and/or nerdy swords

But I do also mean like Actual Historical and Modern Swords

Cursed swords, enchanted swords, ordinary swords that are just Really Cool looking or have an interesting history behind them…

He can’t display them all at once, but he has a comprehensive organization system for them as well as a giant binder with all the information about them

A lot of his finds come from his underwater explorations of Devildom and human world seas and oceans

Like Lucifer, he’s got professionals who occasionally stalk him because of this

But they’re gonna have to be faster than him at actually finding the weapons bc once he’s got it in his sights, he’s not exactly keen on letting someone else take it

The Devildom Royal Museum has been in deep negotiations with him for centuries about displaying parts of his collection in personal exhibits but he’s been pretty stubborn

It’s not fair, he’s the one who found them, why do they get to take them away?!

However, as space becomes increasingly limited, Levi might have to concede some ground...

Satan

Straight up amateur archeology/whatever the Devildom equivalent of urban exploration would be

Satan’s a huge nerd, so it stands to reason that he’d be into visiting old ruins in the Devildom and see if he can find anything interesting

Archeology is basically like uncovering the mysteries of the past, and he’s big into detective stuff already

He probably finds the research afterwards just as interesting too

He has definitely let his grades slip a bit while following up on a particularly promising trip

Unlike Levi, if he finds something of value/interest, he has no problem handing it over to actual historians and the like, but he wants to be involved in the Process

He refuses to call the emotion he feels when seeing his name on an exhibit’s plaque “pride”, but...

Asmodeus

Heavy metal :)

It absolutely Does Not fit with his pastel pink softboi sex kitten image

So very few people know

Lots of people have heard Asmo sing, and a few have heard him scream for… certain reasons

But practically no one has heard him really scream

Part of him is slightly insecure about liking something that some might find unbecoming

But mostly he likes to keep it secret because he finds it deeply amusing to drop small hints about it and see people’s reactions

There may or may not be an underground Devildom metal band with a suspiciously charming singer who can go from the most primal growls to the crispest cleans without a hitch

I just really like the idea of Asmo dressed like a metalhead okay? He has the range!!

Beelzebub

Woodworking

This one is totally random, I have zero justification for it

I just think it’d be neat

Big things, small things, decorative things, functional things

Woodworking is a very physically and mentally involved process (unless you wanna lose a finger), so I imagine it’d be very grounding for Beel

Plus, bringing food into the woodshop would likely end terribly so if he’s looking to beat his cravings without emptying the fridge, that’s a plus

Now, my sleep-deprived brain supplies, has he ever tried to carve something with his teeth like a beaver? Well

I’m gonna say yes, but only once and it went poorly

He probably also does, uh… idk what it’s Officially Called, but when you burn/engrave stuff into wood with a heated metal stick

For some Sad Boy Hours, he’s definitely made something in tribute to Lilith and placed it at her tombstone

Belphegor

I’m gonna cheat a little bit bc while I don’t think it’s been brought up in canon, we do see it in his dance battle sprites… Ballet

It is the One Single Physical Activity Belphie’s into, and no it’s Not because ballet is easier than other activities

That is a bullshit lie fed to you by sexism, since ballet is perceived as more feminine than say, basketball or wtv

If ballet’s the base of your dance knowledge, you can do a lot of different styles with it, using a variety of techniques

But I imagine Belphie’s style is more classical leaning

He will literally do exercises in place to stay awake, his core is excellent

He can go on pointe, but because he sometimes takes long breaks from dance it may take him a while to build his strength back up to do it safely

Also it is now my headcanon that one of those breaks did not take place during his attic-captivity, because what would piss Lucifer off more than the THUNKS of Belphie’s slippers at odd hours?

THUNKS, you ask? But ballet shoes are so delicate lookin-

Toe shoes, my friend. Toe shoes.

They contain a wooden box at the toe which help support a dancer’s feet when they go on pointe. At shows, the music drowns it out, but if you’ve ever heard a pointe dancer practice in person, it is Loud. Not actually as graceful as it looks lol

Also also, does this mean Beel could have repaired Belphie’s shoes at some point? I dunno, i have no clue how ballet shoes are made. But i think it’d be sweet if he did ^-^

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #om:swd #obey me headcanon #mine #my writing #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor

[angelthebedsheet]

If you’re ok with it, could you do Hawks, Todoroki, Shinsou, Bakugo and Kaminari with a black support engineer s/o with big curly hair and stretched ears? Maybe she wears gauges with their hero theme? Just some cute fluff!

a/n: oooooh bitch okayyyyy!! i like that! hawks my lil bird bitch ✋🏽🥺

your quirk! super brain.

what is it? you have the ability to memorize things easily, piece complex puzzles together, make great strategies. you essentially are a megamind. you are incredibly smart invention-wise. you are skilled in support hero work so you are one of the go to’s for hero modifications, suits and basic designs.

hero name? hakim: the tinker hero

why the name hakim? from what i searched up it has arabic and african significance and it’s one of the 99 names based on the attributes of Allah. the two famous bearers of this name were hakim ajmal khan, the india physician and hakim muhammad saeed, a pakistani medical researcher. if i got any of this wrong please message me so i can fix this! i want to stay as respectful as possible as i love to include names that hold a message!

i might have to split this into two parts bc this gets long!! i just assumed reader is fem presenting bc you can use feminine pronouns and not be a girl like me. also disclaimer i only take 4 characters at a time per request but i dont think at the time of this request i had finalized my requirements in my masterlist so IMMA LET IT SLIDE. sorry this is late as SHIT. lets get it!

——————————————————————————

Hawks

okay we all know he’s a lil shit

and we all know how he be

you are working on your next commission piece in your studio when your window opens

you can only sigh

“what happened kei.”

“now birdie dont get mad now okay”

“what did you do.”

“i may have.... broke my visor and destroyed my jacket?”

how the fuck do you do that.

“what.”

“ahahah...”

boot to the face

when you two were first dating

which was back in hs

you helped him figure out how his hero costume would be along with how they would sit comfortably on his wings

i mean i love the idea of you roasting him while measuring him

“where’s your fuckin DRIP kei.”

“y/n PLEASE. i came here to get a new costume not get slandered”

“well you jus gon have to deal with it sugar, especially when you look like a mess.”

he had definitely bought you so many gauges that have little red feathers hanging from it

or simply his initials hanging from it to the point where you just wear one of his feathers around your neck

marking his territory and making sure you are safe

protective and trendy!

i hc that he has alot of bird like tendencies so you probably have to stop him from stealing the lil shiny things you have

your nuts and bolts allat

“keigo put my bolt down”

“but its so SHINY”

“NO.”

cue keigo’s WHINING

sometimes he just sits on his stool you put for him and play with your ears

like he’ll stare at them and ask you questions

“do they hurt?”

“kei im trying to focus”

“like they’re all stretched how long did they take?”

or he’ll bounce your curls

you’re just polishing a piece of hero gear

here comes kei silently sitting on his stool and gently grabbing a strand of your hair

pulling it down then you hear a quiet

“boing”

i hc that kei has adhd, has lil tic and has to fidget

(can you tell i self project onto majority of them)

(i mean hawks’ quirk must be IMMACULATE for fidgeting 😫👌🏽👌🏽)

(its dead his fault why i have a pretty bird tic)

and one day

“kei baby, here.” you said as you handed him a box. he cocked his head slightly as he looked at it. “what is this, dove?” he asked as he took the box. “well, i made you something to help with your fidgets.” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck. his wings puffed out as he smiled. he opened the box and gasped. you watched as his eyes brightened while he took out the keychain fidget toy. it has multiple sides to it. metal rings connected by two hoops, red, white and beige plastic bangs that were at the ends with two small red feathers at the chains. you watched as he bit his lips and tried not to cause a big reaction. “do you like it, pretty bird?” you asked. he nodded and pulled you into a hug. “thank you so much, baby.” he said into your shoulder. “and you can hook it onto your pants. cute, right?” you said as you gently rubbed his back. “yep, i’m cuddling the fuck outta you. lets go.” he said as he let you go and sweeped you up into his arms. you squealed with a giggle and wrapped your arms around his neck as he ran to the bedroom.

Todoroki Shouto

yall are in hs okay no time skips lmao

todoroki loves EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU

i mean he has so many sneaky pics of you working on your projects

oil on the cheek, gloves, goggles

straight up working in your zone

he will post on his story sometimes like

“look at my s/o”

“they’re working hard”

dry ass cute shit yk?

he carries scrunchies and glass cleaners 24/7

you take your projects on the go so he’ll just take out a scrunchie and neatly pull them curls back into a pineapple

my mans lowkey was struggling at first bc DAMN

CURLS BE FIGHTIN HIM

love the idea of todoroki watching youtube tutorials bc he’s TIRED of getting his ass BEAT by them

he kinda gets a lil grossed out when you take out your gauges and your earlobe kinda just dangles

like earrings in? cool asf

them out? my mans fold like a lawn chair. he looks away or makes a stink face

“are they in?”

“yes they’re in you lil baby. you can try attempted murder but you can’t look at stretched earlobes?”

“shut UP”

he does internally swoon when you put in gauges that match his hair colour

like you love him that much? okay i see

he’s amazed by how you work

sometimes he’ll just stand behind you like a lil sibling in the door way

“mom said it’s my turn on the xbox.”

(not at how me and todoroki are both the youngest siblings)

when you saw his first hero costume you busted out LAUGHING

that day you roasted todoroki to the point where he left

“janitor looking ass. my nigga where you goin? a space adventure? scary ass.”

“😐 are you done.”

“space jam headass, lookin like a g.i joe action figure. terminator lookin ass.”

“alright im leaving”

“no wait come back andjajdjsba”

i hc that todoroki has panic and anxiety attacks and things like that

so you made him a little sumn sumn for his anxiety

“candy, look here for a second?” you called out, making todoroki hum and look up from his notebook. “what happened?” he asked as he cocked his head slightly. “made you something.” you said as you handed him a small box. his eyes light up as he gently took the box. “really? are you sure?” he questioned. you only nodded with a smile as you placed your pencil behind your ear. you watched as he carefully opened the box. he pulled out a tan clicker toy and smiled confused. “what’s this, bub?” he questioned as he placed the box down. “a fidget toy i made for you that can help with your anxiety. it can help ground you when you feel overwhelmed? hopefully? oh! it also has a music box feature.” you said as you pointed at the back of the toy. he silently turned the toy around and you leaned over and pressed a button that played a music box version of a pearl by mitski. you watched as his shoulders loosened up at the sound of his favorite song. he placed the toy down while he tried to hold his smile back. he sighed and smiled widely. “thank you, i love it, bubba.” he said sweetly. “i’m glad you like it.” you whispered. “may i kiss you?” he asked. you simply nodded before he gently cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your lips. you pulled him into a hug.

#x black reader #x female reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x poc!reader #todoroki shouto x reader #hawks x reader #shinsou x reader #kaminari x poc!reader #bnha x black reader #bnha x reader

[sarah-sandwich]

"I need a hug" please and thank you!

Hi friend! Here it is! Remind me to never commit to a fic a day for an entire week again lmao

Happy last day of National Storyteller Week to everyone who creates or consumes stories! Jump over to my ao3 for 5 ridiculous parkner fics 👌✨💛

Peter, no

He probably should have clued in sooner, a lot sooner.

Him and Peter have been attached at the hip for three years, ever since Peter ran into the lab in the middle of a video call with Tony, shouted something about an arm-wrestling tournament with the Avengers, and begged, “You gotta come trash talk them for me! Please, Mr. Stark! No one roasts as good as you!” Then, after receiving Tony’s resigned agreement, exclaimed, “I’m gonna dislocate Captain America’s shoulder!” turned tail and sprinted back out, ignoring Tony’s, “Peter, no!”

It was over in under a minute but he was bewitched.

“Who was that? And why haven’t I met him?”

“I’ve been avoiding this day,” Tony said in a world-weary tone. “You’re either going to hate each other or get on like a house fire. Either way, I’ll never know peace again.”

In usual Tony Stark fashion, he was right.

He thought he’d seen every side of Peter there is. He’s seen him soft and sleepy under the blue glow of the television. He’s seen him wired and manic as he pursues a project on little to no sleep. He’s seen him broken and bleeding in more ways than he cares to count. He’s seen him laughing until he cries, crying so hard the only thing he can do is cry with him, too exhausted to feed himself, too angry to speak, and he’s been there when he’s on the cusp of dropping dead from embarrassment (usually pointing and laughing but hey, somebody’s gotta keep him humble).

He knows him like he knows his sister, like he knows his mom, like he knows himself.

His point is, it shouldn’t have taken this camping trip to put the pieces together. Realization shouldn’t have hit him like a log to the face when Peter rolled up the sleeves of his borrowed flannel and suddenly he couldn’t breathe for wanting to kiss him stupid.

Well, stupider.

A moment later, Peter picked up the bag of tent poles like they weighed nothing and somehow managed to dump them all over the side of the road like a can of pick-up-sticks.

It’s gonna be a long weekend.

~*~

“What’s this thing for again?” Peter asks, raising his arms high over his head to hold up the long swath of fabric two times his height.

“It’s a rain fly, Peter. It keeps out the rain.”

“It’s not supposed to rain. Trust me, Aunt May checked the weather like 50 times before she would let me leave.”

“We still need it.”

“But why? We could sleep under the stars.”

“It traps in heat.”

“Sounds like another tally in the cons column. It’s hot as fuck, dude.”

“Not tonight it won’t be. Temperature fluctuates a lot in the mountains, especially when the sun goes down.”

“Temperature fluctuates in the mountains,” Peter repeats mockingly.

Harley stops what he’s doing. “If you really wanna sleep under the stars I don’t have to share my tent. Enjoy the skeeters.”

“You love me too much to leave me to sleep with the wildlife,” Peter says, voice muffled from under the rain fly as he attempts to drape it over the erected tent.

His heart skips. Does he know? Has he been that obvious even while oblivious to his own feelings? Did Peter figure it out before he did? Has he been graciously not saying anything about his huge undeniable crush while—

Peter squawks and tumbles forward, the tent collapsing under him with a snap that echoes through the trees. The rain fly flutters over him like a burial shroud.

“Please tell me whatever just broke was a part of you.”

“Uhh, sorry.”

He sighs. He’s in love with an idiot.

~*~

The tent leans a little to the left when they’re done with it but he’s pretty sure it’ll hold up through the night. Just in case, they limit how often they go in and out of it (which, in his opinion, is the way it should be done regardless).

A breeze rustles the trees, scattering pine needles as birds chitter and small unseen wildlife scurries around the underbrush. He breathes in deep, savoring the scent of dirt, pine, and fresh air. He’s been in the city far too long.

Peter stands with his hands on his hips, dirt crusted on the knees of his jeans, his borrowed flannel pulling tight across his chest as he watches a puffy white cloud scoot by with a befuddled expression.

He turns to Harley. “So umm, now what?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. You’re the one who’s never done this before?”

Peter stares at him blankly.

“Right. Forgot who I was talking to.” He shakes his head and walks over to the car with a sigh. “This way, city boy. It’s time you learned to fish.”

“Sounds smelly.”

“Mmm.” He pops the trunk and pulls out two fishing rods—one old and dinged up, the other brand-spankin-new—and he passes them to Peter so he can grab the tackle box and a white plastic bucket with a lid on it.

“And slimy,” Peter continues, wrinkling his nose at the bold ‘WORMS’ printed on the side of the white bucket.

“That it is, but there aren’t any rats and no one has pissed on the place you need to sit so it’s automatically better than anything the city has to offer.”

“We’ll see about that,” Peter grumbles.

~*~

“Y’know,” Harley drawls lazily, eyes half-lidded as he watches Peter jump from rock to rock along the shoreline, “usually when people are lookin’ to catch a fish they cast their line into the water rather than leavin’ it on the ground.”

“Oh is that how it’s done? I had no idea,” Peter says, stooping down to peer into a small pool sequestered away from the rest of the body of water. “What do tadpoles look like?”

“Uh, little squirmy guys.”

“Very descriptive, thank you.”

“Mhmm. Anytime, darlin’.”

Peter looks up at him, eyes narrowed and he jolts under the sudden scrutiny.

“What?” he asks. He always calls him darling. It’s just a thing he says—a southern thing. So what if over the years he’s stopped using the name for anyone else? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not weird.

“Are you falling asleep?” Peter asks.

“Pfft, no,” he says. The sun is deliciously warm, seeping into his skin and turning his bones to butter as the katydids buzz and birds sing. A warm breeze ruffs his hair and he finds himself blinking slowly.

“Dude, you’re totally falling asleep.” Peter grins playfully and hopscotches across the rocks back to him as he teases, “You know, usually when someone wants to catch a fish, they do it while they’re awake.”

“I am awake, dummy.”

“Not for much longer.” He comes to a stop at his side and tweaks the brim of his hat. “Look at you. You’re like an old man falling asleep in his recliner in front of the big game.”

“Napping is a perfectly respectable part of fishing,” he argues.

Peter throws back his head and laughs. Backed by blue sky and thickly forested mountain, sunlit from above, he’s never looked better.

Should he tell him? Is now the time? He can’t imagine living like this—knowing how he feels but bottling it up and keeping it a secret from his best friend.

Then again—

His fishing rod dips and he sits up with a start, hands already moving for the reel.

“Woah, is that a fish?” Peter exclaims, peering into the lake.

“Sure hope so. Can’t imagine what else it’d—,”

“Can I pull it in?” Peter asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excitable puppy.

“No, you if wanna get a fish you have to put in the work.”

“What work? Laying around half-asleep?”

“Yeah, exactly. I’ll let you take it off the line, how ‘bout that?”

“Eh, that’s okay. I’m good.”

He wrestles the fish out of the lake, a bass about two hands long, and then holds the flopping fish, hooked through the lip, out to Peter.

“There you go. Just pop that puppy off the hook and toss ‘im back in.”

“Wait, you don’t even keep the fish?”

“What would I do with a fish?”

“…eat it?”

“That’s a whole song and dance I ain’t got the tools or the patience for. Just grab the fish, Pete. Preferably before it suffocates.”

Peter makes an unhappy sound in his throat but reaches for the fish. Just as his fingers brush the scales, the fish gives a mighty wiggle and Peter flinches back towards the lake.

“Eep!” Peter squeaks and goes into the water with a splash.

Harley hunches over, laughing his head off as Peter sits up, water streaming down his face and dripping from his hair.

“I hate you.” Slipping and sliding in the muck, he makes his way through the mid-thigh deep water, back to dry land, and then keeps walking past Harley and up the hill to the trail that will lead him back to camp.

All the while Harley laughs and laughs, taking a moment to free the fish back into the lake before he sits down and tips his face to the sun, chuckling and committing to memory the way Peter’s soaked jeans and flannel clung all over his body.

~*~

“I still don’t see why—,”

“Shush,” Peter snaps, frowning in concentration over the tiny flame he’s been babying to life for the past fifteen minutes.

He sighs. He tried to convince him to wait until supper for a campfire meal but Mr. Eager Beaver insisted on trying his hand at it now. Had they made sandwiches they’d be done by now and could be hiking. But no. Peter wants to play Boy Scout so they’re going to sit here and starve until he gets a fire built just to spend five minutes roasting hot dogs and then have to put it out again.

To make matters worse, Peter’s no longer wearing his shirt since it got soaked in the lake. He’d gotten attached to how he looks in his clothes. Now he’s wearing on one of his standard nerd-pun tees and a wrinkly pair of khaki cargo shorts and he’s going to have to convince him to at least put on long socks before they hike or he’s going to risk getting poison ivy or poison oak all over his calves and ankles.

“There it goes! There it goes!” Peter exclaims, sitting up tall and motioning at him to look at the little flame as it eats up the pile of twigs and tinder.

“Very good, dear,” he says dryly. “Now see if you can keep it going with some real wood.”

Peter cocks his head at him. “Was that a double-entendre?”

“Why on earth would I imply that we should put a part of my human anatomy in the fire, Peter?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, squatting beside the fire as he breaks up a stick. “Dick jokes are funny.”

“You’re a child.”

“And yet you— Shit!” He flinches back from the fire and falls on his backside.

He comes alert with a spike of adrenaline, rushing forward to— to— pat out flames with his bare hands? He doesn’t know. “What happened?” he demands, checking Peter over for damage and finding nothing, not a burn or singe in sight.

Still sprawled on the ground, Peter looks up at him through his eyelashes with an embarrassed grimace. “I don’t want to say.”

“But you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he sits up cross-legged and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He stares down at him as he looks down in his lap. “You’re really not going to tell me what just happened? I already saw you fall in a lake because you were scared of a fish. It can’t be worse than that.”

Peter looks up, neck crimped and mouth screwed into an unhappy pucker. “I thought something was on me but it was just the grass.”

Harley stares. “So, you thought a bug was on you.”

“Yeah. I’m starting to think I’m not cut out for this place.”

What has he gotten himself into?

~*~

Peter hasn’t stopped chattering about everything under the sun since they left camp. And considering where they are, there’s a lot to chatter about. From bugs to birds to types of trees and identifying clouds, he’s heard it all. It’s why he’s not paying attention to the path like he should, too busy watching the way Peter waves his hands animatedly as he rambles, the way the sun lights his eyes and makes his hair shine, the way his lips shape the words.

He hasn’t taken in a word he’s said for the past twenty minutes but he’s watched him with rapt attention while his mind churns through his options. He’s not one to ignore something once he knows about it. He doesn’t want to keep this a secret. There’s no reason to. It’s nothing shameful and if Peter doesn’t reciprocate then… well, nothing changes, right? He’s fine with that. Best friends is still good. Great, even.

But if Peter does reciprocate…

His breathing quickens at the thought. How did he not notice this ridiculous crush sooner? It’s like something has been awakened inside him and now it refuses to shut up and go back to sleep. He gravitates towards Peter like an orbiting moon. He’s a moth to Peter’s beam of light. Helpless under the thrall.

Peter suddenly looks right at him. “—you know what I mean?”

“Huh?” His foot lands wrong and rolls over a root. His ankle screams out and then he’s dropping as it gives out.

“Woah!” Peter catches him, one arm around his back and the other fisted into his shirt at his shoulder. His brain goes offline, only processing the way Peter is pressed against him, the way his face is angled over him like he’s on the verge of dipping him into a kiss, the way neither of them moves or speaks, staring instead with startled realization.

He thinks he imagines it when Peter’s eyes dilate but then they fix on his lips and there’s no way he’s imagining that.

Lights flash in his head and he forgets to breathe as they hang suspended in time.

Then Peter bites his lip and his cheeks flush dark pink as he yanks Harley upright.

He stumbles, unprepared, and his ankle gives out a second time.

Peter catches him by the elbows babbling, “Oh my God, I’m sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to—,”

“I’m fine. I…” The rest of the sentence vanishes from his tongue as he looks into Peter’s eyes. He loves his eyes—warm and affectionate, they always give him away. Whether they’re bright with curiosity, sparkling with delight, wide with embarrassment, or narrowed in anger, he’s an open book. That’s why the look in his eyes now gives him pause. He’s never seen it before—or maybe it’s been there all along but he hasn’t noticed until now.

They’re dark and focused like he’s seeing through him into his soul and likes what he sees so much he wants to eat him alive.

His heart thunders as he lifts a hand to Peter’s cheek. This is it. This is the moment he tells him and finds out where they’re going to go next.

Peter’s eyes go wide and he swallows thickly, but then his gaze shifts beyond him and he freezes except to carefully grab his forearm in a too-tight grip.

“Bear,” Peter breathes.

His awareness of their surrounding returns so suddenly it hurts. Birds sing, bugs buzz and chirp, somewhere nearby a creek burbles, and behind him on the path, something scuffs the ground and then snorts and sniffs harshly.

“No,” he says quietly. No, he refuses to allow this to be his reality. This cannot be happening. He won’t allow this to happen.

“Harley, bear,” Peter repeats, grip tightening.

Oh my God, this is happening.

“Don’t run,” he says in an undertone. “You’re not supposed to run.”

“We gotta run.”

“Peter, no.”

“Harley, there’s a fucking bear.”

“Listen to me—,”

“I’m gonna grab you—,”

“—we gotta stay still and—,”

“I’ll carry you and—,”

“—non-threatening so—,”

“I’m going to get you up a tree and then—,”

“—it won’t chase us.”

“—the bear will chase me.”

“Peter—,”

“It’ll be fine.”

“—no.”

~*~

He waits in the tree for over an hour, ankle throbbing, sick to his stomach with worry, wondering if he’ll ever see the idiot he stupidly fell in love with ever again. Even if he didn’t get eaten by the bear, he’s no good out here in the woods. He could be lost. He could be too hurt to move. He could be—

—covered in what smells like animal shit and standing balefully at the base of the tree.

“I need a hug,” Peter says, voice small.

“Did you—,”

“I did what needed to be done.”

“So that’s—,”

“Don’t say it. Do you need help getting down?”

“I’ll figure it out. Don’t touch me.”

“That’s fair. I’ll be in the lake. Will you bring me all of the soap and soap-like products we own?”

“Yeah. Gimme a minute.”

“Thanks, Harley.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

I love you. I’m glad you’re not dead. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come back. My life wouldn’t be the same without you in it. You’re everything I want.

“You’re an idiot,” he says.

Peter nods. “Yeah.”

~*~

“Black bears can run 35 miles per hour,” he says conversationally. They’re sprawled on a blanket while the fire crackles nearby (but not too close, they’ve had enough disasters for one day). His foot is propped on the tackle box, elevating his ankle and Peter is beside him, flat on his back staring up at the stars through the trees, close enough that their arms brush.

“Trust me, I know.”

“They can also climb trees,” he continues reading from his phone. “You should never climb a tree to avoid a bear.”

“Harley—,”

“If a bear notices you, stay calm. Most bears don’t want to attack you.”

“Dude, I get it.”

“Move away slowly and sideways. Do not run. Do not climb a tree.”

Peter snatches the phone out of his hands and sits up. “I panicked, okay? I can’t lose you! I had to get you out of there.”

He goes still, the crackling of the fire and the crickets the only sound in the night.

“Say again?”

“Don’t,” Peter says harshly, still holding his phone far out of reach. “Don’t make fun of me about this one. You don’t get it, okay?”

This isn’t how he expected this to happen. Hyper aware of his heart beating in his chest, he asks, “What don’t I get?”

“I was terrified.”

“And you think I wasn’t?”

“Not in the way I was. I was— It was like— It was like if anything happened to you, nothing would be okay ever again. I don’t—,” He pulls in a deep breath, chest heaving as his eyes shine uncommonly bright in the firelight. “I don’t know. You’re— Ever since we met things have just felt right and good in a way they hadn’t before and I’ve already lost so many people and then you were in danger and I couldn’t do nothing. I couldn’t.”

“Okay,” he says gently, sitting upright and scooting over on the blanket. “Okay.” He takes the phone and sets it aside then takes Peter’s hand in both of his. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m okay.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Peter says miserably, sniffing and wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand. “I think I have been for a long time.”

“Well, that’s lucky because I think I’m in love with you too.”

“You— What?”

“Mhmm. Since at least this morning.”

Peter stares at him. His lips twitch. “This morning? For real? Are you teasing me?”

“A hundred percent serious. It hit me right before you dumped my tent poles all over 36th street. Unrelated, you should wear my clothes more often.” He pauses and then says, “I think today was the universe asking me if I was sure I wanted to be tied down to your dumb ass for the rest of forever.”

“And?” Peter asks, eyes wide in the firelight.

“Yeah,” he says, smoothing a curl away from his forehead. “I’m sure.”

Peter leans in and kisses him, soft and quick. “Is that okay?”

Heart in his mouth, he says, “I think you can do better.”

Peter laughs and smooths his thumb over his cheekbone. “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

#writing prompt #peter city boy parker goes camping with harley country boy keener #shenanigans ensue #mutual pining #heh heh geddit? #they're camping in the forest with the pines #but also the regular kind of pining #friends to lovers #parkner #parley #peter parker/harley keener #peter parker #harley keener #playboyphilanthro-pissed

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

The Perfect Morning

You have been asking for it loud and clearly so I decided to write the Sprace baby you’ve all been waiting for. This is part of the “Life in the ER'' Series but a rare moment that doesn’t take place in the hospital. There are curse words and mentions of a hospital/working in a hospital. As always, feedback would be wonderful and would make me very happy. And if you have anything you’d like to see happen in the series, just let me know - I’m always looking for new situations to put our favorite characters into!

April 17, 2021

The house was quiet when he woke. It hadn’t been that quiet in almost six months and his first thoughts were holy shit. The second was questioning the time. He rolled over and looked at the green numbers of the clock - 7:34.

Running a hand over his face, he sighed before letting the hand flop to the other side of the bed. Empty. Cold. Sitting up, he blinked a couple of times, allowing his eyes to scan the room.

“Spottie?” He called, pushing himself off the bed and heading towards the room across the hall.

Pushing open the door, he was surprised to see it was empty. The dark wooden crib they had spent hours debating about sat across from the door, a light blanket thrown over the side. A mint green onesie was haphazardly thrown near the hamper and a stuffed elephant was nearby but otherwise nothing was out of place.

Continuing on his journey, he headed towards the living room thinking his husband and young child could be there but he came up empty once more. The dog was even missing which caused him to pause in his hunt.

At that moment, he fell in love with his husband a bit more. Here it was a rare morning that Spot didn’t have an early morning shift at the hospital; yet he had gotten up, taken care of their child and puppy so he could sleep in a bit.

Their lives were flipped upside down with the adoption of their daughter. It had been a period of adjustment for all of them, especially for their puppy, Sassie. From the moment they brought their little girl home, life had completely changed for the good. The two of them had always been a great team; however, they didn’t know how good of a team they would be until the doctor handed them Mackenzie Jayne Higgins-Conlon and wished them congratulations.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Race grinned putting in creamer before heading out to their front porch. He shouldn’t be surprised Spot would do this - it’s just him and his little ways of showing love. Taking a seat, he took a sip of his coffee as he waited for the rest of his family to return from whatever adventure they had gone on.

Relaxing into the chair, he sighed, listening to the birds chirp in the trees as he held the warm mug in his hands. Just as he went to kick his feet up, Sassie came bounding up the stairs, with her leash dragging behind her. Putting his mug on the table, he bent over and rubbed his hands up and down her sides, wishing her a good morning.

“Where’s dad, Sass?” He asked, looking down the street for him. What he saw caught him off guard.

Spot was pushing the jogging stroller that Jack and Kat had gotten them as a shower gift, shirtless, hair pushed back by a headband and sunglasses over his eyes. Race took a moment to publically ogle his husband, appreciating the physique that Spot effortlessly maintained. Race was careful not to let his jaw drop at how utterly gorgeous his husband was. There were very few times he could unabashedly stare at his husband and he was going to take full advantage of it.

Unclipping Sassie’s leash, he opened the front door for her to go inside before he bounded down the stairs to where Kenzie and Spot were. Race couldn’t help but catcall and whistle as he came closer to the two. “Hey good lookin.”

Grinning, Spot looked up from where he was unclipping Mack. “Hey yourself.”

“Have I mentioned how utterly gorgeous you are lately?” Race saunted closer to his husband and daughter with a shit eating grin on his face.

Spot adjusted Mack in his arms before throwing his head back and laughing. “Right now I’m a sweaty mess but thanks for the compliment. I wanted to give you a chance to sleep in since you’ve been taking night duty.”

“Sweaty mess or not, you’re hot. Own that. And thanks, I appreciate it.” Race leaned over and kissed him. “Did little miss enjoy the run?”

Spot kissed him back before handing Mack over to him. He leaned down to grab something out of the bottom of the stroller before giving Race a bright smile. “She was fussy when we first started but seemed to settle down as I got into a rhythm. I did about a 45 minutes run. We ran through town, picked up breakfast before heading back.”

“You’re my hero.” Race said, walking back up the stairs to the front porch. “Do you want a cup of coffee or water?”

Spot waved him off. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Do you need anything before I do that?”

“Nah, we'll just hang out here. If she wants, send Sassie out here.” Race pressed a kiss to Kenzie’s forehead. “Come back out when you’re done.”

Spot dropped kisses to both Race and Mack’s foreheads before slipping into the house, only to open the door again to let Sassie out.

Settling Mack with her back against his chest, Race relaxed in the chair, listening to Mack babble to herself. “Did you have fun with daddy this morning, Kenzie?”

She tried to adjust herself to see Race. He picked her up so she was standing on his legs as she continued her babble. Race continued his conversation with her as she tried to put her fingers in his mouth. He playfully ate them as she dissolved into baby giggles. They continued that game until she caught sight of her puppy.

Soon she was leaning forward to try to pet Sassie. Putting her on the porch floor, she babbled to and crawled over Sassie as the dog watched her young sister protectively.

He heard the door open and close just as he took the last sip of his coffee. He smiled gratefully at Spot as he spied the cups of coffee in his hands. Spot handing him one with a smirk. “Thanks. Feeling better?”

“Much less grimly and sweaty.” Spot took a seat, watching Sassie and Kenzie with a proud smile. “What’s the plan for the day?”

Race shrugged. “As far as I know, there are no plans. Jack and Kat mentioned getting together but nothing was ever put into place.”

“If they don’t reach out, I’m all in favor of a lazy day. We haven’t had one of those in a while so that’s my vote.” Spot said, stretching his legs out in front of him as he reached out and laced his fingers with Race’s.

Race nodded, squeezing their hands. “If I haven’t mentioned it lately, I’m proud of the life we’ve built. Perfect husband, perfect daughter and dog. Jobs we both love and great friends and family.”

“Sap.” Spot was quick to tease him but squeezed his hand. “I love our life too. Love you Racer.”

“Love you too Spottie.” Race leaned over and kissed him. “What did you bring for breakfast?”

Spot chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s always food with you.”

“Not always.” Raising his eyebrows up and down suggestively, Race smirked. “But I’m hungry for food right now.”

Spot pushed himself off the chair before sauntering into the house and returning with the white bag from earlier. “I got a couple of different things - didn’t know what you would be in the mood for.”

“Thanks snookums.” Race opened the bag, pulling out a cinnamon twist donut before taking a bit. “When do you work next?”

“Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday this week.” Spot drug through the bag taking out a donut. “Plums is working Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday with me so it’ll be a good couple of shifts.”

“Kenzie in daycare Wednesday and Friday?” Race inquired trying to keep the schedule fight.

Spot nodded. “Yea. You’ve got what seven weeks left of the school year?”

“I think. Days are starting to blend together.” Race sighed. “I’m just ready for summer.”

“We’ll have to figure out what we’re going to do. I have a couple of weeks of vacation that need to be used up before September.” Spot gave him a look. “Maybe we can head to the mountains or a beach. She’ll love the water.”

Race nodded. “Maybe Kat, Jack, Al, and Finchie would want to do something, at least for a few days.”

“That’ll be fun. We know how much Kenz loves Addie.” Spot grinned, thinking about the trouble the two would eventually get up to, as the two were only 4 months apart.

Race groaned. “No talking about the two of them growing up. They’re 5 and 9 months old and that’s all my poor heart can take.”

“Calm down papa bear. She’s still our little girl and Addie is still our little niece.” Spot squeezed his hand. “But I do love your idea of making it a family affair. Maybe momma and Smalls would want in.”

Race relaxed in his chair, thinking about all the adventures they would have ahead of them. With Spot and Kenzie by his side, he was content and happy. A thought popped into his head as a sly grin crossed his lips. “So, uh, Spottie . . . wanna tell me how you’re such a ripped dad?”

Spot threw his head back laughing before reaching over and shoving Race’s shoulder. “I could but you wouldn’t be able to keep up with me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Race raised an eyebrow in a warning.

Spot snorted loudly. “Race you complain when you have to walk to the mailbox to get the mail - no way you’re running 45 minutes with me.”

“I can kick your ass boxing.” Race gave him a look as Spot sighed. “Want me to reserve the ring for next weekend?”

Picking up Kenzie, Spot gave him a look. “Sure and we can see who’s king of the ring. You’ll always reign supreme running circles around me but I might be able to take you in the ring.”

“Keep up with the trash talk . . . we’ll see who’s still standing and who will get the bragging rights.” Spot gave him a knowing look.

Race held out his hand as Spot interlocked his hand with Race’s with a grin. “You’re on.”

He watched Spot tickle their daughter’s belly as a shrill laugh escaped her mouth. She pushed at his hands as he looked down on her fondly. “Hey Spottie?”

“Yea Race?” Spot looked up from their daughter with a smile on his face.

“If I haven’t said it, you’re a really good dad. I love watching you two interact.” Race said as a fond smile crossed his face.

Spot leaned over and kissed Race. “You’re a really good papa with her. We make a pretty good team, huh?”

Race nodded, reaching over and tickling Kenzie’s stomach as the girl looked at her dads with a gummy smile. In Race’s book, there was no better place he’d rather be than on their front porch with his husband and daughter.

So what did you think? Feedback would be wonderful. If there's something specific you want to see in this verse, feel free to send me a message.

#Sprace #Spot Conlon #Racetrack Higgins #Baby Sprace #Life in the ER Newsies Series

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​​ || Day Twenty-Three: They’re Better Than That ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto ] [ SasuHina, vulgarity ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ] [ This piece is a sequel to Days Fourteen and Eighteen ]

Well...Sasuke can say this is certainly a first. And hopefully a last, as far as his career is concerned. Because as a hunter of monsters...working with one is the last thing he should be doing.

Though if he thinks about it...this isn’t the first partnership between himself and this soft-spoken harpy. When he’d targeted her as a potential trophy to prove himself as a Hunter, he’d instead ended up saving her life, teaming up with her against a far more dangerous threat: a vampire.

That, of course, wasn’t exactly planned on either of their parts. Sasuke never intended to spare a monster, and Hinata the harpy never expected to be allowed to live by a Hunter. But the most irritating thing - from Sasuke’s stance, at least - was Hinata’s insistence in her debt to him.

As it turns out...her kind take debt very, very seriously. ‘To the grave’ sort of serious. And now, she owed him her life.

Or so she claimed.

And Sasuke was not happy about that. It was bad enough he let her go, worse still that he lied to his family and clan of Hunters about it. He’d planned on simply avoiding her from then on, but Fate had another idea: to put her in the range of his first official case, looking into an illegal gambling ring run by a kitsune...or werefox, as they’re more technically called.

As it so happens, Hinata seems to know the man in question: one named Naruto, according to her. He’s already had a run-in with monster law, or Nightwalkers as they all call themselves. You’d think that would be enough to send him running him with his tail tucked between his legs. But just in case...Sasuke decides to pay him a visit. See if he can end this without violence.

Oh, if his father could see him now...he’s likely exile him.

But Hinata has pleaded on this Naruto’s behalf. Sure, he’s been swindling humans and risking an exposure of the worlds to one another, but apparently he’s really not a bad guy.

Sasuke will believe that when he sees it. But he promised Hinata he’d do what he could to avoid bloodshed.

Why? He’s not even sure anymore. Maybe he’s too soft to be a Hunter as his father feared. But...too late now.

“How much further?”

“His scent is getting pretty strong,” Hinata assures him softly. “Likely within a block.”

“You can really smell him?”

She glances to him curiously. “Yes…?”

“...sorry. Guess it’s just...weird to realize. I mean I know you can. Just...weird to see it in practice.”

Staring at him for a moment, Hinata dares to ask, “Because you kill us before you can do so?”

In spite of himself, he flinches with a grimace. “...yeah.”

“...I understand. I’ve never seen one of you up close before. It’s...still a little unsettling, if...if I can be honest.”

“It’s a lot less insulting than us talking about me killing you,” Sasuke rebukes, expression still torn.

She doesn’t have a reply for that, and in fact motions for him to pause as she takes a lungful of air at a crossroads of alleyways. “...I think -”

“Whoa!”

Hinata shrinks back with an eep and a flurry of feathers, Sasuke squawking gracelessly as she hides behind him.

In front of them, leaning back and looking ready to bolt, is a man fitting Sasuke’s given description of the werefox: blond, blue-eyed, tanned...this has to be their guy.

“N...Naruto-kun!” Hinata then offers, her bird-like traits vanishing as she realizes who very nearly bumped into her.

“...oh! Uh...Hinata, right? Man, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“S-sorry! I...I didn’t realize you were that close.”

The blond blinks. “You lookin’ for me?”

“Yes! Well...sort of…?” She gives Sasuke a wary, indicative glance. “I...I have someone here who needs to - to talk to you.”

“Uh...okay. Lookin’ to make some cash there, my dude? I’ve got a couple of really good -!”

“I’m not looking to gamble, let alone illegally,” Sasuke cuts in, already a bit annoyed by the man’s ‘too-cool’ attitude and slick way of speaking. The word ‘illegal’ makes Naruto shift his gears to a defensive posture. “I’ve been sent out by a local clan of Hunters to investigate your dealings and make sure they stop. Permanently.”

Panic laces Naruto’s face as he realizes just who and what Sasuke is. “W-whoa, wait - what? You’re a -? Aw shit, I already got lectured by that old wolf the other day, I don’t need this now, too!”

“Naruto-kun,” Hinata cuts in gently. “We...that is to say, I’m just w-worried about you. If both the Enforcers and the Hunters know about what you’ve been doing...you’re putting yourself in real danger by -!”

“No one’s seen me!” Naruto then cuts in, looking jittery. Sasuke subtly adjusts his posture, ready to give chase if he bolts. “I swear! Yeah I swindled a few Daywalkers but they’re dumb as a box of rocks! No one knows what I am, guarantee it!”

“Anyone come back angry after you swindled them?” Sasuke growls.

“No! Uh, well...okay, a few. But I can talk my way outta anything! Honest! They have no idea!”

“Your luck can’t last forever,” the Uchiha counters. “One of these days, you’re going to slip up and get caught. And if a human realizes what you are and their illusion is shattered, that’s going to make a really big mess. For me, and for your Enforcer friends. Surely you don’t want to piss us both off, right?”

Unbidden as his stress rises, a pair of golden, ink-tipped ears spring out of the man’s hair, pinned in worry. “Look, I-I don’t want any trouble, ‘ttebayo! I was just tryin’ to make a living! You know how hard it is to get a job around here?”

“I have some idea.”

“I got thrown out of the last three I had. They accused me of stealing! It wasn’t stealing, I just…” He gestures vaguely. “...it’s in my nature!”

“Wily foxes. Believe me, I know,” Sasuke mutters, arms crossing. “No-good thieves, swindlers, and con artists.”

“Hey!” Stepping between the two, Hinata puffs up, and despite them not being visible, Sasuke can still picture her feathers ruffling. “Naruto-kun isn’t a bad person - he’s better than that! Stereotypes like that hurt us a l-lot more than you know.”

“Yeah. Like birds being easily spooked and flighty?” Sasuke counters, seeing her wince. “He’s literally running an illegal gambling ring and ripping people off. He’s doing exactly what I said he’d do. And if he keeps doing it, he’s gonna lose a lot more than a job.”

“Please...there has to be s-something we can do…?”

“You, uh…” Naruto takes half a step back, hands lifted. “You’re not gonna kill me, are ya?”

“That depends entirely on what you do, fox,” Sasuke rebukes. “Because right now, I have orders to do just that to ensure you don’t stir up more trouble than you can handle and cause a major incident between humans and monsters.”

The blond pales, eyes widening.

After a pause, Sasuke sighs. “...but I’d rather not kill you. And the only way I can let that happen is if you swear that your swindling days are over. That you’re not gonna keep pulling these stunts and risk you, and a lot of other people, getting hurt because of the panic at a monster being seen. Quit the game altogether, go clean...and I can let you go.” He then steps forward, grabbing the front of the blond’s jacket and ignoring his yip of surprise. “But if I hear about any more werefoxes around here getting their paws dirty...I won’t be so merciful next time. Got it?”

Blanching, Naruto just gives several rapid nods, stumbling back as Sasuke releases his hold. “You...y-you got it, man. I-I’ll go clean! Never touch any cards or dice again, I s-swear it!”

“I’ll be holding you to that. Now get out of here and find something else to do than lurking around alleyways, huh?”

Not needing to be told twice, Naruto spins on a heel and - in a blink - shifts into a huge, two-tailed fox that bolts down the road and out of sight.

Sighing, Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose. “...I’m gonna be in so much shit if anyone finds out about this…”

“You did the right thing,” Hinata murmurs, hands folded at her front. “I think you s-scared him straight. I’ll check in on him later and...make sure.”

He gives her an unreadable glance. “...thanks.”

Considering him, Hinata then hesitantly admits, “You’re...nothing like I thought you would be.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re...not just a killer. You think, and...you reason. I’ve always heard that Hunters are ruthless...heartless.”

Thinking of his family and their records, Sasuke barely withholds a grimace. “...I might just be an exception to the rule.”

“Well...I’m glad you are. We’re really not bad people, you know. We’re just...t-trying to survive, like everyone else. Sure, some of us stir up trouble...a-and hurt people. But then again...so do Daywalkers. Humans, I mean,” she adds after a pause. “I think maybe...you see that.”

“All I see is me failing to do my job twice now,” he sighs.

“Well...that failure meant two people are still alive,” Hinata replies softly. “...doesn’t that mean something?”

Contradictions running through his mind and giving him a headache, Sasuke waves her off. “...I dunno. But you better get home, and...I better get out of here. And you,” he adds, pointing at her, “are no longer indebted to me. You repaid me with your help tonight, so let it go.”

“But you helped my friend! If anything, I -!”

“Look, I told you: being in debt to me is dangerous for you! If anyone I know were to see me talking to you and not cutting off your head, we’d both be good as dead. You need to stay the hell away from me from now on.”

Not expecting his sharp tone, she retreats a step, eyes wide and tinged with fright. “...b-but...it was you who came looking for me -?”

“This time. And the last time. I thought this would get that debt idea out of your head, but it seems I was wrong.” Stepping up, he rests his finger against her collarbone, trying to look intimidating. “...for your own sake...never see me again.”

Unreadable flickers of emotions dart across her face. “...a-as you wish.”

Hoping he’s made his point, Sasuke stares at her a moment longer before backing away and heading back toward the main road. Why he bothered trying to warn her, he doesn’t understand. She’s a monster. His mortal enemy. What should he care if her actions get herself killed? It would just be one less of them to worry about!

...and yet...it’s getting awfully hard to draw a line between himself, and any other human he knows...and her. Sure, she can burst into feathers, but...her mannerisms, her behavior, her emotions...they’re all exactly like anyone else.

...they’re human.

Buried in his thoughts as he walks, Sasuke stands beside his bike for a long moment, not wanting to drive with his head in the clouds. Everything he’s been taught about monsters - about Nightwalkers - seems to be less and less meaningful the more he interacts with them. Decades, centuries of tradition...are they...wrong…?

Scowling to himself, Sasuke forces the dilemma aside - he needs to report back. He doesn’t have Naruto’s head to present them...and admitting he let the guy go isn’t an option. He can claim the fox escaped...but that won’t stop the hunt for him. Naruto will have to lay low for a good long while for his kin to give up the chase.

But hopefully he realizes that much.

Hoping astride his bike and kicking up the stand, Sasuke veers from the curb and turns around back toward home. He’s too tired and too frustrated to be thinking about all of this. It’s far too large a topic...and he doesn’t have all the answers. Nor can he ask anyone - questioning their oath to rid the world of monsters will surely just get him in trouble. He doesn’t even dare ask Itachi.

...so for now, he’ll just...try not to think about it.

     Woo, another piece done today! No idea if there’ll be a third, but we’ll see lol      Anywho, more of the new-plot monster verse! This one is growing on me, I’ll admit it. I wasn’t sure it would since I had another multi-part story in this verse with an alternate plot - I thought it’d bore me. But I’m pleasantly surprised lol - and hopefully you guys are enjoying it!      I always feel like I can’t write Naruto well. So hopefully I did a passable job with him, eh heh~      Otherwise, I...guess there’s not much to say? I’ve gotta run and get some irl things done, but we’ll see about another part today. We’re still five days behind, but...better than nothing xD Hope y’all enjoyed and I’ll see you in the next one!

#sasuhinabigflash2020 #shbf2020 #sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uzumaki naruto #vulgarity // #of monsters and men [ au ]

[unofficialkfamtranscripts]

King Falls AM - Episode 9: Jack in the Box Jesus

View on Google Docs

Summary: September 1, 2015 - An alleged sighting of the Lord & Savior at a downtown fast food restaurant has the residents of King Falls ready for deliverance, meanwhile Sammy & Ben try to navigate the flood waters of this revelation.

[podcast intro music]

Mayor Grisham Ladies and gentlemen, I promise you that while it is a terrible inconvenience that our modern electronics are out— this is not the end of the world. It could be a refreshing change of pace! Instead of reading, on your tablet, go down to the King Falls library, and check out the real thing! Instead of texting your BFF, go enjoy some pancake puppies at Rose’s! and have a face-to-face chat. This isn’t as bad as it seems— and it could be a blessing in disguise.

[KFAM intro music]

Sammy Good morning guys and dolls, you’re listening to King Falls AM—

Ben —That’s 660 on the radio dial.

Sammy And this is day 13 of what has been dubbed the King Falls Electrolocaust.

Ben This has easily been the hardest two weeks of my professional career.

Sammy It has been tough, but Ben and I want to thank you, and everyone out there listening, for the continuing support of the show.

Ben We got another doozy of a show for you tonight, King Falls. During hour two, we’ll be interviewing Maria Chandler, manager of the King Falls Apple store, and speaking about the effects the shut down has had on business.

Sammy As well as fielding your calls and talking about whatever’s clever this evening.

Ben I miss computers, Sammy. I miss the schedule. Our automated systems, my alarm clock. I’ve went through three the legal pads in two weeks!

Sammy [sympathetic] I know, buddy.

Ben I would literally watch Channel 13 if given the chance.

Sammy Wow. That’s saying a lot.

Ben [softly] I need my life back.

Sammy King Falls, how are you taking the modern electronic shut down of 2015? Are you refreshed? Reliving the mid-90s? Or— are you falling apart like our dear Ben Arnold?

Ben I’d listen to boy bands, to have a working smartphone. I’d wear, puka shell necklaces and sell my pog collection,[1] if you give me five minutes with my email.

Sammy Look on the bright side, Ben. You’re spending all your free time down at the library, and I haven’t called you out on it!

Ben That’s calling me out on it.

Sammy Eh-Well- and you know it’s nice hearing the birds tweeting instead of @kingfallsam. I’m not saying I don’t miss it but, I’m enjoying this a little bit.

Ben ♫It’s tearing up my heart when I’m with yoouu♫[2]

Sammy The references are not gonna bring back your goods.

Ben [hurt] Dammit Sammy, let’s just take a call from our jury-rigged phone system.

[bg music being provided by Chet’s record player]

Sammy You’re live with Sammy and Ben.

Cynthia Yeeaah, I wanna talk about the outages.

Sammy Cynthia Higgenbaum, ladies and gents. How are you doing during this electronic crisis?

Cynthia [blissful] I feel the warm embrace of the chastity belt that’s been placed on society. I’m relieved, de-stressed, marvelous!

Ben *chuckling* Whoa, heh, that’s- that’s a heck of a change!

Cynthia [suddenly aggressive] What are you trying to say, Ben?

Sammy It’s just you’re usually- you’ve been a little… pessimistic in the past.

Cynthia [mostly calm again] Ohhh, I still have problems; I’m full up with issues. But right now, I don’t have to worry about what websites my husband is perusing, what brain-dead TV my kids are watching— I’m at peace! It’s just me and my harlequin novels. Plus, with Jesus back and all—

Ben [jokingly suggestive] 50 Shades of Cynthia

Cynthia [angrily] Don’t be filthy Ben Arnold! I Know Your Mother!

Sammy I-I’m sorry, Cynthia— did you just say that Jesus is back?

Cynthia [gossipy tone] Have you guys not heard the news?

Ben Is she talking about Jesus Jesus?

Cynthia There’s only one.

Sammy Wellll, I think Mexico would disagree, but please tell us why you think Jesus—

Cynthia [snappy] I don’t think Sammy, I know! [softer] Earlier this evening, he was spotted glowing and speaking in tongues at Jack in the Box.[3]

Ben The one off Main Street or Red Oak Avenue?

Cynthia Ew, nobody does to Red Oak.

Sammy [softly] Jack-in-the-Box-Jesus.

Cynthia Oh, Hell no! I will not participate in that blasphemy. You’re gonna get smited—

Sammy Oh, I- I mean- I wasn’t- I’m sorry, I’m not meaning to, uh—

Cynthia Tell it to Satan! In Hell, Sammy! [hangs up forcefully]

[dial tone]

Ben This is big.

Sammy [slightly reluctant] If you or someone you know has had a sighting of *clears throat, Ben laughs* Jack in the Box Jesus please give us a call. Uh, 424-279-3858

Ben You’re on King Falls AM.

Deputy Troy Now I know what you’re thinking: how could the second coming of God’s only son happen and ol’ Troy here didn’t clue you in.

Ben Not what I was thinking.

Sammy What do you know Troy?

Deputy Troy Well I got a suspicious persons call out at ol’ Yack[sic] in the Box around 9. So, I hit the lights and cruised over to see what the fuss was about. And lo and behold, back by the dumpster with a mess of people looking on— there he was.

Sammy Now, are you really telling us that— [still reluctant] you saw, or, you believe you saw the son of God and the King of Kings bangin around outside the Jack In The Box?

Deputy Troy Well, he was a man. Somebody’s son, no doubt. Bearded. Good lookin’, if-if you’re into that sort of thing. He had a robe on—

Ben [cutting in]We can solve this right now. Was he white or was he black?

Deputy Troy He was more of a greenish color. Like a glow really.

Sammy The man had an aura around him.

Deputy Troy It was shinier than a damn Fukushima foxhound, fellas. Like, I felt a need to put on the old aviators, but I- I didn’t want to be cliché.

Sammy Alright, Troy. So, work with us here; you’re in the back of the Jack in the Box, there’s a uh, a Jesus-type guy—

Deputy Troy Just-a-ramblin’ on.

Ben Speaking in— tongues?

Deputy Troy Speaking in somethin. The last time I heard gibberish like that was comin’ from the back of my Chevy with Shell Snyder’s daughter.

Sammy So what happened next?

Deputy Troy Well a group of looky-loos had descended, as I said, and since it was only me, there was no perimeter set up yet. So I start ta approach this glowing Christ and somebody— Roy Higgins if you gotta know/— hollered out “It’s Jesus!” and the whole parking lot just went bonkers!

Ben Well, di-did you speak to the guy?

Deputy Troy Damn skippy. I told Roy that this was official police biz. And he shouldn’t be squawling around like a little baby.

Ben No, Jack in the Box Jesus.

Deputy Troy Oh, well no. I- I turned around and he was gone. Split right off into the woods, I suspect.

Sammy Did you follow him?

Deputy Troy Sammy. So you’re tellin me that you’d follow a 6-foot-tall and glowing perp into the woods??

Sammy [muttered] Point taken.

Ben So any other sightings?

Deputy Troy Well, not as of yet. But there were so many people they could’a had a revival in that parkin’ lot. So I’m guessin’ that’s how word spread so quickly. And without internet, too? That’s pretty damn impressive.

Sammy Is there an APB out or anything?

Deputy Troy For what, dilly-dallying around with a jumbo jack? He wasn’t doin nothin bad. Just acting a fool— Lord forgive me— where he shouldn’t’a been.

Ben And glowing.

Deputy Troy That’s right.

Sammy Well, please let us know if get any more info on this, Troy. We’d appreciate it.

Deputy Troy You bet. I’ll be sure to keep you boys and the listenin’ public informed. But if you should happen to stumble upon Jesus? Do not approach, bother or pester. You just call up Ol’ Deputy Troy.

[hangs up]

Ben …or your local church. [dial tone]

Sammy Deputy Troy, ladies and gents. Now we’re just going to take a quick break and hear from one of our new sponsors: Carl’s Candy!

Ben Yeah I don- I don’t think we should play this

Sammy What? Ads pay the bills remember?

Ben Folks, as a workaround with all the tech issues, uh, I went out and recorded a few spots of some of our sponsors- uh, new and old. Emphasis on Old, after this one.

Sammy Okay, so the audio is bad.

Ben *sucks in breath* You could say that.

Sammy This company’s paid up! They’re scheduled in one of your many notebooks. Let’s do this. We’ll be right back folks.

[slow, creepy xylophone music]

Carl [voice is soft and creepy, like you expect from a guy who offers kids candy from the back of a van] Do you know why they call it a blow pop? I sure do. And if you come on down to Creepy Carl’s Candy, I’ll fill ya up! I mean in. [whispering] It’ll be our little secret.- A sweet tooth is a terrible thing to waste. Come find a new sugar daddy to butter your fingers at Creepy Carl’s! Come in and grab a sack of Carl’s Boston baked beans while you’re at it. Oops, one fell in my pocket. Free if you can find it! *Ben groaning “oh no”* Every child’s welcome at Creepy Carl’s, big mouths, small mouths, white mouths and brown mouths. We’re equal opportunity! And just cause they shut down the ol’ brick and mortar doe’n’t mean you can’t buy it from my van. Be sure to ask your parents’ permission first, kids. Creepy Carl’s Candy, where the suckers don’t suck themselves. [Police sirens]

Deputy Troy [through megaphone] Carl, turn off your ignition. You are too close to the school zone.

Carl I gotta go! Catch ya later [tires squealing]

Ben [desperate, in bg] The mic!

[sirens fade out]

Sammy … Never again.

Ben I tried to tell you.

Sammy I know. Let’s never speak about this.

Ben [whispering] I need a shower.

Sammy *sigh* …Moving forward, we were just talking about a sighting that happened a few hours ago around the 9 o’clock hour, just off Main Street. It seems quite a few people believe that we may be experiencing a religious phenomenon. Perhaps the second coming of–

Ben [slightly gruff impression] “Don’t call it a comeback, I’ve been here for years!”[4]

Sammy *chuckles* Right, let’s go to the phone lines.

Ben [happily] That was good though right?

Sammy It was good. Good evening, you’re live on King Falls AM.

Reverend Hawthorne Ask and ye shall receive! King Falls-uh. It is the gooD Reverend Xavier “Right. With. Gaawwd-uh” Hawthorne.

Ben Reverend Hawthorne? Are you back in town?

Reverend Hawthorne [speaking over Ben] The One and Only, and we are turnin’ the wagons arounD as we speaK-uh. And we’re headin’ back to my flocK-uh. How’re y’all feelin’ tonighT, King Falls- I said How are you, Feelin’!

Sammy [softly] We’re feeling alright.

Reverend Hawthorne Praise GoD-uh! Hallelujah! Now a little birdie, uh-just chirp’n on my shoulder, told me there was a SighTing. A Vision. Dare I say it, eyeballs were laid on our Lord and Saviour at a burger joint in our fair city.

Sammy Yeah, about 9 o’clock here.

Reverend Hawthorne Could it Be-uh! that our 5-week-revival worked. Could it Be-uh! that our prayers have been brought forth the lamb of God-uh. Can I get an amen!

Ben Reverend Hawthorne we—

Reverend Hawthorne Amen! This miracle-uh, this sight from our God-uh, perched on a Mountain of Sanctity, says that he is ready to lead-uh, his most Highly Favored, Congregation bacK to the promised land. Gimme some organ, Deacon Reggie [organ music begins playing in bg]

Sammy [aside] Do you think Reggie has to wheel that thing around just in case?

Ben This is getting good.

Reverend Hawthorne Play it dirty, brother. We are going Home-uh. Take us back to Calvary, take us BACK-uh! … Samuel, Benjamin may I ask you gentlemen if you have a relationship-uh with the Author of the E-ternal Sal-vation; [organ goes silent] [softly] are ya saved?

Sammy I’m—

Reverend Hawthorne Then let me tell y’all, [organ starts again] because if you aren’t-uh, I’m coming back to town. One weekend only, the Xavier “Right with GoD-uh” Hawthorne Experience will be wheelin’ bacK into King Falls Fairgrounds this very night-uh. We are hoping to get One- On- One with the Risen Christ and start preparin’ for Kingdom Come. But just like old Xavier, you gotta come on down-uh so we can get you TurnT uP With GoD-uh. [click, dial tone]

Sammy Xavier? Hello?

Ben He’s, gone. Sammy.

Sammy Well, you heard it here first folks. Xavier Hawthorn’s Travelling Roadshow is coming back to town. Will Jack in the Box Jesus make his stage debut?

Ben [muttering] Tch- Jesus.

Sammy Literally.

Ben Do you think we could get an interview? Would it be Mr. Christ? Or-

Sammy Something tells me that there is something more to the story than what we’ve heard so far, Ben.

Ben Tsk. I get that, but this is King Falls, Sammy.

Sammy What a perfect place to make a return: a rinky-dink town with no internet.

Ben Line- [muttered] dammit, there’s only one line. Uh, you’re on with Sammy and Ben.

Archie Good evenin’ fellas!

[small dogs barking in bg]

Sammy Is thi-

Archie It’s Archie Simmons!

Ben He-ey Archie, how’s Princess Von Barktooth?

Archie Well, I do have news concernin’ the princess, and I just want to possibly recant some info from our previous call a few weeks back.

Sammy About the werewolves?

Archie Correct.

Sammy Wow. I mean, you sounded pretty convinced that you saw a werewolf.

Archie And now I’m saying that maybe I was misinformed.

Sammy I think you should probably tell Troy and the Sheriff’s Office, Archie.

Archie *giggles* You silly Sally, Troy’s on his way over now

Ben Why the change of heart, Archie?

Archie Well, new information has come to light boys, I mean with the Divine One making his triumphant, and let’s be honest, dramatic return to King Falls.

Sammy You’re talking about the glowing man at the Jack in the Box?

Archie [softly] Let’s be real here, it’s the J-Man, of course a heavenly carpenter would pick King Falls. So many projects to keep busy with.

Sammy [dryly] Uh-huh.

Archie Plus, with the princess and this new information, we have to believe this.

Ben You keep saying that, what’s going on with the princess Archie?

Archie She’s in a delicate condition.

Sammy Oh, of course. I mean she’s been through a lot.

Archie *giggles* No Sammy, I mean she’s with child. Ch-children. Puppies? There’s a bun in my $2400 oven boys!

Sammy Wait. She’s pregnant? From the werewolf attack?!

Archie [softly again] Well, that’s the thing. While I believed in my heart of hearts that the hillbilly beast from the trailer park had gotten to the princess, I think…

Ben What. What do you think Archie?

Archie I mean it was dark, I know it was a full moon but I was scared and recently awakened, sleep in my eyes etc. and so on.

Sammy You don’t think it was the werewolves.

Archie I’m thinking with this new evidence and the fact that I saw a long-haired, bearded man in a Biblical Act— Yeah I-I- I think- there’s a chance it could have been [whispering] the man upstairs.

Ben [stern] Upstairs from whom?

Archie Mankind! Come on Ben, get with the picture!

Sammy He’s saying that because there’s been a holy sighting tonight- which we should all be a little bit doubtful of- then maybe it wasn’t the werewolves, but the Alpha and the Omega.

Ben No! NO WA- That’s too much, Archie. You saw the werewolf. He looked you in the eye and howled at the moon.

Archie I don’t know what kind of weird things Jesus is into.

Ben No way. This is ludicrous.

Archie You just wait and see Ben! The princess may have lost her Westminster dreams, but it was all part of God’s plan.

Ben We’ve got to go Archie *laughs* you’re crossing a line that we cannot cross at King Falls AM.

Archie Judge Not, lest ye be judged boys. Kardashians[sic] 3:16 or a Psalm or something. I think Troy’s coming around the bend anyways boys, laters!

[click, dial tone]

Sammy You know? When I walk in the door every night I say to myself, “Nothing’s gonna surprise me tonight” And more times than not, I am just Dead Wrong.

Ben Let’s give the phone a rest for a moment, Sammy, the record player is just begging to be used.

Sammy *chuckles* Not a bad idea Ben.

[phone pings]

Ben What? *gasps* My phone! [several pings] OHH it’s back baby!

Sammy Me too! What’s going on?

[pinging continues]

Ben What’s up! Oh my God, I could literally kiss the apparition of Steve Jobs.

Sammy Hey, I’ve got a text here, Unknown Number.

Ben Okay, what does it say?

Sammy “I- I know why this happened. I know how to stop it. We need to talk“

Ben What?

Sammy No, that’s what the text said.

Ben You don’t think this has anything to do with… Thank You, Jesus.

[KFAM outro]

[CREDITS]

References:

[1] Pogs - Pogs, generically called milk caps, is a game that was popular among children during the early-mid 1990s. The name pog originates from POG, a brand of juice made from passionfruit, orange, and guava; the use of POG bottle caps to play the game preceded the game's commercialization.

[2] “It’s tearin’ up my heart when I’m with you” - Lyrics to the song “Tearin’ Up My Heart” by NSYNC, an American boy band from the mid-90s

[3] Jack in the Box - American fast food chain, primarily along the west coast and southern states.

[4] “Don’t call it a comeback, I’ve been here for years” - lyrics to the song “Mama Said Don’t Knock You Out” by LL COOL J (also came out in the 90s)

#king falls am #king falls #kfam #sammy stevens #ben arnold #kfam transcripts #kfam ep9 #cynthia higgenbaum #mayor grisham #troy krieghauser #archie simmons #jack in the box jesus #reverend hawthorne

[izzy-b-hands]

Sledgefu: A quiet, cozy night in with the cats. Maybe Snafu is feeling a little insecure bc Gene’s spending a lot of time with new friends at school? He feels a little left out bc Gene is always talking about them, but Gene doesn’t realize it until he really slows down and really listens to/looks at Snaf while they’re snugged up on the couch. If you want to 💞💞💞

Ooh yes I love it!! Thank you for sending this in!!!

Also, ended up putting together a playlist of what I listened to as I wrote this, so if folks are wanting some extra atmosphere as they read, here it is: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2z3p8nXomzQRkWjvY3PK5a?si=uK7XQngWTtOg7UlG5dUm_A 

Gold Still Glitters is below the cut!

He knew Eugene wouldn’t make dinner, he hadn’t for the past couple of weeks. Busy at the university library, studying away with a few classmates he’d gotten to know better as the semester had gone on. He’d even met a few of them now, Ted and Michael and a particularly intimidating man who, despite having the highest grades out of any of Eugene’s friends, insisted on going by his nickname of Flea. It was given to him in the Army, and was actually short for Flea-Brain, but Eugene had talked him into using just Flea. Good-hearted boy couldn’t bear to call a new friend something like that is what it was, and it made Snafu’s heart swell. That was his man, being so sweet!

But his heart hurt as he sat at the table alone, set for two on accident. It was simply his habit now, and he hadn’t even realized he’d done it until he sat down to the gumbo he’d made. 

Delilah hopped up onto the extra seat, her little nose delicately touching the bowl meant for Eugene, and that broke him. 

“This is stupid,” he scolded himself as the tears rolled. He wiped them away in between spoonfuls of his dinner. “Isn’t it, Delilah? I should be happy your papa is out there makin’ new friends. It’s a good thing.” 

She meowed softly, and he gave up on the food. That felt equally silly, putting it all away right away after he’d worked most of the day to make it, but his appetite was gone. 

Better was sitting in the bedroom with Delilah on his lap, the other cats scattered on the bed and Ack Ack with his soft nose batting at the hand Snafu let drop down to where the dog was sat on the floor. The radio played, and seemed desperate to drag him down even as he tried to clamber back up, as they rotated through love song after love song, mixed with more melancholy hits. If not for the cat sleeping on him, he’d have turned it off. 

Despite the whirring wheels of his mind, he found himself drifting off when the front door suddenly slammed. 

“Snaf? Sorry I’m so late!” 

Eugene’s voice echoed down the halls, but Snafu couldn’t bear to answer it. 

“Snafu? You here?” 

Delilah woke and looked at him, as if asking why he wasn’t responding, but he didn’t make a sound.

“Merriell?” 

He listened as Eugene’s footsteps came up the stairs, then to the bedroom. 

“Thought I heard music,” Eugene said as he opened the door. “What happened?” 

Snafu shook his head. He loved Eugene, but as wonderful as it was to see him, he wanted nothing more than to be alone until he got over his feelings, the stupid frustration that told him to call Eugene on it, on getting home so late and missing dinners, on only having time for homework and friends but little for his husband. But Eugene hadn’t done anything wrong, and it wouldn’t be fair to yell and shout and fuss at him for doing what every other student was doing, trying to learn and work and live and balance it all. 

“You’re crying,” Eugene said softly, and strode over to the bed, carefully moving the cats in way of his sitting next to Snafu. “Something happened. Tell me; I’m here to listen.” 

Delilah purred as he lifted her to his shoulder and buried his face in her fur, hoping to hide the next burst of tears. 

“Okay. I don’t know what this is about, and I want you to tell me, at some point. But if you aren’t ready yet, that’s okay. Tomorrow’s Saturday though, and I’ve got nowhere to be. No extra classwork, no study sessions, no extra hours at work. Thought maybe that would mean we could stay up a little together. Do some reading, or just sit and relax, whatever you might want. If you want,” Eugene said, gentle as anything, and it made the tears fall even harder. 

“I gotta borrow your dad, Delilah,” Eugene continued as Snafu set her down beside him, and she meowed at the loss of lap. “Y’all come on down and join us if you want, okay?” 

A few meows and a tiny woof from Ack Ack answered him as he turned off the radio, then led Snafu downstairs, and Snafu knew they’d probably stay put. It was late now, nearly eleven at night, and the pets had their routine they didn’t like to deviate from, especially for bed time. It would also mean they wouldn’t get their bed back for the night as the cats would take it over, but there was always the guest bedroom. 

“How was your day?” Eugene practically chirped, as cheerful as the birds he loved watching, though the bags under his eyes told a different story, or at least screamed a need for a decent night of sleep. 

“Okay.” 

“Just okay? You get a full day off of work and it’s just okay?” 

Snafu shrugged. “Made gumbo. Spent most of the day in the kitchen, ‘cept for headin’ out to the market for a few things.” 

Eugene stopped and stared at him as they reached the living room. “That’s all?” 

“I don’t know,” Snafu snapped in spite of himself. “I cooked, and I tried to clean some while the supper was simmering, and the damn back door knob was loose again so I fixed that, and I kept the cats and dog in their food and cuddles for the day, and cleaned up the litter boxes and Ack Ack’s corner of the backyard, and-” 

He sighed, exasperated. “I kept busy. I don’t know what you want me to say. I know I’m not nearly as busy as you get, but I tried to make my day off something useful.” 

Eugene took a deep breath, and Snafu braced himself. Eugene didn’t deserve that yelling, but he hadn’t been able to hold back, and he’d deserve whatever Eugene tossed back at him. 

Instead, Eugene took his hand and kissed it. “I meant, did you do anything for you? Read something you like, listen to a good record? Hell, just take a nap?” 

“Oh,” Snafu said, and shrugged. “No. I didn’t do any of that.” 

“Sounds like we got stuff to do tomorrow then, to catch you up on some relaxin’,” Eugene smiled. “Come on. Come lay on the couch and be lazy with me.” 

“It’s gonna be midnight before we know it,” Snafu said. “Not that I don’t want to, but you need to sleep-” 

“There some law against fallin’ asleep on the couch with my man?” 

Snafu grinned. “No, there isn’t.” 

“Well then, I say we’ve got a reservation over here,” Eugene tugged gently on his hand, pulling him till they both fell back on the couch together, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I missed you today.” 

The lump in his throat was back again, the tears threatening to fall again, his heart hurting again as they adjusted to lay more comfortably on the couch, and he tried to respond without his voice breaking. “Missed you too.” 

“You gonna talk to me now?” Eugene murmured as they snuggled close. “C’mon. You know I’m not gonna let you sit all melancholy like y’are right now. Out with it.” 

“…I shouldn’t be upset by it. Because it’s a good thing,” Snafu sighed. 

“Okay, we’re getting somewhere!” Eugene’s voice rumbled in his chest, pressed as close as they were, his back to Eugene’s chest, Eugene’s arm draped over him. “But maybe this good thing isn’t good for you?” 

“It’s good for someone I love, so it should be good for me too,” Snafu replied. “Because I love them, and I want good things for them.” 

“Well that’s…good,” Eugene said, then chuckled. “But that doesn’t mean whatever this is couldn’t still upset you somehow. Can’t help how things make you feel, sometimes.” 

“I know. But…” 

“You can tell me what it is, you know that,” Eugene whispered. 

“Alright. I…it’s been a little difficult. Without you home at night. Eatin’ dinners alone, goin’ to bed alone even some nights. And then when you do come home-” 

Snafu cut himself off with a sigh and resisted the urge to turn and bury his face into Eugene’s chest, and not say anymore. “When you do, as much as I love hearing about your new friends, and I do, I really do, I swear it, sometimes it feels like that’s all we talk about, and then it’ll be so late it’s already time for bed and then the sun rises and we do it all over again and I miss you.” 

He turned then, and focused on the beat of Eugene’s heart near his ear as he continued. “I’m proud of you in a way I can’t even put words to, because it just overwhelms me, you goin’ back to school and all. And I’m happy you’ve made friends, because you should! It’s good. But sometimes I miss that little bit of extra time we had, for just us. Even though I know that we’ll still find that time again, in one way or another, because things can’t stay the same forever, but gold still glitters even after you melt it down and make it into something new.” 

Eugene was silent, and Snafu fought the urge to break away from him and run upstairs, to avoid the storm that his words were surely going to bring. Granted, Eugene had never been that way with him, but other lovers had in the past, and he never wanted to make Eugene that sort of upset, but if anything would…perhaps this would.

“God, Flea was right. I always tell him how mad I am that he’s the smartest asshole outta all of us in the classroom, and now I gotta tell him he was right again, and he’s smartest about things like this too.” 

Snafu moved his face out of Eugene’s chest. “Things like this?” 

“He told me tonight, that he could tell last time we were all hangin’ out together that you seemed like you felt left out, and that he couldn’t believe that the man I described to them could be the same as the quiet and sad-lookin’ man I’d brought with me that day. And I figured maybe you were just tired or had a rough day at work and I didn’t ask…and I should have asked. I’m sorry, Snaf.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Snafu said as he carefully moved Eugene’s arm and sat up. “I’m bein’ a damn fool over this. I’m a grown man, actin’ like a child because I’m not gettin’ enough attention.” 

“No,” Eugene protested softly, and sat up so he was right beside him, their thighs touching and Eugene’s hand reaching for his. “You’re my husband, and you love me, and so you’ve been missin’ me and I didn’t notice, and that’s not right. I been watchin’ you go about your night after I get home, but I wasn’t paying any attention, and I should have been.” 

“I gotta do the same for you,” Snafu said.

“You have been! Who else would listen to me blabber on and complain about school, talk for hours about the dumb shit those boys at school tell me? You’ve been lookin’ right at me, keepin’ your eyes trained on me to keep me feeling happy and loved, and I looked back but I looked right through you,” Eugene replied. “No more of that. I promise.” 

The tears slipped down his face yet again before he could stop them, and he could hear Eugene’s soft sound of confusion as he closed his eyes and chuckled. 

“Happy tears, I promise. I’ve never had anyone I was with react like this. I was waitin’ for yellin’ and carryin’ on, so this is,” Snafu shook his head and laughed. “This is so reassuring and wonderful and I…I just love you so damn much.” 

Eugene’s arms wrapped around him, and held him tight. “I love you too, and I’m gonna show you just how much more often. Starting tonight.” 

“I think you did just now,” Snafu said. “But if you’ve got something else in mind, you know I don’t often say no to you.” 

“We’re gonna have to kick the cats off the bed for it,” Eugene smiled and kissed him softly.

“You mean pick them up and carry them into the guest room, and drag Ack Ack’s bed in there since he likes sleepin’ with ‘em so much?” Snafu asked against Eugene’s lips before kissing him back, letting his hand move to wrap around Eugene’s neck, a thumb caressing his cheek. 

“Exactly,” Eugene said as they parted lips, foreheads still touching. “You ready for bed?” 

“I am. Now that you’re here with me,” Snafu sighed, and held Eugene’s hand tight as they stood and headed for the stairs. He couldn’t believe he’d ever gotten so lucky, that the universe had given him so sweet a man. 

But he was so happy to have him, to be his forever, and to know now more than ever, that Eugene was his always as well.

#text post #ask box things #Sledgefu #this was so much fun to write!! my dear sweet boys #thank you again for sending this in!! #xmxisxforxmaybe #LeeH writes

[desiraypark]

Let’s take a tour...

A Tour of Clyde and Sherri’s Home Close your eyes and imagine. Well, don’t close your eyes because you have to read this.

Clyde bought the cozy two-bedroom house after the last great Cauliflower scheme. Sherri moved in a few weeks before their wedding. I imagine the exterior looking something like this...

LIVING ROOM

Alright. Now, we’re in the livin’ room. Very simple: Cream walls, butterscotch oak floorin’. Navy blue sofa against the wall, matchin’ recliner beside it. Dark wood coffee table. Flat screen TV mounted on the wall. Sherri’s additions: She picked out the table under the TV. Its color matches the coffee table almost perfectly. She put framed photos on top of it (we’ll talk about those photos in a few). At one point, she’d bought a coral rug to put up under the coffee table. Right now, she’s got a white vase in the middle of the table with some artificial peonies up in it. 

Oh, she also bought a shoe rack that’s by the front door (please use that next time). And a floor lamp. Just a regular ol’ floor lamp with a silver body and white shade. Before they got engaged, Sherri strongly recommended that Clyde get some real blinds and toss those temporary shades (he did). KITCHEN/DINING  Alright, now we’re gonna walk through the living room and into the kitchen and dining area. As you can see, the kitchen has maintained a...”classic” look—the wood panelin’, wooden cupboards and shelves.This yellowed linoleum that needs to come on up. The oven and refrigerator are both black--kinda new. Sherri’s mom once asked her when those two would get the kitchen remodeled, It reminded Clyde of his Grandma and PawPaw’s kitchen. The previous owners didn’t make any changes to it, so neither would Clyde.  Now--step on inside, y’all, I don’t bite--now, as you can see, when you walk all the way into the kitchen, the fridge is pushed to the wall on your right, sitting beside a half-counter that connects to the oven. You see the counter wrapping all the way around to the door--giving Clyde and Sherri some good cookin’ space. They do other things on this counter, but that ain’t my business to tell. They love lookin’ out this window over the sink to look at the birds and butterflies in the backyard. Of course, that door leads to the back yard, but this door is right here to my right is the pantry slash laundry room.  Sherri’s additions: So, Sherri got her grandma to make these cute lil’ embroidered curtains for the window and the door. Sherri keeps sayin’ that she’s gonna learn how to sew, but that ain’t girl ain’t gonna start no time soon. Anyway, she just bought this big blender--she said it’s for smoothies, but she really wants Clyde to make her some frozen margaritas this summer. She also bought them a 12-piece Pyrex set. Now, I don’t like to stereotype men, but both me and Sherri were shocked that Clyde had so much cookware, and silverware, and a good set of dishes. I mean, the man had all kinds of nice pots and pans--even a cast iron skillet! But the thing is, the stuff was barely used. Of course, he’s always busy at Duck Tape, but one day, he told Sherri that he’d bought it all during his “Food Network phase”. Okay, to your left is their dining table. Nothin’ fancy. Let’s move right along... MASTER BEDROOM So, if y’all turn around and step outside of the kitchen and look to your left--that door right there leads to Clyde and Sherri’s bedroom. It has the same design as the living room: cream walls, butterscotch flooring. Y’all follow me inside. So, as you can see, the bedroom set is a dark wood, I guess that’s ebony or somethin’. It came with a queen-size sleigh bed, a vertical dresser, and a nightstand. Clyde could have gotten a horizontal dresser with the mirror attached to it, but he didn’t think he’d need it. He just put a floor length mirror on the back of the door. Clyde also keeps sayin’ that he wants a king-size one day--he’s a big man, you know? But he didn’t wanna overcrowd the room. To your left is the closet, where Clyde and Sherri keep their shoes; their coats; their nice clothes--you know, dresses, suits, and all that. Now, as we look past the closet, our eyes will land on the nightstand, and beside that, the bed. Clyde put the bed there so he could look up at the sunshine in the morning. Then, on the other side of the bed is the horizontal dresser with its attached mirror. Then, directly to your right you’ll see a vertical dresser. That’s a case for Clyde’s prosthetic arm on top of it. Sherri’s additions: Sherri hasn’t added much to the bedroom. Of course, she was definitely gonna need some space for her clothes, so she and Clyde went on and picked out a horizontal dresser. Sherri kinda hates it, though--because it doesn’t match the rest of the set. Clyde bought the landscape painting over his dresser. But other than that, Sherri’s only additions are her personal items, a few candles, and some extra bedding sets that she keeps in the linen closet. BATHROOM Okay, now let’s step out of the master bedroom and walk across the living room and into that tiny, little hallway. In front of us is the linen closet. To your right is another room and to your left is the bathroom. Let’s step into the bathroom, it’ll be quick. Matter of fact, don’t even step inside--just peek in. The wall is a pale yellow, the floor white tile. The sink is to your left. That’s a medicine chest on top of it--I don’t think they put those in too many new houses, these days. Of course, that’s the toilet beside the sink, and beside the toilet is the tub. That’s Clyde’s shower curtain. The mother duck leading her ducklings across a pond. He picked out these green rugs, too. Sherri’s additions: Again, all Sherri really bought to the bathroom are her personal items...and her desire to set the shower curtain on fire.  SPARE ROOM

*closes bathroom door* Now, let’s turn around. We have what’s my favorite room in Clyde and Sherri’s home. The “spare” room. I love it and they love it because it’s a space they built together. When Clyde and Sherri were dating, it was an empty room, minus a few boxes and a random lamp with a bird on it. 

Come in, come in.  So, when they were engaged, Sherri helped him sort through his boxes. Just a few boxes--three or four, I suppose. They had books; photos; stuff from his time in the military, and some of his mom’s belongings--some jewelry and a few little accessories. Clyde told Sherri that he just never got around to unpacking the boxes, but she knew that he really meant, “I wasn’t ready to unpack these boxes”. So, she didn’t push him with this one. Instead, they just put a lot of thought into what they’d turn the room into--then the stuff in the boxes would find their places.  So, finally, they decided they just turn this into an “unwind” room. Not an entertainment room, but a place to just relax, or take a nap. But as you can see, they kept the furnishing minimal--because who knows? The unwind room might have to be transformed into the Lil’ Shlyde or the lil’ Clerri room, one day. Don’t tell them I came up with those names, they’re liable to take me serious. So, I know, the first thing y’all probably noticed was the console record player right in front of you. Somethin’ about the scritch and scratch of some vinyl just puts you in a different kind of mood, don’t you think? Up against this back wall is a modular sectional. Clyde and Sherri take many a nap on this thing. Doesn’t it look cozy? I wonder what they’ll do with it if they move out...

But anyway, to your left--is a modular bookcase that houses the lovebirds’ combined book collections. Over here, under the window is a mini fridge and a tub of snacks. The unwind room turns into the “PMS” and “eat your feelings out” room, real quick! Okay, that wasn’t my business to tell.  I’d show you the backyard, but it isn’t much. It’s fenced in--that I will mention. But other than that, the yard is patchy. They have a couple of reclining lawn chairs. They don’t have a grill because Jimmy is the designated Logan Grill King, so why bother? But it’s a pretty empty backyard--nothin’ special.

So, that brings me to the end of this tour. I hope y’all enjoyed it. Please pay Clyde and Sherri a visit. They’re a lovely couple. Ask Clyde to fix you up a drink he calls the “Sherri”. I don’t know what’s in it, but I know that thang had me in their living room doin’ The Wobble one night. The Wobble wasn’t even playin’ and I was doin’ it by myself. Needless to say, he doesn’t make it for me anymore.  But anyway. Bye y’all!

#the world of clyde x sherri

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 025 [Top Two]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,581

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〈“You should see me in a crown. Your silence is my favorite sound. Watch me make ’em bow, one by one.” Billie Eilish, “You Should See Me In A Crown”〉

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“Umm… why the heck are you all here?” Ochaco cried out, distress clear in her voice. Dozens of students were crowding around the outside of our classroom, whispering and taking pictures of us. What, are we a fucking exhibit at the zoo now?

“Do you students have some sort of business with our class?” Iida questioned.

“Why are you blocking our doorway? I won’t let you take us hostage!” Mineta cried out. As if that short idiot could do anything.

“They’re scouting out the competition, idiots.” Bakugo headed for the door and I followed, slinging the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “We’re the class that survived a real villain attack. They wanna see us with their own eyes.” He stopped at the door, narrowed eyes scanning the students. “At least now you know what a future pro looks like. Now, move it extras!”

I chuckled. Typical Bakugo. To think that one word changed our relationship. I wonder, would we be friends if I hadn’t learned who he was?

“You can’t just walk around calling people extras just because you don’t know who they are!” Iida complained, waving his hand frantically.

I raised a brow at him. “The fuck you talking about, man? He calls everyone extras, even the fuckers he does know.”

“So this is class 1-A?” A boy with a mop of purple hair pushed his way to the front of the group, a black-haired boy close behind. This kid over here lookin’ like Doc Brown’s reject son. “I heard you guys were impressive, but you just sound like an ass. Is everyone in the hero course delusional or just you?”

“Sick burn, bro.” I snickered.

“Shut up, bitch!”

“How sad to come here to find a bunch of ego-maniacs.” The boy rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s tragique.” The black-haired boy nodded.

“I wanted to be in the hero course, but like many others here, I was forced to choose a different track. Such is life. I didn’t cut it the first time around, but I have another chance. If any of us do well in the sports festival, the teachers can decide to transfer us to the hero course. And they’ll have to transfer people out to make room.”

Several people grew nervous behind us, Izuku included. While I don’t doubt the validity of his statement, I think the only people at real risk of being yanked from class 1-A is Invisigirl and the perverted Grape. I can’t speak for class 1-B, though, not that that has anything to do with us.

“‘Scouting the competition’?” Purple continued. “Maybe some of my peers are, but I’m here to let you know that if you don’t bring your very best, I’ll steal your spot right from under you. Consider this a declaration of war.”

“Heh~ but we‘re the egomaniacs, right?” I scoffed, meeting his dull purple eyes. “Ever heard of the expression, ‘The pot calling the kettle black’? Besides, if you weren’t good enough to make it the first time, what makes you think you can replace people that were good enough?”

His eyes narrowed.

The black-haired boy beside him scoffed. “You guys are whaq with a q.”

“‘Whack’ isn’t spelled with a fucking q, you twat.” I responded.

“It’s reserved for special cases like you!”

“Are you stupid?”

“I’m lucid sometimes.”

“Hey, you!!” A silver-haired boy joined the fray, pushing and shoving his way through the crowd as he screamed at the top of his lungs. “I’m from class 1-B next door to you! We heard you fought some villains and I came to see if that was true! You’re just a bunch of brats who think you’re better than us!!”

“Goddamn. And I thought you were loud, Bakuhoe.” I scowled, rubbing my temple. I could feel a headache starting to form from the sheer volume of his voice.

“Talk all you want, it’ll just be more embarrassing when you’re K.O’d!!”

Bakugo moved forward.

“Don’t you ignore me!!”

“Dude, where are you going?” Kirishima rushed forward. “You gotta say something! It’s your fault they’re all hating on us, Bakugo! You, too, Winchester!”

“The fuck’d I do?” I muttered.

“These people don’t matter,” Bakugo responded, simply.

“Huh?”

“The only thing that’s important is that I beat them. Let’s go, Tiger.”

Kirishima sent me a pleading look and I shrugged. “You got what you wanted, Kiri. He said somethin’.” I followed the blonde as he moved through the crowd, the students jumping away from his glaring red eyes.

“Hey!! I’m coming for you!!”

“Hopefully quieter next time,” I muttered, folding my hands behind my head. “I’m hungry, let’s go get tacos.”

“Fuck no. We’re getting ramen.” He glanced at me. “And then we’re going to train.”

I scowled. “You always go to that place that serves only spicy ramen. I hate it.”

“Your quirk is fire but you can’t even handle spicy food. Pathetic.”

“My quirk ain’t about sweatin’, fool. And I never agreed to train with you, either.”

“Too fuckin’ bad,” He suddenly stopped, shoving his finger in my face. “Me and you are gonna destroy all of those damn losers and then I’m gonna thoroughly beat your ass in the final, you got that?!”

I sweatdropped, looking away. “That sounds like a lot of work, man.”

“Suck it up, weakling!”

Geez, once this brat sets his mind on something, there’s no stopping him. This is gonna be a serious pain in my ass.

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“I’m home,” I muttered, pushing the door open and kicking my sneakers off before heading to the kitchen. “What the fuck are you doin’, bro?”

Aizawa grunted in annoyance. Both of his thickly bandaged arms were out of their sling, a cup of instant noodles dangling precariously between them. “You’re late,”

I took the cup from his arms, holding up the plastic bag in my other hand. “Sorry. Bakugo’s a real bitch when it comes to training. And everything else in general.”

He fell into the chair at the kitchen table. “You’re training with him?”

I pulled two plates from the cabinet, dividing the box of chicken bites between them before adding a spoonful of mac-n-cheese, green beans, and mashed potatoes with gravy. I set both plates on the table before getting a Dr. Pepper for myself and some juice for him. “I didn’t want to, but he wouldn’t stop bitching about it and then he smacked me when I wasn’t looking, so I humored him. Then I actually got into it and lost track of time.” I plopped down beside him.

Due to his excessive injuries, Aizawa needed someone to help him out at home and since I wasn’t able to protect him from the bird brain fucker, I told Toshi that I’d be staying with Zawa ’til he recovers. The man in question certainly wasn’t happy about needing to be helped, especially not by me, but the alternative was the loud-mouth Present Mic, so he settled.

He was struggling to pick up the fork so I grabbed it for him, holding it up so his finger could wrap around the metal. “I’m surprised he’s gotten so close to you. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, though.”

“Probably not, but at least I’m finally starting to socialize, right?”

He stared at me blankly.

“Tough crowd,”

“What are your plans for the sports festival?”

“Care to be more specific?”

“Are you going to give it your all? You haven’t shown much interest in going pro.”

I leaned back in my chair, stirring my mashed potatoes with the fork. “Dunno. I’ve been thinking about it… everyone is so hyped for the sports festival, so I feel like I should match that by giving it my all, you know? At the same time… everyone else has a clear goal, a dream to become a pro and this is their big chance to get noticed. Well, one of ’em, anyway. Kinda feels like I shouldn’t take that away from them. Plus…”

“You’re scared,” he commented, dryly.

I scowled, propping my chin in my palm. “I ain’t scared, I’m worried, there’s a difference. I don’t wanna hurt anyone, especially if this is gonna be like a one-on-one battle royale or whatever. Bakugo has this shit idea in his head that the two of us are gonna be the top two – with him taking first, of course. I kinda wanna beat him just to spite him, but that’ll cause me a bigger headache in the future. He’s pretty damn strong, too.”

“You don’t think you can beat him?” He stabbed a piece of chicken, bringing it to his mouth.

I shrugged. “Won’t know that unless we fight. I feel like my raw power is better than his, but I rely on instinct alone, while he relies on instinct and intelligence. I’d rather not fight him if I can avoid it, it’ll be too much of a pain in the – Ow, that fucking hurt, you bitch!” I rubbed the back of my hand which he had just stabbed with his fork.

“Stop being lazy, Jen. Whether you plan to go pro or not, as a student of U.A. you represent the school through your actions.”

“Isn’t that even more reason to air on the side of caution?” I scowled. “Think about how shit it would be if I lost control during the sports fest. Talk about an image ruiner.”

“Are you planning on killing anyone?”

“The fuck kinda question is that? Of course not.” I paused. “Though, I wouldn’t be above killing Mineta, not even gonna lie. If I have to fight him, I’mma destroy him.”

He ignored my last comment. “Then you should be fine.” His eyes met mine and his gaze softened. “Just do your best and stop stressing so much.”

“Hey, Zawa?”

“Hmm?”

I chewed on my lip, thoughtfully. Should I tell him about that voice I heard back at the USJ? No matter what kinda world you live in, hearing voices ain’t a good thing, but… it was probably just a hallucination brought on from the extreme stress. I don’t wanna worry him or bug him, especially when he’s still healing. I smiled softly, “You always act tough but you’re just a big ole softy, ain’t ya – ow, fuck, Aizawa!”

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The day of the sports festival had finally arrived and the stadium was packed with people. Various food stalls had been set up outside, including a glorious taco stand. Me and the rest of class 1-A had been ordered to change into our gym uniforms and hang out in the waiting room until we were called out, but I had woken up late and missed breakfast. Plus, tacos.

While the others nervously and excitedly chatted with one another about the sports fest, I slipped out of the room and out to the front where the food stalls were located. My mouth started to water at all the glorious smells teasing my nose, my stomach growling and whining at me. I stopped behind a woman with a small child, trying not to tap my foot impatiently as she waited on her food. Finally, she stepped away and I moved forward.

The man at the stall was older, maybe late fifties or early sixties, with a mess of gray hair. A thin, white bandana had been wrapped around his forehead, the name ‘Shimatsu Tacos!’ written in bold red lettering with a taco between the two words.

He smiled kindly, wrinkles appearing around his mouth. “What can I get for you?”

“Five soft shell tacos, please.” I dug around in my pocket for the money I had shoved there after changing out of my uniform.

“Coming right up!” He hummed as he started to cook the beef and toast the shells.

“Hey, you!” An arm slung around my shoulder and I scowled at the contact, slapping my palm against the woman’s face and shoving her away from me. Her hand grabbed my shoulder, refusing to let go. “Hey, what are you doing?!”

“Don’t fucking touch me, rude ass.” I stomped my foot down on hers and she finally let go.

“Ow, that hurt, you brat!” Her purple eyes narrowed at me as she clutched her foot, blonde hair bouncing as she hopped on the other foot.

“Don’t fucking touch people without their permission.” I folded my arms over my chest.

“Listen here, you little -”

“Mt. Lady!” A man grabbed her wrist before she could grab me. He looks like… a leafless tree in a tight blue one-piece. ‘Kay, then. “You can’t attack a student, what are you thinking?”

“This brat attacked me.” She huffed.

I rolled my eyes. “I stomped on your foot because you grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. Get over it.”

“See! She admitted it!” She pointed an accusing finger at me. Bitch, are you five?

“You shouldn’t have grabbed her,” Woodsman scolded before turning to me, softening his voice. “And you shouldn’t attack people.”

“Che,” I looked away from him, turning back to the old man as he handed me my food. Each taco was wrapped separately and all of them were placed in a small, cardboard container.

“Here you are, enjoy!”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Not a thing!” He grinned, giving me a thumbs up. “Just do your best in the sports festival!”

I hummed as something behind him caught my eye. “Hey, can I have that?”

His eyes followed mine and he seemed to realize what I was planning to do. He laughed loudly, taking it down from the peg it hung on and handing it over to me. “Good luck, kid!”

“Thanks,” I sent him a smile before turning toward the stadium.

“Wait a minute! I’m not done with you!” The woman grabbed my shoulder. “You need to learn some respect, kid!”

I scoffed, slapping her hand away. “And you need to learn to keep your hands to your fuckin’ self. Respect is earned, it ain’t given freely, and you ain’t done shit to earn my respect so fuck off, old lady.”

“O-Old?!”

Hmm, how annoying. I weaved my way through the crowd of people, munching on one of the tacos as I re-entered the stadium. I pushed open the door to our waiting room and stopped short as the tense atmosphere.

“- Of course you’re better than me.” Izuku was saying as he faced Todoroki. “In fact, you probably have way more potential than anyone in the hero course. That’s why you got in so easily.”

Fucking rude, you little shit.

“Midoriya, maybe you’re being a little hard on yourself. And us…” Kirishima spoke up, holding his hands up. He was clearly trying to defuse the situation.

“No, he’s right, guys! All the other courses… they’re coming for us with everything they’ve got. We’re all gonna have to fight to stand out. And I’ll be aiming for the top, too!”

“Fine,” Todoroki responded, his voice ice cold.

“Sheesh, you guys are a couple of edgelords, ain’t ya?” I commented before taking another bite of the taco.

“Winchester! Where did you disappear to?” Kiri asked, his eyes snapping to the food in my hand. “Hey, where did you get that food? And where’s mine?”

“Food stand,” I answered. “If I share with you, I’d have to share with the whole class and I ain’t about that life. Sorry, bro.”

He sweatdropped.

“Um, Jen-san?”

“What, Izuku?”

“…why are you wearing a bandana around your forehead that says ‘Shimatsu Tacos’?”

“Don’t question my fashion choices, you little shit.”

“R-Right…”

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[orangeoctopi7]

Bonding Time

Hey y’all, it’s the latest chapter of the Spider-Stan AU! Consider it a late Christmas present. Or... wait... is it still Hanukkah? Have a happy Hanukkah present then!

Breakfast the morning after McGucket left was awkward, to say the least. The only sound was the steady crunch of chewing cold cereal punctuated by the occasional scrape of a spoon. Stan pretended to try and solve the maze on the back of the box of Penta-Grahms, even though it was easy enough for a five-year-old. Ford stared so intently into his bowl it appeared as though he was trying to use it as a crystal ball.

Eventually they both finished eating, and Stan finally broke the silence.

“So, what kinda tests are we runnin’ today?”

“Well…” Stanford trailed off, remembering his argument with Fiddleford the day before. Maybe he could be a little more honest with his brother. “Truthfully, we’ve run about all the physical tests I can think of, so far. We’ve, uh, we’ve learned a lot about how the mutation has affected you and your physical capabilities. And your health.”

Stan’s face fell. “Oh… soooooo… no more tests... does that mean… you want me to go?”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Ford said hurriedly.

“Well, I mean, I don’t wanna stay if you don’t want me to.”

“Who ever said I didn’t want you to stay?”

“No one, I just don’t wanna seem like I’m leachin’ off you.”

“Nonsense!” Ford corrected him. The beginnings of a hopeful smile formed on Stan’s lips. “There’s still plenty more we can learn from you!”

“Oh.” Stan’s almost-smile changed to an annoyed frown before his brother even noticed it.

“I’ve got some inventions I was working on before another project came along and took up most of my time, but you’d be perfect to test them!”

“As long as we don’t have to take any more blood samples, sounds good to me.”

And so Stan followed his brother into a small storage room, with just a few small windows, where several odd objects were sitting around, collecting dust. It all looked like junk to Stan, but obviously Ford knew what it all was. He picked out a large pair of goggles, a pair of weird gauntlets, and what looked suspiciously like spandex, before leaving the room and heading outside.

Ford sat down on the porch steps and tried on the goggles. They were comically large, even fitting over those huge nerd glasses, and made him look even more like a great horned owl. The eye pieces slanted at an angle, reminding Stan of an oni print he’d seen in a Japanese gift shop back in Portland. 

After just a couple of seconds, Ford pulled them off, blinking rapidly and massaging his eyes. “They seem to be working, but I can’t wear them for long without getting a horrible headache.”

“What’re they supposed to do?”

“They’re light filtration goggles, meant to help see beyond the visible light spectrum. But they take in more light at once than the human eye can typically handle. I was hoping, with your improved senses, you might be able to make use of it. Either that, or it’ll just give you a headache faster.”

“Gee, thanks.” Stan rolled his eyes, but took the goggles anyways. “Whoa!” He exclaimed when he put them on. The world seemed brighter and more colorful with the goggles on, like someone had fiddled with the color balance on the TV.

“Is it giving you a headache already?” Ford asked with a touch of concern.

“No, my head’s fine. But wow, this… this doesn’t look real. It feels more like I’m lookin’ at some fancy paintin’ of the woods than a real forest.” Stan continued to look around when he noticed a strange trail of purple that definitely hadn’t been there before, leading into the forest. As he focused on where the purple line disappeared into the trees, the goggles whirred, and suddenly his vision zoomed in on the spot. “Whoa!” he repeated.

“The goggles can read the muscle movements in and around your eyes to magnify when you’re looking at something in the distance.” Ford explained.

“Yeah yeah, I noticed that part.” Stan stood and walked towards the trail, “But I’m seein’ some weird purple stuff here.”

“Really?” Ford followed him and crouched down, low to the ground, to get a better look at what his brother was staring at. “Right here?” He pointed to a tiny gnome footprint in the dirt.

“Yeah, except it’s a whole line of little purple streaks like that, leading into the woods…” Stan followed the line back towards the cabin and saw it snake around the corner “...and into your front yard.”

Ford’s eyes widened “That’s the trail the gnomes take to my garbage can! You’re telling me you can see it as a different color?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda hazy purple.”

A triumphant grin spread across Ford’s face. “This is incredible! I originally invented these to enable me to visualize residual weirdness, but whenever I tried them on myself, the visual input was too much, and I couldn’t make out anything through the sensory overload! But it actually works!” He grabbed Stan by the shoulders and turned him back towards the woods. “Tell me, do you see anything else?”

“Uhhh…” He scanned the woods, looking for any more colors that looked out of place. “There’s a tree over that way that looks… I dunno, too green? That one with the really thick trunk, near the edge of the clearing.”

Ford followed his brother’s gaze as best he could, squinting at the trees in the vicinity and finding the thick trunk in question. His eyes widened when he got a good look at it, and he suddenly rushed back into the house. Stan didn’t even have time to ask what his brother was doing when the researcher reappeared on the porch, holding a megaphone in one hand. 

“Steve, I told you to stay away from the cars in this clearing! If you take one more step towards my brother’s car, I will get the chainsaw!”

Stan was beginning to think his brother had finally made the leap from eccentric to just plain crazy when the tree trunk, which had to be a few yards around, was lifted out of the ground. Stan pulled the goggles off, sure they were malfunctioning. His jaw dropped in disbelief as he realized it wasn’t a tree at all, but the foot of some bark-skinned giant. A flock of startled birds rose out of the woods and the ground shook as the giant stomped away, it’s full form hidden by the giant redwoods which swayed as it moved past.

“Sorry about that.” Ford turned to him and put down the megaphone. “Steve seems to have some kind of problem with cars. He wrecked mine before this cabin was even finished, and I’ve had to chase him off from Fiddleford’s truck a few times. You might want to park a little closer to the house, he’ll only reach so far out into the clearing.”

Stan just stared at his brother, mouth agape.

“Steve?” He finally groaned incredulously.

“He acts like a Steve!” Ford said defensively.

***

After Stan moved his car so close to the house you couldn’t even open the passenger-side doors, they moved on to the next invention Ford wanted to test. The two of them climbed a ladder in the library to the roof, then scaled the steep wooden shingles to the highest peak. 

It was an easy climb for Stan, with his ability to stick to walls, but he was impressed by how at-ease Ford seemed up here with just his boots and his sense of balance.

Ford helped Stan put on a pair of strange gauntlets, made of a bulky, segmented wrist strap and a sort of button on a stick that rested just above Stan's palm.

“So, you hold down the paddle here,” Ford pointed to the button thingy that extended over Stan’s palm from the gauntlet thingy around his wrist. “to release the pressurized fluid. The stream will solidify into a sticky fiber ten times stronger and lighter than a steel cable. It’s the same basic principle they use to make nylon, but with an even more robust substance. You just swing it out towards whatever surface you want to use as an anchor, then once it’s stuck, jump up and swing forward. Double-tap to release the fiber, and repeat. When the fluid runs out, hold down on the cartridge,” He pointed to where the cartridge slotted into the wrist gauntlet thingy, “And it’ll pop out. Then turn the wrist strap to the next compartment with a new cartridge.”

“Uh, ok…” Stan nodded, looking over the strange device. He thought he understood what to do. 

He took aim at a sturdy looking tree that towered above their perch on the roof of Ford’s cabin. A stream of white goo shot out, quickly weaving itself into a chord of spider silk as it sailed through the air and finally found its target. Stan gave the chord an experimental tug, making sure it was secured to the branch. It held firm.

“Now, the real trick it to pick out a second anchor, take aim with the second web-shooter, and secure a second line while swinging from the first line.” Ford continued.

“Are you even sure the first line will hold me?” Stan asked nervously. He’d mostly gotten over his fear of heights when he gained the ability to stick to walls, but the woods didn’t leave him a lot of options to catch his fall.

“Absolutely. I already tested it out when I first developed this technology.” Ford assured his brother. “I just never got past the first swing because… well, I completely tore my arm out of its socket.”

Stan stared at his brother incredulously. “It’s a good thing I found you before you killed yourself.”

“I was fine! I was wearing an amulet that grants the wearer telekinetic powers, so I caught myself before I hit the ground!” Ford bristled defensively. “And technically, I found you.”

“Whatever. It’s still a miracle you’ve survived this long on your own.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t on my own--”

“McGucket told me you only called him out here a few weeks ago.”

“Well yes, but I…” Ford trailed off. Stan could see he was having an internal argument of some sort. He didn't even notice when Stan gave a start as that strange, twinging version of his spider-sense returned. 

This was the first time Stan had ever felt it during the day before, and as he tried to concentrate on the sensation, he was more sure than ever that it had some connection to his brother. Something was wrong with Ford. No, not wrong with Ford. Something wrong was happening to Ford. 

But just as soon as he’d noticed it, it passed, and the next thing Ford said threw him off so much, he forgot about his spider-sense for a time.

“I’m not the only one who’s lucky to have survived so long on my own.” Ford said, casting his gaze downward. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before, when you told me my specimen had bitten you, and that it was affecting you. I can’t imagine what undergoing that kind of genetic mutation on your own must have been like. You could have died!”

“...Oh…” Stan squeaked. He didn’t know how else to react. He’d never felt like he could have died, not from the spider powers showing up, anyway. There had been plenty of times he’d gotten himself into trouble with the mob or creditors or gangs and he’d felt like he could have died, only to discover a useful new ability. Like sticking to walls when he was pushed off a building, or superhuman strength when he broke himself out of a locked trunk, or inhuman agility when he’d literally dodged a bullet. 

“In my defense, you weren’t being sympathetic to my ruined science fair project at all.” Ford continued. “It really did seem to me like you were just being a massive jerk and trying to worm your way out of taking responsibility like you always do.” 

“Wow, you are terrible at apologizing, you know that?” Stan grunted. 

It was Ford’s turn to roll his eyes. “Nevermind. Let’s just test these web shooters out already.” he said flusteredly. 

This unexpected apology caught Stan off guard. He'd volunteered to come out here and be a guinea pig in exchange for room and board. Stan didn’t really mind; it gave him an excuse to stay and… keep an eye on Ford. Yeah. Nobody could deny the nerd needed looking after. Stan certainly didn’t have illusions that things could ever go back to the way things were between them before. No way. He definitely wasn’t getting his hopes up. No one could prove anything. 

Eager to leave this awkward conversation and his conflicted feelings behind, Stan jumped off the roof, swinging on the chord. It felt great, like being a kid on a rope-swing again. As he felt himself swing to the opposite end of his human pendulum, he looked around for another good tree branch to anchor from. It was like his spider-sense slowed down time as he found a target, took aim, fired the second web shooter and released the first line, all in a fraction of a second. For just a heartbeat, he was weightless, before swinging forward on the second line. This was fun! It was hard to be worried or upset about anything when he was swinging through the trees like Tarzan. 

He managed to reach the outskirts of town in just a fraction of the time it took to walk, and nearly as fast as it did to drive. Stan figured he could get there even faster than driving with enough practice. He enjoyed the view at the top of the old bell tower for a moment, then swung back to Ford’s cabin.

The nerd looked like their birthday had come early when Stan got back. “That test-run went better than I could have hoped! How far did you go?”

“To the old bell tower in town and back.”

“Really? In that short a time?” Ford pulled out his journal and started writing excitedly. “And you never slipped, or ran into anything? The line never broke or detached?”

“Nope. I almost hit a few trees but I always changed course in time.”

“Incredible!” Ford grinned. “Let me see the fluid cartridge, how much did it use?” He grabbed Stan’s wrists and popped out the cartridges without waiting for Stan to answer. “How many lines would you say you used, round trip?”

“Uh, I dunno… maybe ten? Twelve?” Stan guessed. He hadn’t known he was supposed to keep track. 

“Hmm… and only used about a fifth of the fluid in the cartridge. Good to know.” Ford jotted the info into his Journal, then snapped it shut. “Fiddleford is going to be so excited to hear this when he gets back! Oh, and it's going to make salvaging parts so much easier!”

Stan raised an eyebrow. He’d used his powers for his fair share of ‘salvaging’, but somehow he doubted that was the same thing his brother was talking about now. “What kind of salvaging are we talking here?”

Ford got that insufferable ‘I know something you don’t’ look on his face. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Ford I literally have super-powers from a radioactive spider. Try me.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

***

They spent a few hours out on the roof, testing out the web shooters. How much fluid did one line use? How many lines did it take to travel a mile? How far could he swing on just one line? Did it take more lines to make a sharp turn? How fast could he travel?

Stan was pretty sure Ford would’ve had him out there all night, swinging back and forth between the forest and the cabin, if not for an incident in the late afternoon. Stan was trying to beat his time from the cabin to the main road when he picked out a branch to anchor from just within sight of the roof. He’d just released his previous line and was about to line up another anchor when he heard a sharp crack. He felt more than saw the dead branch he was anchored to break. He panicked, and instead of thinking to fire the second web shooter and create another secure line, all he could think of was grabbing onto a branch, or a ledge, or a wall, or something to catch his fall. He must have fallen at least 15 feet before he finally stuck to the upper limb of a giant sequoia. Immediately, he hugged it like a life preserver.

“Are you ok?” He heard Ford shout from the roof, witness to the entire embarrassing snafu. 

“Fine!” Stan yelled back, his heart still beating a rapid drum solo in his chest. 

“I think that’s our sign to stop for the day.” Ford hollered.

Stan didn’t need to be told twice. As much as he had enjoyed himself with the web shooters, this near-accident showed he wasn’t exactly a natural at it. He’d probably do a bit more practice a little closer to the ground before trying that again. Perhaps he wasn’t completely over his fear of heights after all.

***

After yet another canned dinner, Ford brought out the last shelved invention from the storage room. To Stan’s untrained eyes, it looked like several rolls of stretchy, colorful fabric.

“Something tells me these aren’t just to add some accents to your wardrobe.” 

“No. It’s an extremely durable fabric. I ruined one too many sweaters while out doing field work, so I developed something that’s water-proof, tear-resistant, protects from abrasions, keeps warm, and most importantly, doesn’t get burrs or stickers caught on it.”

“So, what? You want me to see if I can tear it with my super strength?”

“Well, yes. But also…” Ford paused to collect his thoughts, thinking about how to word what he wanted to say. “I think it could improve your costume.”

Stan blinked. “What’s my costume got to do with anything?”

Ford sighed, looking anywhere but at his brother. How to word this? “I want to help you.”

“I thought that was the whole point of me comin’ out here.”

“No. Well, yes, but specifically… Stan, you’re a hero, don’t get me wrong, you’ve saved so many people, but I know you could do even more with some help.” He finally looked his brother in the eye. “I want to help you be a better crime-fighter.”

Stan broke the eye contact almost immediately. “Uh, Ford, I can’t believe you haven’t already pieced this together yet, but… I’m not really a crime fighter.”

“Not technically, no, and chances are you’ll never be officially sanctioned or acknowledged by law enforcement, but that doesn’t make you any less of a hero. And that’s why I want to help you! You could finally have cutting-edge technology at your disposal!”

“I’m not a hero, ok?” Stan finally burst out. “I never set out to be one, and you of all people should know I don’t act like one.”

“But… but all those people you saved!” Ford protested. “I’ve read the articles! The eye witness accounts!”

“Sure, I may have been in the right place at the right time, and if I saw people needed help, I helped them. That’s just what decent people do, genius! It doesn’t make me a hero! I’m sorry a bunch of nerds blew things out of proportion and made you think I was one.

"The truth is, I've mostly been using my powers to steal. Money. Food. Jewelry. Clothes. Money. Whatever I needed to take care of myself. All those people I threw in jail? Folks I owed money. Enemies I wanted off my back. That's not the kind of stuff a hero does."

At first Ford's only reaction was a blank stare. He was taking a while to process this new information. For all these years he'd had a vision of what he expected the Spider Man to be like, and now, twice in one week, those expectations had been turned on their head. Finally, he collected his thoughts.

"You may have done what you had to to survive. You may have been taking advantage of your powers. But with that power comes a responsibility to use it for good!"

Stan rolled his eyes. "Responsibility? Yeah, right! Like I owe the world anything! The way I see it, these powers are the least the universe could do for me after all the ways life has screwed me over!"

Ford opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but after a moment's pause, he just sighed and shook his head. "Don't you see, Stanley? You've already made a difference in the lives of the people you saved. Hundreds of people already see you as a hero. Why not embrace it?"

"What do you care!?" Stan huffed. "You just wanna play the hero like when we were kids, don't you? Only if you can't be the hero yourself, you'll just live the dream through me."

“Is that what you think?” Ford shook his head sadly, “You just don’t get it.” He trudged back down the stairs to the storage room, the colorful bolts of fabric under his arm.

***

That night, Bill returned to Ford’s dreams. The researcher was getting used to his muse showing up almost every night now. He was also getting used to the otherworldly being’s impatience. 

“WOW, FOUR-EYES REALLY DID YOU A FAVOR, LEAVING YOU ALONE WITH YOUR DEADBEAT BROTHER, HUH?”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but this is the first time I’ve felt at home with Stan since we found him in Portland. In years, actually. While I still wish Fiddleford didn’t feel the need to lie to me about it, I think him leaving for a few days was the right choice. Yes, things are still… fragile,” Ford admitted, as he thought back to their argument earlier after dinner, “But our relationship now is better than it’s been for over a decade, and I’m hopeful it will continue to improve.”

“OH, I’M GLAD YOU’RE HOPEFUL ABOUT THAT. ONE MORE SHORT-LIVED HUMAN FAMILIAL BOND RESTORED, WOO-HOO.” Bill rolled his single eye, and then signed “IT JUST SEEMS LIKE SUCH A WASTE FOR SUCH INCREDIBLE POWERS TO GO TO A GUY WHO’D RATHER USE THEM FOR HIMSELF.”

“It’s... unfortunate, yes.” Ford agreed, his annoyance at his brother resurfacing, “But not entirely unexpected from Stanley. At least he’s used his powers to help people in need when he crossed paths with them.”

“STILL, YOU COULD BE A WAY BETTER HERO THAN HIM! I MIGHT BE ABLE TO HELP YOU THERE.” 

“Thank you, Bill, but no. Despite what my brother thinks, I’m really not interested in becoming a super hero myself. I’d much rather be recognized for my scientific accomplishments.”

Bill shrugged. “ALRIGHT, BUT IF YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND, I’LL BE RIGHT HERE WAITING TO MAKE IT HAPPEN!”

***

Stan wanted to scream into his pillow when the twinging, unusual version of his spider sense returned late that night. Sure enough, if he concentrated, he could tell it was strongest in the direction of his brother’s bedroom. But then, Stan got an idea. Those goggles from earlier! They’d helped him see some weird stuff out in the woods, maybe they’d give him a clue as to what was going on with Ford.

So he crept out of bed, down to the storage room to retrieve the goggles, and then into Ford’s room. Stan barely stifled a gasp when he put them on. A halo of sickly yellow was radiating from Ford’s head. That definitely hadn’t been there this morning. 

This time, Stan just sat there and watched. Every other time he’d felt this sensation it had come and gone in just a few minutes, maybe even seconds, but this time he was going to really pay attention and figure out what it was, and where it was coming from. What Stan figured out was, of course, really weird. Whatever it was, it seemed to be coming from everywhere, but it all converged on one point: Ford. That’s why Stan had such a hard time pinpointing it that first night, and it was why it had seemed to be coming from Ford all the times he’d felt it before.

After twenty minutes of watching and just trying to familiarize himself with the sensation of this peculiar spider sense, something finally happened. The yellow halo surrounding Ford’s head shifted, and the ghostly silhouette of a triangle appeared. It had a single, slitted eye, just like all those freaky effigies Ford had all around the house, and in the split second before it disappeared, it looked straight at Stan.

“... What the H?” Stan exclaimed under his breath.

****

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#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Spider Stan AU #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #This Jerk #My writing

[babbushka]

Twos’ Company Ch4. Sneak Peek

2k ; Mostly just a lot of fluff and some NSFW content <33

He didn’t really know what the difference was, anymore. Couldn’t tell sometimes with how fucked up he got, what was real and what wasn’t. He thought he was in a dream, was pretty sure he’s in a dream, because it’s too fuckin’ sunny for Queens that time of year, too warm. He’s sweatin’, he could feel that, knows that that’s real. His eyes were closed, in the maybe dream, they’re closed but everything was still too bright, like a sun that didn’t want to just go behind a fuckin’ cloud already. He’s sweatin’ and smokin’ a cigarette, eyes shut tight against the sun and something – someone was playin’ with his hair, was laughin’ at the faces he’s makin’, and he thought that if this is a dream, suddenly it’s a good one, because you’re there.

He dared to open his eyes in the dream, dared to squint at the too-blue world around him. Definitely a dream then, he thought, because there ain’t no way Queens was this blue – not even in the summer. It’s you, because of course it is, and you were sipping dark cherry soda that stained your tongue all red, made your teeth pink from it. He’s blinded from the sunshine of your fuckin’ smile, the whole of his vision nothin’ but you, but the way your hair fell forward and framed your face.

He wrestled you down on top of him in his own mind, yanked your head down by the scruff of your neck to plant a sticky kiss to your lips, a kiss that had you melting against him like you were putty in his hands, because you were. His good girl, you were.

He kissed you under the blazing heat of the sun, tongue sliding against yours in the dream until it ain’t just a dream anymore, and that hot sunshine fades away, and he grew more and more aware of the real world around him, grew more and more aware of you really climbing all over him, of you really kissin’ on him.

“Pale honey, you gotta get up.” Your voice echoed in his head, and he fought against it, fought against the urge to wake up and face the fuckin’ day when all he wanted was to spend the whole time with you.

But it was Monday, and Monday meant work at the diner, and work at the diner meant he needed to get the fuck out of bed and away from your arms and he’s already frownin’ when he felt the last of that brightness slip away.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” He grumbled, scrubbed a hand down his face and groaned out in aggravation, “Why’d I give myself these hours?”

He knew it was too fuckin’ early, it had to be. The sun wasn’t even over the damn skyline yet, the birds weren’ fuckin’ chirpin’, no one was awake – so why the hell was he?

“Because you’re a hard workin’ man. Go on.” You smiled at him, and dammit that smile really just made everything better, didn’t it?

It had to have, because soon enough he was smoothin’ his big hands up your sides, up your stomach from where you were straddling his hips, and he had half a mind to fuck you real hard right there, just like that. From his view your tits were beggin’ to be bitten, to be touched, and he sat up to bury his face in your cleavage, unable to resist.

“Honey,” You nudged him gently, scratched at his scalp with one hand and tried to untangle his long limbs from around your middle with the other.

“Nah you gotta come with.” He sniffed and snuffled and grumbled, only burying his face deeper into your flesh, reveling in the way they pressed against his cheeks, how he could barely breath, suffocatin’ from your perfect fuckin’ tits. “I ain’t gettin’ up without you.”

“Alright alright, I’ll come.” You laughed, practically pryin’ his head away from you by his hair, greasy and in desperate need of a wash. He could feel it, could feel the locks goin’ piecey, but he didn’t fuckin’ care, he’d have breakfast and then rail you and then fuck you in the shower, that was all. He’s so trans-fuckin’-fixed by the way your naked body looks as you climb off of him and slide off the bed, that he almost misses it when you ask, “Coffee?”

The thought of caffeine suddenly sounds fuckin’ divine, and he’s throwin’ off the single bedsheet away from his overheated body real quick to pad across the cold floor and follow you out the door and into the kitchen.

“Yeah.” He yawns, agitated and aggravated and really just wantin’ to fuck you over the counter. Maybe he would, especially with the way you’re lookin’ as you reach into one of the cabinets and pull out the coffee grounds. He huffs to himself, steals a cigarette from the stash he keeps in the kitchen, lights it on the stove and puffs out a few plumes of smoke before chucklin’ dryly to himself and sayin’, “You know I used to hate coffee?”

He expected you to be scandalized at that, or even surprised, even just a little shocked. With how much coffee he consumes now, but all you do is laugh brightly as you measured out the perfect amount of grounds to chuck into the coffee filter, throwin’ a smile over your shoulder when you tell him,

“I know.”

“Bullshit, how’d you know?” He asked, comin’ round the small island to stand too close behind you, pressed himself right up against you as you poured water from the sink into the pot to pour through the filter too.

“First night I was here, not a single fuckin’ box of joe anywhere. Nothin’ but tea.” You laughed again, wriggled your hips against his dick, the two of yous still very naked. You had a bad case of the giggles this mornin’ apparently, and Pale was far too amused to really put a real stop to it, so all he does instead is pull your back to his chest and clamp a hand over your throat so he could feel the way your laugh vibrated through his sweaty palm.

“What’s so fuckin’ funny about that?” He asked, lettin’ his other hand wander down down down your body, ‘till his fingers were toying right with the folds of your cunt.

He could finger you like this, he really could, and he does, because your laughs are breathless until they’re not laughs at all, until they’re just moans. Music to his fuckin’ ear, he thinks, as he fingers you, could let out a laugh of his own with the way you press your ass harder against his cock, cock that was now rigid and full just for you.

“I’m just picturing you with your big hands holding a tiny teacup.” You said between all your little gasps and moans, still got some frame of mind to be real fuckin’ smart as you grin up at him with your head on his shoulder, nipples rock hard against the chill of the air when you ask, “Do you want tea?”

He sucked his teeth, turned you around and hoisted you up on that very same counter, and you made a playfully annoyed face at the way the cold granite hit your bare ass for only a moment before he’s prying your knees apart, dragging you to the edge so he can line the head of his cock up real nice.

“Nah, coffee’s fine.” He said as he pushed himself all the way in, all in in one big slow strong thrust that had your nails digging into his back, had your mouth droppin’ open into that pretty little face you make whenever he gets his cock in you.

“But you hate it.” You said around your big sigh of pleasure, shifting around to give him a better angle, letting yourself lay back against the cabinets, careful not to smack your head.

He started thrusting in earnest then, wrapped your legs around his hips and made you hold his cigarette for him as he sucked dark red marks into your throat, your shoulders. He wanted to splay you out real pretty and fuck you with his face in your tits but the cabinet was in the fuckin’ way and he wasn’t in the mood to move you.

“I used to.” He groaned, groaned when your tongue and lips laved themselves over the gold chain necklace he wore every day, the same fuckin’ one you had clasped around your throat, matching like two peas in a fuckin’ pod. He groaned and fucked you harder, punched moans out of you, your hands scrabbling for purchase on his back, scracthin’ him up, stingin’ him real nice when he says, “I like the way you brew it.”

“I just – oh Pale! Harder – I just push buttons on the percolator.” Your throat clicked and he spit in your open mouth, gave you somethin’ to swallow, and you did, you always did.

“Yeah well you do a real good fuckin’ job.” He panted into your mouth, makin’ your face pinch up in that way that meant you were gonna come soon, and he loves the feeling of you comin’ but he decided in that moment that he loved the taste of it even better, and since this was supposed to be breakfast and he was starvin’, he wasted no time in pullin’ out of you just as your pussy started to gush.

“Pale!” You cried out in dissatisfaction at being so empty all of a sudden, so empty right when you needed him, so empty right as you came, but he only bit the inside of your thigh hard to shut you up and let you know somethin’ good was coming.

He shoved his tongue deep into your cunt, his nose rubbing up against your clit making you moan out high and loud, already over the edge and this just makin’ it even more fuckin’ good. His tongue stroked your walls while his hands were busy steadying himself against your thighs – steadying you so you wouldn’t go kneeing him in the fuckin’ face or nothing.

When your pussy had stopped pulsing around his mouth, he pulled back enough to jerk himself off. He pressed one of your knees down against the counter to keep your legs spread, and with his other hand stroked himself right to the edge, right to where his balls were tightening up and his stomach went all hot and he knew he was gonna come – and then he nudged the tip of his cock right back into you, shot his load inside you.

He fucked it into you, just a few lazy hazy dreamy thrusts, just enough to really get it deep in there, into that cunt he was so fuckin’ addicted to.

He came in you and stayed in you for a long while, until the coffee pot beeped and you couldn’t help but break out into a sweaty laugh, hair sticking to your face and your eyes too fuckin’ bright. Pale didn’t laugh, still too wrapped up in the feelin’ of you around him, but he did suck his teeth again, the sight of you bein’ so sweet too much for him.

“Come here, gimme a kiss.” He said, as if you were so far away and not warmin’ his cock right on the counter.

But nevertheless you sat up enough to wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissed him square on the lips over and over until his tongue decided to make an appearance once again, made you taste yourself on him, made you moan.

“You gonna drive into the city?” You asked, breakin’ away to breathe for a minute, and Pale groaned, forgetting all about work.

“Nah, I’m takin’ the train.” He said instead, runnin’ his hand through his hair, knowin’ he needed to really get a fuckin’ move-on with the shower and the changin’ and all the other morning routine bullshit.

“Will you walk with me to the diner, or’s there no time?” You asked, suddenly shy for some fuckin’ reason.

“There’s time, of course there’s fuckin’ time. Of course I’ll walk with ya, I always walk with ya.” He said, cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissin’ you real hard, wantin’ to wash away whatever worry that was that he saw flashing in your eyes.

He didn’t want you worryin’ about nothin’ – about him, or fuckin’ Barbie, or no one else. He’d walk you like he always walked you.

“Okay okay.” You smiled against his lips, laughing when he got too insistent, when those hips of his started to move again, his cock still in you, growin’ hard again, “Okay!”

“Okay?” He asked, wantin’ to make sure you were fine, you were happy. He’d kill someone, anyone, for you if you were unhappy.

But you smiled again and even though he had his cock in you, even though you could feel his big fuckin’ muscles all around you, you leaned over on the counter and plucked up the empty mugs you had washed last night, poured you and him a couple cups o’ joe, and handed one to him like the two of yous were sittin’ at a booth in the diner, and not stark fuckin’ naked in his kitchen.

“Okay.” You said, clinking the mugs together in a little toast to the morning.

And maybe he did hate coffee at one point, but as he slips and slides out of you with a groan, he found he don’t mind the dark roast so bad anymore, not when it’s you who’s makin’ it.

#reader insert #!! #<3

[writingonthemoon]

Old Clothes Part 6

Masterlist

Word Count: 2846

Warnings: Mentions of death and survivors guilt

Author’s Note: God, guys, I feel so bad about this.  I don’t even actually know when part 5 was posted, but no matter what, I feel awful.  I lost my direction for the story for a little and I’ve been… struggling with some things recently.  But I’m back.  Don’t know how consistent I will be or how this is all going to play out, but I figure y’all are here to help a little with that.  So, enjoy the first part of Old Clothes of 2020.

Old clothes would help you to stick out in a crowd.  Seldom if the correct outfit was chosen, but there were always those instances. A single mistake, one misstep while dressing, and you’re outed, done for.  But there were assurances one could take. The chest buried under the motley coats in the attic was always a good place to start, but one must be wary of their findings.  Games of dress-up weren’t the same as hiding in plain sight.  My mother burned the chest once I had found it.

     Was I supposed to be in the attic that day?  Yes, I was.  But I wasn’t supposed to go beyond the wicker basket that held my mother’s sewing supplies.  I’d seen something, though, something that was amiss in the dusty space. Rays of golden sunlight shone upon an old chest beneath the round window. Plumes of dust floated into the sun as old folds of fabrics fell to the ground at the cause of my curiosity. A lock caused my childish curse to come forth as my eyes laid sight upon the blockade. My gut commanded an attempt anyway, just to be sure.

     The hinges cried with age as my fingers pried the lid away from the box. The contents were all mismatched and random, but all were surprising to me. None of these items should be with us. There were books and letters and keepsakes that were supposed to have been burned years prior. Ribbons from the old country were neatly rolled and placed in boxes along with the jewellery from generations ago. It was like a glimpse into times long before the Davenports became what they were.

     My pockets sagged as an array of artefacts found their way inside. The steps of my mother sent my heart racing and I jumped away from the box. The lid slammed shut and my lungs sharply collapsed in a violent cough at the dusty cloud that filled the atmosphere. A lie was lost in a maze on the way to my lips and I was caught red-handed.

     The scraping of the box on the floor still echoed from time to time, when my mind was at its quietest and there was no better time to ruin my false sense of security. My skin prickles with searing heat and during the summer, I can only hope for a rainstorm to cool the pain. She forced me to watch. Forced me to watch the consequences of another mistake I had made. All those ties back to our family, gone. The memories from my parents’ previous lives, gone. Everything and every one of the items still in there vanished into the night sky in flakes of ash. Except for the stowaways that were in my pillowcase.

     My pocket held many small things. A crumpled sketch of London was dated back to 1743 when America was still a colony and pleased about it. My gran must’ve drawn it. She was always the artist of the family, so my father said. There were some stamps contained in a small coin purse that jingled as it swayed from side to side. They were from the Stamp Act and dated the day of the Boston Tea Party! Incredible detail was put into the small drawings. Tiny notebooks were chock-full of random notes and ideas and appointments and thoughts, different handwritings on each page muddling the narrative further.

     The other pocket held one item that turned multitudinous. An ornate tiara lay resting in blue silk. When could that have been from? Why was it here? Pressed flowers were held between thin wax pages. Delicate strings of pearls twisted and curled among the contents. Stubs of charcoal were wrapped in tissue from burns before. I guess the charcoal tradition was older than I thought. And a golden ring, whose one side had been flattened and carved, was carefully stowed in a smaller box inside the first. Initials were worn away from decades of existence and I had no clue who this had come from. All I knew was that it was important.

     I could feel a nervous and surprised energy radiate off of Sean. He’d heard of me already. Word travels fast between the boys, it seemed, “Huh, Odette?” He nodded slowly, lips pursed in thought. My hands found their way into my pockets and I twirled the ring around my finger, my mind mulling over the ancestors that it could’ve once belonged to. “Pretty name. That’s from that show or whatever with the birds and stuff, right?”

     "Swan Lake?“ My tone was a mix of surprises. One that he forgot the name of the ballet and the second that he had even heard of it. "You know Swan Lake?”

     "Now, don’t act oh so surprised, Miss Odette. We Newsies know ‘bout more than all youse people.“ He gestured to my outfit as if making the point I was wealthy in some way.

     I floundered for a moment, my mouth opening and closing like a fish in the Fraser, "You’re right, I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge. My deepest apologies to you.”

     "Nah, I understand where it’s comin’ from. Just don’t do it again, you here? Else you ain’t 'llowed here anymore.“ The tone he used was almost threatening, but I could tell by the slight upturn of the corners of his mouth that it was a joke.

     I shrugged, a grin spreading across my face like butter on bread, "I suppose I should keep my belongs on my person for a quick getaway whenever I’m here. Just in case I cause a revolution.”

     Spot took a step closer to me. The smell of rain and mud wafted off him and I could hear his breathing, “I wouldn’t doubt a lady like you causin’ trouble.”

     "Well, I am British. That can cause quite a controversy when I voice my opinion on this country’s state of affairs, even if I grew up here.“ An exaggerated frown made its way to my face, "Though many of the crazy old men that run this country say a woman shouldn’t have those sorts of opinions.”

     A voice from up the stairs startled me and I jumped, looking up to see a boy standing there, “You a reporta?” Almighty forces of the universe, the boy was practically naked! I know I was intruding on the home at night, but his undershirt looked as if it had been worn as his only shirt. Coordination between his suspenders and blue bandana weren’t helping his case either. And the way he eyed me, stared me down as if choosing how to fight me best.

     Spot moved to stand between the boy and me, “Now, Myron, don’t be lookin’ for a fight.”

     "No, Sean. It’s fine.“ I placed my hand on his shoulder and lightly applied pressure to move him, "He has every right to ask questions as the others do.” My gaze locked with Myron’s, the tension growing with an impending silence, “What does it matter to you if I’m a reporter or not, Myron? Unless you have something to hide, my presence shouldn’t bother you in the slightest.”

     "So you are a reporta.“ The whites of his eyes flickered as they rolled and he mosied down the creaking steps. He was only the slightest bit taller than I was, but I was hardly intimidated. I had faced worse in much more stressful situations.

     "No, you misunderstand. I said if I were a reporter, not that I am a reporter. I wasn’t quite clear though, so I can understand your confusion.”

     "Ay, no, you said it don’t matter whether or not you a reporta. And I should only be bothered if I’m hidin’ somethin’.“ He stood before me, a dirty musk his cologne and arms crossed in defiance, "Now, I ain’t hidin’ nothin’, but I don’t much like reportas.”

     "That’s a bold opinion of an entire career. Might I know why?“

     "They’re never lookin’ out for the little guy. Never caring about anything but the story that’ll make their name get out into the world. An’ once they’re done with you, you’re dirt.” His face was in mine now, our noses just brushing, giving me a good look at his face. Dirt coated his face, filling crevasses created from scars. They were in strange patterns, the markings. And they were so pale too, his flesh like marbling. I looked into his eyes and saw my pain staring back at me. It was too much for such a short lifetime.

     I raised my hand slowly, the sight of it in his peripheral causing a flinch as if I were to strike him across the face. My fingers lightly met his cheek, which was burning to my cold skin. He pressed into my palm, savouring the gentle human touch. “Oh, little darling, what did they do to you?”

His walls crumbled at my words, every emotion flowing over the rubble, “They’re gone 'cause a me. An’ those bums in their clean shirts and with all their money, they treated me like a criminal.” Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall at a moment’s notice, “I swear the fire wasn’t my fault, but I know that they were.”

     "Why would it be your fault?“

     Myron wiped at his eyes, hoping the tears would go away, but new ones replaced the old and started running down his face in a race to the ground, "I-I was stuck an’ they came back in for me. All I remember is being pulled from underneath the ceiling and her holding me as she moved me to the exit.” He sniffed as he stuttered and choked on his words, “But they-they didn’t come out after me. I swore I could see them through that door I was pushed outta. They was so close.”

     "Who did you lose, little darling?“ Myron shook his head in response, knowing the words will only make his state worse, "Was it your parents?” He nodded vigorously, turning away from me. “It’s alright. It wasn’t your fault. It will never be your fault.”

     "B-bu-but it was. It still is.“

     "No. It was the fire, not you.” My hand came to rest on his shoulder and I turned him back to me. I gave him a soft, understanding smile, one I would’ve wished to have been presented to me when I was coming to terms with my losses. A little bit of pressure from my hand moved the fragile boy to the staircase, where I sat beside him with my arm around his shoulders. The boys around us watched on before I moved my head to send them away. The two didn’t question anything and left without words.

     "Have you mourned?“ I asked out of the silence. I could feel his confusion at the idea, "I hadn’t mourned when I lost my family. I suppose I’m still avoiding it.” I stared at my shoes as I thought of all my adventures, all my distractions from the truth.

     "You lost your folks?“

     "Not just them. I lost my brother and sister too that day.”

     "What happened? If you don’t mind.“

     "Not at all. We moved a lot when I was younger, going from place to place, never settling for too long. During one of those moves, I got separated in the woods. I searched for hours and hours, all through the night and into the morning. All I could find was some of the family heirlooms scattered on the ground in a clearing. No sign of them or the rest of our belongings. They had just vanished.” I felt awful lying about my past to this boy, but it was difficult to explain the immortality when it’s to be a secret.

     "Boy, that is awful.“ There was a sad chuckle as he spoke, which I returned as an agreement. "So, you’re an orphan like the lot of us and you’re still a reporta?” He turned his head and looked at me, some form of shock and respect on his sad face.

     "I am not a reporter.“ I pulled my handkerchief from my pocket and dabbed cleaned the tears from his face. I wasn’t too attached to the fabric. I had stolen it from a man’s coat pocket when I 'accidentally’ fell into him while on the trolley. I swiftly left after the incident, escaping my mark and the fact I hadn’t paid for the transportation.

     "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Press.”

     I rolled my eyes at the boy, “My name is Odette.”

     "Nah, Imma still call you Press. It’s your Newsie name. The lot of us have all got 'em. You should too.“

     "Oh, I’m one of you now? Why’s that?”

     "I dunno. Just feels like you get us. Understand our side an’ all. And, hey,“ I could feel his tough-guy façade being put back on, "Brooklyn is the best neighbourhood in all a New York. Who wouldn’t wanna be one of us?” Myron’s walls were back up, but I could feel that they were a little shorter, not as strong. That’s progress.

     "I couldn’t think of anyone if you gave me all of Time to think.“ I laughed, bumping his shoulder. This kid, I don’t know what it was about him, but he felt like my own. He felt like my responsibility, almost as if I had adopted him.

     "Exactly.”

     "You should get to sleep. You’ve got a day and a half ahead of you.“ I motioned up the staircase with my head, indicating exactly what I meant.

     "What about you?” He asked as I stood up, eyes following me.

     I shrugged a little, looking into their common room of sorts, “I’m going to make sure everyone else is resting as well.” I looked back at him, “I guess I’m never not going to be a big sister.” A small giggle escaped me against my better judgement. I pressed a kiss to the boy’s slightly damp and dirty hair, ruffling it up before walking away from him. “Go sleep, Myron.”

     "I’ll see you in the morning?“ The look of hope he gave me reminded me of my little Elijah and my heart hurt just a little. That was why he mattered all of a sudden. He was another version of my brother.

     I nodded, "Bright and early.” He grinned at my response and ran up to the rooms as I went to herd the stragglers upstairs. Surprisingly, it was only Sean sitting by the fire, watching it with an intense stare. I stood and waited for him to acknowledge my presence. It only felt right since he was the leader.

     "I ain’t never seen Myron cry, you know.“ Spot broke the silence. I moved to sit across from him as he continued, "Not when he first came here, not even when he gets hurt. Never. Then you show up, Odette,” his eyes met mine, the fire reflecting in his dark irises, “and it’s like he’s a whole other person. You can’t tell me that’s a coincidence, 'cause the way you handled that and acted like a mother to a kid you ain’t never met is suspicious. And I ain’t fond of suspicious people.”

     "It’s a gift of mine, I suppose.“ I looked to the fire, faint images of my past projecting themselves on my mind’s eye, "When you’ve seen what I’ve seen and lost everything, you get good at recognizing it in others.” I met Sean’s gaze again, “And when you get good at seeing it, people get good at letting it out.”

     "I dunno, you’re seventeen. How can you have had so much happen to you in those years?“

     "How can there be so many Newsies like you all in such a small area? The world isn’t inherently good, Sean. I learnt that the hard way and all too early.” I leaned back and the two of us had a game of wills, a contest of resilience. For what felt like hours, we held one another’s gaze, waiting for the other to give in. “You should go to sleep, Sean. These kids are counting on you.”

     "Some of them are counting on you too, now.“

     "But you’ll stay with them,” I admitted, refusing to let any form of guilt creep up on me.

     He nodded thoughtfully at my response before rising and moving silently to the stairs. I heard him stop for a moment, a pause in his thinking and planning. “Thank you, Odette. Thank you for helpin’ him.”

     "He needed it. He deserved it.“ At my reply, he mounted the steps, leaving me to watch the fire die out the darkness from the streets outside slowly seeped into the dwelling. I was left with my inner-monologue as my eyelids grew heavy and my mind went blank in exhaustion. Sleep came after a futile attempt to stay awake. For only a few hours was I a willing casualty in the battle for rest. To others, it looked peaceful, how I slept. But the inner machinations of my mind always had other plans.

#finally #it be done #just enjoy this yall #old clothes

[polygon-streams]

April 21st, 2019 - Pat’s Easter/Post 4/20 Donk Souls Stream

Pat played another stream of Donk Souls, back again with Magnum Jr. Stream went on for a little over 3 1/2 hours, so there’s quite a bit to note

Recaps a bit on yesterday's stream, telling the story of Magnum Jr.

Is interrupted by piss as he explains how he wants to find a loincloth for Magnum Jr, we are still on the fight for as naked of a Kong as possible

"Suns out guns out here in Lothric" - Pat, 2k19

Thanks some good subbers

Waluigi subbed up, thank you Waluigi

Vordt of the Boreal Valley is a fun name

"Hey.. hey, man.. hey.... alright bye, guess I'll see you later, man." - Pat @ a skeleton lookin’ enemy who walked away from him

Magnum Jr. has an arrow through his neck is he ok

4/20 was successful because he didn’t do weed due to it being an illegal criminal activity

"I don't want to perry.. what do i look like... Matthew?"

Has a very long stare at the chat ".................Matthew Perry"

Bonk bonk bonk souls

Gives a few more gifted sub shoutouts

Half-logan?

( Chunk of the stream is missing about right here. Only about 30 minutes, sorry about that )

He doesn’t drop pants

Beeline for vort

Memeshart is giving good gamer advice ( I’m sorry Pat, we all know Memeshart is the supreme gamer here )

“I got vorted” - Pat Gill, 2k19

Let’s fucking go, Pat can do it, we got this

Pat has fought this Vordt X times

“Juice time, baby, juice me” - also Pat, 2k19

He’s having more trouble than usual bc his other characters wore clothes

Vordt Souls

RP: do you guys know my dad?

Hums to konkey dong

X is your uber ride, am outside

God dammit, dogs. He’s killing the bone dogs.

One of this weird turtleback men is actually my friends that wants to hang out with me

Does that make me into beef jerky? I want my Kong to be fresh

More dog hate. He’s getting mauled by dogs. “Please lord of Dark Souls don’t let these dogs kill me”

“Why can’t I use ember? Is it because I already am bird shit?” nice joke.

Tropical freeze is such a good soundtrack. He’s done into the past and he may switch to it towards the end

He wants to bottle feed the kittens. He feels the best way to get a kitten to drink out of the bottle is by convincing them they really don’t want it to drink out of the bottle

Just realized he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on in this game after noticing for the first time a person is growing into a plant. Now he’s wondering why the people in this town are turning into trees. Angel b: they’ve commited treason greatest victory : they’re turning over a new leaf

He wants to make today and tomorrow pizza days. And he’s got a big thing of lactaid so he’s set to commit this mistake

He’s working on the environmental storytelling. That’s why he likes it, you have to put it together

If Ken Levine made this game he’d had made it clear by writing on a wall or something but not here

Dark Souls II: spooky stuff here in dark souls. That’s why the game is not called light and breezy souls

He got box stabbed, but he’s having a nice time souls

“This is my friend, Johnny, get it?” - We didn’t get it

“This is my friend, David”

“This is also my friend, Nick”

“Johnny cage.. because it’s a bunch of people in a cage” ( can confirm joke landed only for like two people )

This area gives Bloodborne vibes. Sorta medieval Bloodborne

“I’m not gonna use the whip”

jk he might try

Important update: Charles is sneezing

Camera angle is not in Pat’s favor up in this ruins and he hates it

He doesnt wanna fight anyone called Hodrick

We’re gonna avoid Hodrick and go fight a giant shooting arrows from a tower

22.32 Bijan is here

Memeshart is a consultant-- Pat is calling on memeshart like an Alexa

“Memeshart, play Despacito” Another great joke, Patrick

We’re testing Memeshart’s knowledge boundaries

Memeshart lore: They were picked up from a shipwreck by the current memeshart

Pat doesn’t remember this part being so annoying ( he also doesn’t remember he had clothes for the other characters )

Again with the Johnny/David/Nicholas Cage joke ( but now we all got it )

He’s avoiding killing non hostiles ( he definitely killed them in his main files, though )

Grim Acceptance: The emotion that bopping to The Entire Buck Bumble Theme for 3000 Bits elicits

He’s not particularly excited for the Sega Genesis mini. He didn’t have a Sega so he’s not particularly nostalgic

Bastard Sword: “I am kind of a bastard.”

22.48 Faith’s here

X i s one of hs favorite tracks in the Donkey Kong Country soundtrack

dumbassrights was gifted a sub. a good username, we can all agree

Unspoken chat rule: You aren’t allowed to say you got pizza without also saying the toppings

“He- he packed a bowl, but it was 420 yesterday!” - Pat

Very close to having the loincloth

“Love a big rat”

He doesn’t lock on a lot of enemies, especially big enemies, with enemies surrounding

Even more dog hate. Sorry, can’t relate.

Onion man is with us. he did not help with dog enemy.

“This guy sounds like Paul F. Tompkins doing Alan Thicke”

He’s good friends with the big archer giant. Friendship goals.

Bijan: “Can anyone explain the plot of Dark Souls?” Pat: “No.”

“It’s time to probably die”

Onion man is sleeping, chat decides to spam z for good slumbers

Lore check: this is the son of Magnum Kong , Magnum Kong Junior and he’s trying to find his dad, his papa, his daddy.

Went full “That’s rough, buddy” with “They really just tied a bunch of people to these burning wheels, huh….. rough..”

“I’m not good at archery, but the point is not about doing well, it’s about having fun.”

( sees enemies ) ( gasp ) two of them! ( dies )

Memeshart comes in again to say Pat missed a chest. Thank you for your service, Memeshart

Memeshart was right ( as always )

enemies: throw orbs pat: Is that allowed??

Still hasn’t seen the bone ball. Boneball watch 2k19

“Perfect for us whomst love to hate wear pants”

Spitballing this part because he hasn’t played it.

( picks up a reinforced club ) “I’ve joined the reinforced club. The club is me. I am the club.”

“goin’ on a quick loin cloth quest”

“I’m not sure what burning an undead bone shard does, but 420 was yesterday.” - I am not sure what this means but he isn’t wrong, I guess?

We’re gonna go burn an undead bone shard in a loincloth

“Loincloth is a bit more modest than previous ones but we got the legs exposed which is important” - good fashion advice from pat

“I do like the swing of the cloth it makes you think you might have a little peek if you get lucky”

“I’m touching a lady hold the fucking phone dude. Did I fail the touch?”

Young Man Charles was in the background for like 5 seconds and chat went absolutely nuts. As they should.

“I just wish we could get the ass out more in this game. I guess they cut down on the ass.”

Pat yeeted the sword master.

We’re gonna fuck up a tree. He’s the first or second big boss in Dark Souls 3

Content Warning: Nasty Boss. Pat’s gonna smack this tree’s groin area.

Faith is somehow not fond of this boss. I wonder why

Charlie showed up but Pat is busy busting these veggie’s nuts

Pat’s still adamant about not using the whip: “I’m not gonna whip this tree dude’s nards”

“Watchin’ Highlander on 4/20!”

Does not want to be hollow, would rather be ‘plump and svelte’

“I love when my elaborate attack doesn’t hit.” - A relatable gamer feel by Pat

Pat is having a sweaty one today

“We should clay-less…. We should mackle-less ( old man groaning noises )”

“I think the gentleman doth mackle too much.”

Oh, it’s drag JK Rowling o’clock! sipping_that_tea.jpg

According to Pat you psychologically cannot poop standing up

“Why did she say that? why did she do this?”

Chat says that babies poop standing up. Pat responds with, “Babies aren’t like us.”

“I’ve had enough poopoo peepee talk for today. Fuck JK Rowling.”

Chat is going full trans rights for seemingly no reason, it’s beautiful.

Was that little man always there? We may never know. Pat definitely does not remember the lil dude though, but seems to appreciate his presence nonetheless.

Here goes the french champagne

c h u n k y  r o l l i n ‘

admin duderave put that he spilled cottage cheese on himself in chat, “duderave… how much cottage cheese was spilled…”

admin duderave was laughed at for spilling cottage cheese on himself. it be like that sometimes.

Aerospoon back at it again gifting about 10 subs today. Nice goin’, buddy, doing God’s work on this fine Easter

He was talking about his next stream and got distracted by Charlie, as you do ( the next stream is tuesday at 8pm est )

He’s got the whole day off on Tuesday bc he worked pretty much all week due to traveling

After clicking around for a minute, decided to raid thatguyTagg, and said goodbye

End of stream!

#pat gill #patrick gill #twitch #polygon #dark souls

[scaryscarecrows]

A Matter of Survival

It’s not his fault he’s out here. It’s not-Granny sent him to get something out of the cellar. If he’s going to be honest with himself, he’s half-expecting her to shove a broom handle in the door and leave him to starve. She’s been…nice…lately. For her. Which mostly means that she’s ignored his existence, but it’s a reasonable assumption that she’s ensuring she won’t feel much guilt when she kills him.

So he’s a little more alert than he might be otherwise, and that’s probably why he spots the figure loitering in the road. It’s not like they’re hiding, but they get a lot of traveling salesmen out this way-it’s not that unusual to see someone debating on whether or not to knock. There used to be a sign, but it’s long gone and Granny never had him make a new one, so…

Normally he’d go down and tell them not to bother. But not tonight. He doesn’t want Granny’s newfound good mood to vanish because he took too long getting what she wanted. So he clatters down into the cellar, hoping he doesn’t accidentally put his hand down on something that bites, and hunts around for the peaches. Where the hell did she put those things…there!

The jar is cold in his fingers and he presses his palm against it. Ahh, so nice and cold…

He locks the cellar doors behind him and glances towards the road. Salesman’s still there. Whatever.

HISS!

It’s only because the jar is sticking to his hand that he doesn’t drop it when he scrambles backwards. A possum is lurking against the house. Fucking thing, he lives here, he’s not even that close to it!

He takes several large steps away from it, just to be safe. He could have done without that, thanks. They’re awful.

But at least he’s never had to eat one.

He heads up the stairs and looks at the road again. Well? Are they gonna pluck up the courage or not? Jonathan almost hopes they do, because Granny will probably answer and the ensuing screeching will be both frightening and hilarious.

“Boy!” But that’s just frightening. “What are you doing out there?”

Time to go.

He ducks inside and locks the door.

“Sorry, Granny.”

“I sent you out there for peaches, how long does that take?” She snatches the jar from his hand. “What were you doing?”

“There’s someone in the road.”

“I don’t care!” Then she stops and eyes him and this is going to have to be handled with extreme care. “Were you talking to that girl?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me, child.”

“I wasn’t!” He points at the door. “They’re probably still there! It’s just a salesman or something!”

“Then why the wait?”

“I wasn’t sure if they’d come up or not.” He swallows hard and wonders if he can get the door unlocked or not. He’ll take his chances with the possum, thanks. “But they didn’t, so…”

She studies him and he squirms, unable to discard the childish fancy that she can read his mind. She can’t, he knows she can’t, but when she looks at him like that…

She limps past him and peers through the frosted glass on the door.

“Hm.” she says at last. Is that a good hm or a bad hm? “Go put these on the counter.”

She thrusts the peaches back at him and he takes the jar, half-expecting her to grab him and wrestle him out the door, out There.

She doesn’t and he retreats to the kitchen, prods the stew for good measure.

What’s she doing? It’s not that he’d care if she got herself murdered (he should be so lucky), but anything capable of murdering Granny is also capable of murdering him and that’s not so appealing.

He pokes his head back into the hall in time to see her open the door and march outside. Oh, boy. This isn’t going to be pretty.

“Get out of here!”

She waves her stick and he hopes, for a minute, that she’ll fall or worse. He could lock the door still, barricade himself in until morning. Hell, they might even have somebody’s rifle (from, as Granny puts it, ‘the war of Northern Aggression’)-how hard can it be to work it? Idiots have rifles. Bo Griggs has one, for crying out loud!

Unfortunately, nothing happens to her. She gains speed once she gets down the stairs and her shouting rouses the birds. They don’t come spiraling down in that horrid whirlwind of feathers, but they do start up a nasty racket. He hugs himself and watches in fascinated horror as she stalks towards the road.

“We want nothing!” she screeches, barely audible over the cawing of the crows. “Now get out of here! Go on!”

He has to be honest-if he were the superstitious type, she’d look like a witch. Hell, she looks like one anyway, but she has to look worse if you believe in that sort of thing. The birds aren’t helping

CAWCAWCAWCAWCAW

and he’s tempted to go hide in his room. Not like it’ll help, but at least there’d be some distance between him and Them.

The unfortunate salesman lingers for another minute before turning and walking swiftly down the road. Granny stops-getting her bearings, probably-before turning and coming back towards the house.

He retreats to the kitchen, stirs the stew a bit, and tries not to flinch when the door slams.

“Granny?”

“Never you mind.” Thump-swish, thump-swish. “Go wash your hands.”

He ducks out the other door before she can enter the kitchen and takes the back stairs up. Well. That was an interesting evening.

* * *

He’s woken by a violent battle between a possum and an owl. The owl is victorious, in the end, and he catches a glimpse of it flying off with the ugly thing clenched firmly in its talons. Well. If he’s going to be selfish, at least he won’t go into the cellar and get his face bitten off or something.

Beings startled out of a sound sleep has all but ensured he won’t be getting back to it anytime soon and he leans against the window, hoping to leech some of the cold from the glass. The glass isn’t that cold and he ends up feeling it grow slicker under his skin. Neat.

Hey, what’s that?

Someone’s in the yard. Not the road, the yard-right up by that old scarecrow. Brave soul, comin’ up here after nightfall.

Or maybe they’re lookin’ to rob the place. Joke’s on them, there’s no money to be had! Hell, if he thought there was, he’d laugh and search with them.

Well. Maybe. Granny might not like that too much.

They nose around a little bit-what are they doing, looking for a way in?-before turning and shuffling across the weedy no-man’s land towards Kitty’s house.

Okay, maybe they’re not a burglar after all.

He watches them until they’re swallowed in the dark before lying back down, but every little noise has him sitting up in bed.

* * *

Jonathan has solved the riddle of Why Kitty Has to Touch Him. Clearly, she does it to disturb his thought process and make it harder to lie convincingly.

Like now. She’s settled up against his back with her head resting between his shoulders, saying, “Someone tried to break in last night.”

He should know nothing about this. It should be a great shock and he should take it as an opening to say, ‘this is why we’re never going to speak of this again’.

What actually comes out of his mouth is, “I think I saw them.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I think they were in the road earlier. Granny saw them off.”

She shivers, bones moving against his.

“Mum won’t go to the police, because when Ada went out there was no one, but the knob was rattling. We all heard it.”

He wonders if there’d been attempted entry downstairs. His hearing’s good, but not that good.

“You’re sure it wasn’t the wind?”

“Wind doesn’t rattle doorknobs. Doesn’t run away when your father opens the door, either.”

Fair.

They sit in silence for a few minutes before she says, “What now?”

The safe answer is, of course, ‘never speak of it again and be very careful for a bit’. The true answer is, “I don’t know.”

She moves-feels like she’s pulled her knees up to her chest-and her head leaves his spine.

“You got shot at.”

“I did.”

“You could have been killed.”

Wouldn’t be the first time, he thinks, watching a black dot glide across the sky. Probably won’t be the last time, either.

“Yes.”

“How are you so calm?”

“Trying not to think about it, mostly.”

Also, he’s warm and comfortable and it’s that sort of thing that lulls him into a false sense of security. It’s hardly his fault-the sun is shining, the bids are singing (god, they’re annoying), there’s butterflies…

The only reason he’s not half-asleep (apart from the touching) is the idea that whoever it is-relative, lucky hobo, who knows-will just keep trying. Granny’s not going to go out there every time. Eventually she’ll make him go. Or they’ll run into someone on the way home from school. Or something.

“D’you think they’ll try again?”

No. Say no. SAY NO.

“Maybe.”

She moves again, this time so her side’s against his back and he has no idea how that can be at all comfortable for either of them.

Hopefully she’ll stay there.

“I don’t want you to die.”

“I’m not gonna die.” Obviously. “They were probably just trying to scare me. You too. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

He sounds unconvincing even to himself. She makes a small noise and before he can protest, she’s wound her arms around his stomach.

Um. Well. He…wasn’t expecting that.

“Kitty?”

“Mm.”

“What are you doing?”

“It’s a hug.”

It’s a very long hug. Not like he…minds…or anything, it’s just confusing.

“Okay.”

Um. Is she…going to let go? What’s he supposed to do?

She does not appear to be letting go any time soon and he sighs, tries to relax, and takes up plucking the leaves off a weed.

“What’s in there? What did you see?”

“Nothing. You? You saw more than I did.”

“Just the back.” she says, voice muffled against his shirt. “I didn’t see their face. And they had a hat on, they could’ve been anyone.”

“No jewelry, anything?”

“Uh-uh.” Silence. “It could’ve been my mum, for all I know.”

He can’t quite envision Mrs. Richardson chasing after anyone with a shotgun. A butcher knife, maybe, but not a shotgun.

Kitty sighs and one hand pats his ribs.

“Your shirt’s soft.”

“It’s old, that’s why.”

“Mm.”

They sit quietly for a while-Jonathan, for his part, is wondering if he should move or not-and eventually Kitty stirs.

“They were lookin’ for something.” she says. “Openin’ drawers and boxes.”

“Huh.”

“Any idea what would be in there?”

“Money, maybe. Nothing good.”

She hums. This is not a hug, he decides. This is…this is…he’s actually not…sure. But it’s not a hug. Hugs don’t last this long. He’s by no means a Hug Expert, but surely they don’t last this long.

“Maybe if we both went to the police-”

No.

“Kitty. We have two police in this town, one sheriff and one deputy, and they spend all day taking potshots at birds.”

“Are you serious?”

“We’re pretty sheltered. Crime’s not much of a thing.”

“But the dog-”

“Let me rephrase: we take care of our own problems. The police are there to take Jed Bloom’s whiskey away when he starts screaming in church.”

She releases him and flops down in the grass.

“At least tell me there’s no chainsaw-wielding cannibals nearby.”*

“What?” Where’d she get that idea? “Why would there…never mind.”

“So what d’we do, then?”

“Leave it alone.”

“He shot at you! And tried to break into my house!”

“What’s your brilliant plan, then?”

Oh, no. No. He didn’t mean to say that. It was an accident, he takes it back!

“Evidence.”

He’s not going to like this, is he.

 *Kitty is referencing The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. She tried to use it as a last-ditch effort not to move (‘MUM! There’s cannibal murderers, I’ll be worn as a dress!’). Bit her in the ass: her parents told her not to wander around after dark, then, and she spent a week having nightmares.

#Eyes Unable to Dream #Jonathan Crane #Kitty Richardson #Granny #Arlen has a collective fear of Granny #as well they should

[megsblackfirewrites]

Camping Adventures

Camping Adventures

Summary: Camp Wapiti is a favourite destination for children during the summer. Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes have kept the camp running smoothly for years, but there's a darker secret creeping through the forests at night. They can control it most days, but tonight, the monster has gotten the better of them.

Jack has to move fast if he wants to protect the kids.

Jack listened to the kids screaming as they jumped in the lake. He watched from a little further back, checking off a list of duties. His earpiece was going off as the other camp councillors sounded off their daily tasks. He nodded as Ana gave the checkpoint sound-off from where she had taken the older kids, checking the box and writing in the time beside it.

“Hey, Jack, that little McCree kid’s having a bit of a panic attack,” Liao said over the earpiece. “You’re great with his sister; can you go see what’s up?”

“Sure thing,” Jack said as he headed for the shore. “Can you make sure Reinhardt gets his chores done? He’s the only one that hasn’t reported in.”

“I think I saw him up in the mess hall trying to coax one of the little ones out from under the benches,” Liao said.

“That’s alright; I just want to make sure we have food dealt with before the truck heads out for supplies,” Jack said as he headed for the little figure huddled up the path. “Hello, bud; you’re Jesse McCree?”

The ten-year-old’s head snapped up and he swallowed. Jesse nodded and reached up to rub at his eyes. He had the same colour of eyes as his two older siblings, that beautiful shade of soulful brown that Vanessa always called ‘puppy-dog’. Jack sat down beside Jesse and set his clipboard off to the side; he didn’t want Jesse thinking that he was doing this because it was a box on a check list.

“You okay? Why aren’t you in the lake with the others?” he asked.

Jesse let out a whimper and looked away. “Scared.”

“Scared of the lake?” Jack asked. “It is deep, but if you aren’t comfortable, there’re life jackets that you can wear.”

Jesse shook his head and hugged himself. “No.”

“You sure?” Jack tilted his head to the side. “It’s pretty fun.”

Jesse shook his head more. Jack reached out and gently ran a hand over Jesse’s back.

“Or, is it the first time you’ve been away from Van?” he asked gently.

Jesse’s eyes teared up and he looked away. Jack kept rubbing his hand up and down Jesse’s back. Vanessa had been just as scared when she had been left alone while Thomas went with the older kids. Considering their dad had said that his kids did almost everything together, the fear was understandable.

“Do you want to spend the day with me instead?” Jack asked. “I’m a good friend of Van’s. And Ana will tell me when they’re heading back so you know when to go see your sister.”

Jesse sniffled and rubbed at his eyes. “Okay,” he whispered.

The signature McCree accent was already in full affect. Jack had laughed the first time he heard it because something that thick should not come out of young people’s mouths. Vanessa had threatened to fight him, which made him laugh harder because here was this little six year old bouncing out from around her father’s leg to fight him. Thomas had apologized while his father, Joel, just started laughing at his little spit-fire.

Jack offered his hand and Jesse took it. They rose and Jack showed him up the path. He let Moira know that he had Jesse with him so that she wouldn’t be a head short when she got the kids out of the water. She thanked him for the head’s up before shouting at someone not to run and jump off of ‘that’ dock. He smirked as he walked Jesse up towards his office.

“Are you the boss?” Jesse asked.

“There’s two head councillors; I’m in charge of people while Gabriel handles activities,” Jack said. “He also deals with food, which you can give us a kid’s insight if you want.”

“Okay,” Jesse smiled as they walked up the stairs to the office.

“Hey, Gabe!” Jack called as he pushed the door open. “I got…ooh, nope!”

He carefully pulled the door closed so that only his head was poking through. He gave his boyfriend a playfully glare as he made sure the innocent eyes could not see the massive dick currently flopped suggestively across his desk.

“Gabe, Jesse McCree is going to stay with us for the day,” he said, leaving the ‘please put your dick away’ unsaid.

“Oh,” Gabriel blinked before quickly yanking his shorts on. “Could have told me sooner.”

“Gabe. I just said it over the radio like, five minutes ago,” Jack rolled his eyes as he pushed the door open and let Jesse wander in.

“Was Gabe naked?” Jesse asked immediately. “Pa always reacts like that when he’s naked.”

Jack let out a snort of laughter and nodded. “Yes, Gabriel was naked,” he said. “And you have to call him ‘Gabriel’, okay? Only I get to call him ‘Gabe’.”

“Why?” Jesse wrinkled his nose.

“Because Jack’s my boyfriend,” Gabriel said as he dropped into his chair. “And only my boyfriend can call me cute nicknames.”

Jesse’s eyes widened before he looked at Jack. He hurried over to Gabriel and tugged on his hand. He leaned closer and whispered something in Gabriel’s ear. Gabriel grinned widely and winked at Jack.

“Oh, I agree, kiddo,” Gabriel said.

“I’d ask, but I’m not going to betray his trust,” Jack rolled his eyes as he sat down at his desk.

He immediately started typing up his reports, filling out the necessary forms for the owners of the camp. They liked daily updates on how everything was going, even if they only ever showed up once a season. It probably made them feel like their ‘precious baby’ was actually under their control. Jack was starting to get annoyed with the endless paperwork that kept getting dumped on him, but at least he had a pretty face to distract him.

“You think we need that many hot dogs?” Gabriel laughed.

“Yah!” Jesse laughed. “Hot dogs are the best!”

“What about material for s’mores?” Jack asked as he sent off a report.

“Yes!” Jesse squealed happily. “And cookies!”

“What kind?” Gabriel asked as he started typing on his computer.

His boyfriend shot him a small smile as Jesse excitedly started listing off a number of different cookies that he wanted. He knew that look and felt the same desire burning in his gut. He wanted nothing more than to have kids with Gabriel, to fill their modest home with happy little voices. They needed to get married first, though, or Gabriel’s mother would eat them alive. There was only so many things that Gabriel’s mother was willing to ignore about her unconventional son. Babies before marriage was not one, even if it was only adoption.

Jack had another report done and ready to be sent off when Moira poked her head into the office. She lifted an eyebrow at Gabriel and Jesse as they loudly and happily discussed which Western cowboy was better, John Wayne or Clint Eastwood, but didn’t say anything.

“Hello, Moira,” Jack smiled. “Problem?”

“Just letting you know that I’m going to be taking the kids up to the meadow for some bird watching,” she said. “The battery in my headset died, so I need a new one.”

“Of course,” Jack said as he got up and got her a new battery, taking the dead one and putting it to charge. “You think the kids are going to like bird watching?”

“I think they’re old enough to appreciate it; if not, it’s a great place for tag,” Moira shrugged. “Enjoy your afternoon, Jack.”

She left without another word, but she saw the look she shot Gabriel. Jesse glanced over at Jack as he sat back down and pulled nervously at the bottom of his shirt.

“Does she not like me?” he asked. “She was lookin’ at me weird.”

“She probably wanted to tease Gabe,” Jack smiled. “Everyone likes to tease Gabe about him having kids.”

“Hush,” Gabriel laughed and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not going to be ashamed of the fact that I love kids.”

“No reason to be, love,” Jack smirked. “You just tend to ‘steal’ some.”

Jesse let out a giggle. “You can’t steal me!” he laughed. “Tom will take me back!”

“I’m sure he would,” Gabriel chuckled before he brought up another form. “What you think of this, kiddo?”

“Gray, don’t swing that,” Jack glared at the ten-year-old. “That was just in the fire. You could burn someone.”

He watched the kid roll his eyes as he sank down onto his seat by the fire. Gray was pouting, but Jack ignored him as he checked to make sure the others were enjoying their hot dogs. Jesse was sitting right beside him, happily chomping his everything-on-it hot dog. He could hear Vanessa cackling a few fires over and Thomas’ gentle reminder to calm down so that she didn’t choke.

Jesse glanced up at him as Jack shifted forward. Jack winked at the adorable little kid before he lowered his voice.

“Do you know the story of the Monster of Camp Wapiti?” he asked.

The kids stared at him and a few of them shook their heads. The story was pretty infamous around the camp-goers and new versions were always cropping up. Jack loved telling the story and seeing the look of fear and intrigue on the young faces.

“They say that a long time ago, this place used to be a sacred place to the local native. They would come up here for visions and bring along special meats from their kills. Because of that blood and meat left behind, the wolves started coming to the area looking for easy food,” Jack said. “The wolves were hungry because the natives were over-hunting to satisfy the spirits that they were praying to. The wolves started attacking the people, dragging them off into the forest to eat. Their screams could be heard for miles around and people got scared.

“They started killing the wolves, but their numbers never seemed to shrink. There were whispers that the spirits were coming back as wolves to kill people as they were very unsatisfied with them. They started praying for forgiveness, offering masks and necklaces instead of meat so that the wolves didn’t come back.”

Jack leaned forward so that his face was highlighted by the fire. “The spirits started killing the people begging for forgiveness and raising them as wolves,” he said. “No one knows why, but soon, the tribe was no more. The only thing left were wolves, but the wolves weren’t the same as they used to be. They say that the wolves walked on two legs and ate anything that moved. And their favourite food is children.”

At that moment, something huge jumped out of the shadows. It howled loudly, scaring the kids so that they scampered over to Jack. Jack bit his lip to keep from laughing, holding tightly onto the two kids that had thrown themselves into his arms.

Gabriel laughed as he pulled the wolfman mask off of his face. “Aw, did I scare you?” he asked.

“Gabriel!” Jesse shouted before he bolted forward and hugged Gabriel around the waist. “That’s mean!”

“What do you expect from a scary story?” Gabriel laughed as he sat down. “We started s’mores yet?”

“Not yet; everyone was just finishing off their hot dogs,” Jack said. “If they are still hungry, that is.”

The kids squealed at the prospect of gooey treats and eagerly crowded around Gabriel as he started roasting marshmallows. The kids devoured every single s’more that Gabriel made, laughing and telling their own scary stories. Gabriel handed the last s’more to Jack, smiling as they sat close to each other on their bench.

The kids started nodding off around ten, huffing as Gabriel rounded them up to head for their cabins. Jack put out the fire, making sure it was good and doused before going to see the other age groups off. It took a little while to make sure all the kids were back in their cabins and that they weren’t going to try to sneak out. He said his goodnights to the other councillors and retreated to his and Gabriel’s cabin.

He was swept off his feet as soon as he closed the door. He laughed, hanging on as his full-moon enhanced boyfriend spun him around in circles. They smiled at each other, blue eyes staring into brown-turning-yellow, and kissed. The kiss quickly turned heated as Gabriel carried him to the bed, hands roaming over Jack’s body.

“You’re so hot when you’re protective,” Gabriel growled in his ear. “Can’t wait to see you with kids of our own.”

“Me neither,” Jack groaned as he was set on the bed. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside, smiling as Gabriel’s hungry eyes roamed over. “Like what you see?”

“Always,” Gabriel said as he crawled over Jack.

They kissed, holding each other as Gabriel’s body twisted and bulged. Jack pushed his fingers through the emerging gray fur, smiling against hardened lips as a big, warm tongue brushing against his. He felt Gabriel flinch and wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s shoulders, holding him as the painful process reached its worst moment. Gabriel whimpered in his ear before slumping in exhaustion, his newly grown tail thumping lazily against the bed.

“Hey,” Jack murmured as he reached up to scratch behind Gabriel’s ears. “All good?”

“Mmm,” Gabriel murmured before nuzzling his cheek. “Want to mount you.”

“Just don’t knot in me,” Jack said. “I need to be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Will do,” Gabriel said as he nuzzled his neck.

It was a vigorous round of sex for them, just like it was every time Gabriel changed under the light of the full moon in Camp Wapiti. They didn’t know what had happened to him, but at some point, Gabriel started taking on the form of a wolf. He was never dangerous, still very much present when he changed, but it was still terrifying to see a werewolf running around at night. It never happened anywhere else; he never grew fur at home; but those three months at Camp Wapiti saw him turning into a wolf at least three times.

When they were finished, Jack slumped against the bed, thoroughly fucked and loving the afterglow. He snuggled into Gabriel’s warm fur, sighing softly as Gabriel’s warm hands pressed against his back. He passed out surrounded by his boyfriend’s familiar scent and the pleasant feeling between his legs.

He woke to a scream. He bolted upright, his brain stuttering as it struggled to comprehend what he was hearing. Gabriel was gone, but his scent was still fresh enough to let him know that he hadn’t left too long ago. He could hear other people screaming and scrambled to his feet, grabbing his pajama bottoms off the end of the bed and pulling them on.

“What’s happened?” he asked as he hurried out of his cabin with a flashlight.

“Jesse’s gone!” Thomas shouted as he came running over.

There was another scream and Jack’s head snapped around towards the woods. Dread filled his gut as he heard the screams continue. Gabriel couldn’t have done something, could he?

“Get the other kids and make sure they stay put,” Jack ordered. “Ana, Moira, Reinhardt, fan out. We’ll find him soon.”

He didn’t wait to hear for a confirmation from the other councillors before he took off running. He quickly outdistanced everyone, vaulting over brush and fallen logs as he tried to figure out where Gabriel would have gone. Jesse’s screams turned into sobs, carrying on the wind and directing Jack towards him. His gut sank as he realized where Gabriel had brought him; the plateau really had been a place of prayer and it was where they suspected that Gabriel had contracted his lycanthropy.

Jesse was lying on the plateau on his stomach, curled up in a ball and crying. Jack hurried forward, dropping to his knees beside the boy. He checked his body, hushing him as he looked for any signs of damage. There was drool around the scruff of his shirt and his arms and legs were torn up from the brush, but there was no signs of bites or scratches.

“I’m here, Jesse,” he soothed as he picked Jesse up. “It’s Jack.”

“Jack?” Jesse whimpered. “Jack, Jack, I’m scared! The Monster came and took me!”

“I know,” Jack said. “I know. But I’m here now; the Monster can’t hurt you now.”

“Why?” Jesse whimpered. “Why?”

“I don’t know, Jesse,” Jack said as he held Jesse close and turned around. “We’ll get you back, okay? Just….”

He fell silent and clutched Jesse to his chest. Gabriel was standing in his way, flanked by two wolves. They were as silent as graves, staring at him and Jesse as they stood on the plateau. Gabriel’s tail started wagging slowly and he looked expectantly at Jack.

“Don’t let go,” Jack said as he shifted the grip on his flashlight. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Jesse whispered. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing I want to be a part of,” Jack replied as he got ready to run. “Don’t let go.”

Jesse pushed his face into Jack’s chest and dug his nails into the flesh between his shoulders. Jack stared at Gabriel as he let out a low rumble. The two wolves took a step forward, moonlight illuminating the white of their mottled fur, but their yellow eyes looked dead and soulless in the dark. Jack took a few deep gulps before he twisted around and bolted for the edge of the plateau. He heard Gabriel yowl behind him and the heavy slam of his feet, but he had the headstart he needed.

His toes pushed down on the edge of the plateau and he launched himself off, holding Jesse close to his chest. He’d gotten just enough of a running start to propel him over the first few trees and get him level with the water below. He tilted himself back and felt himself slam into the shallow river. Stars erupted behind his eyelids as he did his best to keep Jesse’s head out of the water.

The river rushed them along down the side of the plateau and out into the lake. Jesse squealed as they went under, but he was already kicking his way towards shore when Jack surface. Jack kicked hard after him, diving under his little body to get him up on his back. Jesse accepted the piggy back ride without complaint, clinging to Jack’s shoulders as he panted heavily.

“You jumped,” Jesse whispered as Jack’s feet found bottom. “From that really high place!”

“I knew the river was there,” Jack said as he hauled Jesse up onto the shore and let him drop to the ground. “Gabe and I used to jump in there as kids. You need a good running start though or you hit the trees and drop like a rock. Broke my shoulder the first time. Let’s get you back to your brother; I’m sure he’s scared stiff.”

Jesse nodded and grabbed Jack’s hand. “That was Gabriel, wasn’t it?” he whispered. “That werewolf?”

Jack looked at Jesse for a long moment before he nodded his head. “Yes,” he said. “But he’s never done this before. I don’t know what happened. He’d never do this to anyone.”

Jesse held Jack’s hand close to his chest as they walked. “Pa’s a wolf too,” he whispered. “He said that sometimes you can’t stop instinct. Maybe Gabriel wanted to eat me? Like the Monster does?”

“The Monster of Camp Wapiti is just a story, Jesse,” Jack said. “There isn’t really a pack of wolfmen running around eating little kids. The camp wouldn’t have been open for long if there was.”

“But what if there really was a monster?” Jesse asked as he tugged on Jack’s hand. “What if that’s why there’s a story at all?”

“Jesse,” Jack turned and knelt down, gently taking Jesse by the shoulders. “That story is made up. It’s like any other campfire story. It’s just meant to scare you. There’s no truth about it. Whatever it is that turns people like Gabriel or your Pa into wolfmen during the full moon does not turn them into monsters. They’re still in there and in full control. I’ll find out why Gabriel did this and I will make sure he’s punished for it.”

Jesse nodded and rubbed at his eyes. “I want to go home,” he whispered. “I want my Pa.”

“I’ll call him in the morning, okay?” Jack said. “I’m sure he’ll come get you if you tell him you’re scared.”

“Jesse!” Thomas shouted as he came sprinting around the lake. “Jesse!”

“Tom!” Jesse shouted happily. “Tom, Jack saved me!”

Jack smiled as Jesse rushed to his brother and threw himself into his arms. Thomas clutched his brother close, whispering softly to him. Thomas’ eyes flicked up to Jack’s and he could see the relief and appreciation in his dark eyes. Jack nodded to him as he heard a long, mournful howl behind him. He and Thomas looked up towards the plateau before hurrying back towards the camps.

Gabriel ducked into the cabin shortly before sunrise. Jack was waiting for him, his fear from the night boiling over into rage.

“What were you thinking?” Jack demanded as he grabbed the front of Gabriel’s shirt and shook him. “You could have seriously hurt him! You could have gotten Jesse killed! Is that what you want on your conscious for the rest of your life? Huh? Is it?”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Gabriel hung his head. “Please…Jack….”

“You know damn well what you were doing! You brought him up to the plateau, Gabriel. That’s where all that Native American stuff happened. You can still see the lines carved into the rock. Don’t fucking lie to me!”

Gabriel looked away. “Jack….”

“You tell me what the fuck you were planning or so help me, Gabriel, I’ll…!”

“I want to make a pack,” Gabriel whispered.

His voice was so quiet that Jack almost missed what he said. Tears glimmered on Gabriel’s lashes as he hung his head, shoulders sinking as a broken sob pulled at his chest.

“I wanted a pack,” he repeated. “With you and…and a pup. I wanted a chance to have a pack with you, to finally get our babies. It was wrong. It was so fucking wrong and I can’t believe I let that sort of broken instinct control me.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jack whispered before he hugged his boyfriend close. “You’re such a fucking idiot and you’re so fucking lucky I love you. Don’t you ever fucking do that to me again, do you hear me? This is the last year we’re coming to this camp.”

“I know,” Gabriel whispered and clung to him. “I can’t…I can’t handle this anymore, Jack. It’s like the wolf is taking me over every full moon. I can’t…I don’t want to hurt you or anyone else, especially not any child. I get if you want to leave….”

“We’re in this together,” Jack snapped as he laced their fingers together. “No matter what. I’ll get this shit sorted out, get through one more month, and then leave. Jesse’ll go home to his Pa, Ana and Reinhardt will take over, and we can try to get on with our lives.”

Gabriel nodded and pushed his face into Jack’s shoulder. “I owe you,” he whispered. “I owe you so much.”

“Ssh,” Jack soothed as he cupped the back of Gabriel’s head and slowly started rocking him. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

#reaper76 #Jesse McCree #modern camping AU #monster story comes to life

[iliketowrite1996]

Only you part 3

So I have not written argument dialogue in so long, and I did my best. Please, if you have constructive criticism for me, I would appreciate it! This is being posted because I think I am getting better. I was initially worried, but if I worry too much about if I am a good writer or not, I’d never post. So that’s what I want to encourage everyone to do: keep writing! That’s the only way tog et better and feel comfortable, even if you don’t post it for people to read!

TRIGGER WARNING- Fighting, divorce, post-divorce, breaking up, unplanned pregnancy, illusions to sex, self-sabotage, mentions of infidelity.

A lot can happen in six months.    

   In six months time, you have a boyfriend. It’s pretty casual, because you kind of see other people. But you really like Brandon. He treats you well, and he’s travelling a lot. That’s nice because you're not sure where this is going and you don’t want the kids t be involved yet.

   T’Challa has been casually seeing her. And you trying to be happy for him, but you know he's no good for him, or your children. Until he tells you that he wants them to meet her, you’ll bite your tongue and hold it back.

   Just like you’ve been holding everything back for the last six months.

   You’re having another family day with the kids, this time at the beach. Adanya is giggling as T’Challa holds her and they wade in the water, your seven year old holding on tightly to him.

   ‘’Mommy, can we make another sand castle,’’ Ado asks, and you smile at your four-year-old.

   ‘’We sure can, Ado,’’ you speak and you dive into making the sand castle with your youngest.

   You hear more giggles, and you’re grateful for this day. The kids are still a bit tired from moving back and forth every other weekend, but they seem to have adjusted pretty well. They like being able to spend time with both of you, and you’re lucky that it could work out that way.

   ‘’We should put this on top,’’ your son places a seashell on top of the now completed sand castle, and stands back to look at his masterpiece, ‘’Thank you for helping me, mommy.’’

   ‘’Of course, Ado. Want me to take a picture of the castle,’’ you question, and he eagerly nods. ‘’Baba! Adanya! Look at what I made!’’

   His sister and dad pad barefoot out of the ocean, her little hand in is big hand as they walk across the warm sand.

   ‘’What a nice castle! Perfect for a prince,’’ T’Challa picks his son up, placing him on his shoulder, ‘’Is mommy going to take a picture?’’

   ‘’How does my hair look,’’ Adanya asks, moving her hair to smooth down her box braids.

   ‘’You look just like Auntie Shuri, princess. Now, come on. We have to add another picture to the Udaku family scrapbook.’’

   She gets into position then, on the other side of the castle. You angle the camera so that you are in the picture too after you snap one of T’Challa and the kids without you in it.

   And this- this is your version of a paradise. You’re happy and carefree, and you can hear the birds chirping and the waves lapping against the sand. Your daughter and your son are in the moment, just enjoying the day and nature and imagining new adventures with each other

   And T’Challa is as beautiful as a summer’s day is long. This sun is hitting him and making his skin glow. It’s inviting, really- you miss pressing your lips to those broad

shoulders, miss being able to  place a hand on that umber skin.

   He is beautiful.

   And you feel horrible, because Brandon is there and you are comfortable and he is charming and why go back to T’Challa when its not feasible?

   It’s an hour later that the kids are falling asleep on you, and T’Challa  picking Adanya up while you take Ado and place him in his booster seat. The children fall asleep completely after they are strapped into the car. You’re sitting in the front seat, on the cusp of sleep yourself, and T’Challa is driving you back to your apartment.

   ‘’I’m glad we have been spending more time with the kids. Together, I mean. I can’t imagine how it is going to be when we start dating again.’’

   ‘’Actually… I think I may introduce Brandon to the kids soon,’’ you explain, ‘’He seems committed to me.’’

   You don’t miss the way that T’Challa’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, the skin across his knuckles stretching tautly over the bone there, ‘’Oh?’’

   ‘’What does ‘Oh?’ mean, T’Challa?’’

   ‘’That you have not been dating him that long. And my main concern is how my children will handle that, but I don’t want you to get hurt either.’’

   ‘’I’m fine, T’Challa. I can take care of myself.’’

   He mumbles something under his breath, and all you have to catch is your name being used and the tone to understand that it wasn’t nice. No matter, though, because he has no say unless it’s about the kids.

   Which is what he reminds you when you’ve played the children in their beds, sheets pulled up to protect them from the slight chill in the air.

   ‘’They’re getting so big,’’ you sigh as they sleep peacefully, Adanya clutching her plush black panther and Ado clutching his stuffed giraffe.

   ‘’They really are,’’ T’Challa looks to the children once more, and he gazes with so much love in his eyes that it makes your heart flutter.

   And you hate that and love it at the same time.

   ‘’So what are your plans for tomorrow,’’ you question as you shake the sand out of the children’s shoe and into the trash bag.

   ‘’I have some council meetings and a press conference. I’d like to also do some shopping for Shuri’s birthday.’’

   ‘’Ohhh don’t get her a new book set form her favorite author. I got her that.’’

   ‘’How did you manage to get her a better gift than me?’’

   ‘’She’s one of my best friends. I spend a lot of time with her, too. She’ll love whatever you give her though- you have the same relationship with her that Ado and Adanya have. He absolutely adores his big sister.’’

   ‘’She adores him, too. Speaking of family, can we talk about ours for a moment?’’    

   You close the door, leaving once you hear the soft click.

   ‘’Not tonight. I really need to get back. But the children will be with my mother tomorrow. Is that alright with you.’’

   You agree. It’d be better for the two of you if you talked about things later, when tiny eyes can't see into their parents’ complex relationship

   ‘’Sure,’’ you guide him to the door, ‘’Tomorrow at eight?’’

‘’Tomorrow at eight.’’

A lot can happen in 24 hours.

Which is why you find yourself face-to-face with T’Challa right now, guiding him to the kitchen table. After all, that seems to be where you have all of your conversations these days. The dim kitchen light adds a shadow to his features, and it matches the dark feeling that you sense coming with this conversation.

It’s not a fight- not yet. It’s clenched fists, tight lips, words that are spoken through clenched teeth.

You accuse him of not letting you move on, of being jealous.

He accuses you of moving too fast, of being reckless.

   And he’s forcing you to crontront the truth: you don’t want to be with Brandon. Not really. Or you do, and it’s not the right time. The point is, you don’t want to be with him right now. And the man that you do want to be with his standing front of you, eyes trained on yours in the kitchen light.

   ‘’Why do you even care?’’

   That throws T’Challa, because why would he not care?

   ‘’Do you think this is easy, T’Challa? You and I both know it’s not. I am still trying to figure out how to get back into dating, and you don’t even have the decency to let me get over you.’’

   ‘’I-’’

   ‘’I’m not finished. Do you know how bad it hurt when you told me that you wanted a divorce? That hit deep, T’Challa. Because I thought that, even when we hit another rough patch like that we would be fine, But, no. I felt like you were getting out of that relationship, and you never gave me an actual reason. That would have helped a lot, T’Challa. And I spent hours and days and weeks wondering how we let our relationship fall apart, brick-by-brick. You-’’ you’re cut off when your voice catches in your throat, and a wave of tears that you’ve never let fall in front of him.

   ‘’I hurt so bad, and I never heard why. You never told me why you just through it all away. I deserved that, T’Challa, and you never gave it to me.’’

   He’s letting you bent now- over a year’s worth of pent up emotions finally bubbling their way to the surface and breaking free.

   ‘’I didn’t even get a chance to get my thoughts together, you know? Because every wish us is so publicized. There was no time for me to even grieve in privacy like most couples get to, I had conferences and events to attend. I had to fight the media and this ...and for the kids. I did It mostly for them, even when I felt like I was trying to fight this battle without the proper equipment. Because I couldn’t let their world fall apart even when mine was crumbling in front of me like a sand castle!’’

   He’s watching you pace then, a bitter laugh ripping from your throat, ‘’And now you all of a sudden care? Why? Why can’t you just let me get over you like how you’ve gotten over me? Why do I still want you, and only you?’’

   And you sit and wait for his response.

   Everyone always assumes that T’Challa is invincible. After all, he is the Black Panther, the king and protector of Wakanda. He is stoic and strong, kind and concerned. He is an excellent king, a loving dad, a wonderful son, an amazing brother.

   But he can definitely tell the areas where he was just a lackluster husband.

   And no one knows how often he’d beat himself up over that after the last divorce paper was signed. How he’d try to forget about you at night as his friend pressed her lips to his in a kiss in the back of a limo and he attempted to push thoughts of you and what you were doing and who you were doing it with out of his mind.

   But you’re always there. Not just because you have children together No, he adores those children and he can separate his love for them from his feelings for you. What he can't separate is the feeling of being in love from your name, your face, your personality, you. He spends countless nights looking at the moon, knowing that you are looking at the same one, and hoping that you don’t hate him.

   Because he sure did expect you to. Which is why he was so happy when you didn't. What he's still can't explain to himself is his jealousy at the thought of you moving on and finding someone else. He feels like a hypocrite, but it’s got you to this point- you are finally talking about these things.

   Or, rather, fighting. You are fighting. He believes that, out of all of the things that have been said tonight, that is the one statement that you'd agree with.

   The one thing you always agreed on- before the children- was that having a relationship that absolute strangers were interested in was hard. Hell, you’re divorced now and people still care. There are always eyes watching, fingers pointing, lips moving. And he knew that getting into this with you, it would be difficult. But you’re strong and he is strong, so you figured that your relationship could withstand any hard thing.

   Not so.

   The blows came at your relationship, one right after another- rumors of infidelity. Hurt feelings, Pictures taken out of context.

   The straw that broke the camel’s back? When you told him that you did not know whether or not to believe in those damned rumors anymore. That you weren’t so sure that you wanted this anymore.

   That you weren’t sure if he even cared about you anymore.

   He’ll never let you know how badly that hurt. How he wanted you to feel the same hurt, and, in a moment that he immediately regretted, he said that the three words that tore your world apart: this is the end.. That he was done with this. That he was letting you go.

   Looking back on things, he wonders if that’s why he said it, the damaged root that somehow produced a tree on which nothing but heartache, bitterness, and tears: he wanted to let you go, and he was tired of trying so hard to maintain this relationship just to keep making the same mistakes.

There. He finally admitted it.

   He is human. He is only human and he will apologize for the moments of him being human that hurt you and others, because he is not perfect and they will happen. And you had moments like that as well, but all was forgiven.

   So he is hoping the same could be said for him in those moments that he hurt you, because that’s why he let you go- If you'd be happier without him, he’d want that. But he didn’t know letting go was so hard. And this marriage, or, rather, your divorce, hurt him like rope burn- the more he tried to hold on, the more you both hurt. And when he let go of the rope,things hurt slightly less. But that just meant that he’d now lost the rope, as had you, and there was nothing to tie you to him in the way in which he desired you.

   And he could say a lot of things to you right now.

   He could bring up all of the rumors of you and M'Baku his best friend of all people/

   He could bring up all of the times that you started pretty little fights.

   He could even bring up how you screamed at him that you didn’t want him anymore that night- the night that changed it all.

   But no. Tonight, he really wants to put an end to your heart for you, with tender words and the truth.

   Because, maybe, the tender words of how he feels will cushion the truth of why he asked for the divorce in the first place.

   ‘’I still love you. Only you, honestly. I don’t want her. Do you truly believe that I aver stopped loving you?’’

   ‘’I don’t know what to believe anymore, T’Challa,’’ you sound so defeated, and he hasn’t heard that tone of voice from you since the day that you signed those final papers, punctuating the end of your name with a period as you punctuate the end of your relationship with a signature.

   ‘’I wanted you to stop hurting,’’ he tells you, ‘’And it sounds so dumb and cliche’. But I figured if I let the marriage go and let you move on it would work. I knew you would never let go without fighting for it. So I lied. Hell, I’m even with… her, just to get over you. But I still love you.’’

   There’s silence then, before you are closing your eyes and shaking your head, ‘’Stop. Please just… my head is spinning.’’

   He has both hand on your shoulder then, staring at you intently, ‘’You don’t believe me, do you?’’ 

   ‘’Why should I?!’’

   ‘’You shouldn't. I know. But if I could go back in time, you have to believe that I would never have done that. Or maybe I would have. Because we’re finally talking about it for once.’’

   He’s right, and you kind of feel bittersweet about it. It took you breaking up, with schedules and working on co-parenting and being there for your children as well as your duties as king and former queen to make things work.’’

   Your silent then, before you are sliding down the kitchen wall, back pressed ot it and face in your hands.

   This Is overload for you- you’re not sure how to react to it. He did this to not hurt you, but he also hurt you. The irony is not lost on him, either, and he’s staring at you,waiting for a reaction.

   ‘’How did we end up like that,’’ you question after nearly ten minutes, ‘’We started off so strong. How did we get there?’’

   He sits there with you and balances all of the things. The beginning was bliss- that first year of marriage took some strength, but you pushed through it. As you did all the way up until you gave birth to Adanya. In that moment, you both had a new role to take on, but you loved it. That little girl has brought so much joy and laughter into your life, as has Ado. And you love those children with all your heart., as does T’Challa.

   Your duties as king and queen required a lot of public appearances and media outlets getting involved in your personal life. You knew it would be that way. T’Challa, who has been raised and taught how to endure all of this- helped you. His hand on the small of your back, he guided you through each new challenge the way he’d often guide you through introductions and crowds at events.

   So you sit there with him on living room floor, going over the possible reasons as the moonlight shines into the room.

   ‘’I think,’’ T’Challa begins, and he sounds even more unsure  than you’ve ever heard him before, ‘’I think that we put so much focus on being what others wanted that we forgot to pay attention to us.’’

   And there it is. Like a ton of bricks, it hits you. Behind all of those tears and fights and accusations was the root of it all- the moment that the two of you stopped working so hard to keep building what you had together, and it began to rust and rot and fall apart.

   ‘’Brandon and I broke up,’’ you tell him, leaning your head against his shoulder like you used to, ‘’Because I figured out I didn’t care for him the way he cares for me.’’

   He hides the grin that wants  to be permanently etched onto his face. Instead, he tells you that he cut ties with that girl a long time ago, because even if they agreed to be something casual, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep trying to put you in her shoes and attach your name to kisses that never held an ounce of the passion that he still carried for you. And you tell him that you don't want to talk about that girl tonight, that girl whose name you don’t want to hear tonight.

   Tonight, you are not going to play games with each other. You’re going to sit with T’Challa and have a conversation that is long overdue.

   You both understand that couples grow apart. That it’s human, That people get divorced and its often for the best. That what you had would take years to build back up if you even wanted to. That you'd have to make some adjustments and that, hello, nothing's the same as it was when you first got married. Adanya and Ado are smart and resilient, but you don't want to  push them through something that they are not ready for.

   He says your name so softly that it takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you as he plays with your ring finger, where there used to be a lighter ring of skin where that ring used to be, ‘’What do we do now?’’

   ‘’I don’t know, T’Challa. But whatever we decide to do, we need to take it slowly. And we need to talk.’’

   And you do.

   You keep it between the two of you, but you seek counseling. You figure out the issues that you need to work on if you ever do decide to get back together as a couple.

   But you’re not here yet. No, not yet.

   You spend more time together with the kids-from events that require your presence to movie nights to dinners to breakfast to lunch.

   You spend more time focusing on the positives of this situation, lesson on the negatives.

   You talk despite the times that it’s so hard and the times that you just do not ant to.

This continues for four months, and now you find yourself in familiar territory with T'Challa pressing kisses to your neck. Adanya is at a three day science camp  being led by Shuri and Ado is spending the with Ramonda at the palace.

   ;;I’ve missed this. I love this,’’ T’Challa beings his lips back to yours.

   And it’s slow- it’s slow like the way you’re rebuilding something together with him again. Because you need to establish that foundation and explanations and expectations. You're building something special, so now you’re using better ground work.

   ‘’I love you,’’ you whisper for the first time in over two years, and he returns it without hesitation.

   Because you’re friends but you’re more than friends. You have a confusing dynamic and it shows in the way you interact. Your kisses are clumsy but familiar, just like everything else has been the past four months.

   And that night, the blanket is not the only thing keeping you warm.

   Three months.

   A lot changes in three months.

   Your children are currently watching television as you and T’Challa sit on the couch ask your apartment, Udaku and Mommy family movie night under way. His hand is over yours under the blanket, and you can’t tell if you’re dancing with a flirtatious relationship  or another situation. You are both toeing the line, dancing between friends and something more, even if it's not like it is before. But that’s okay.

   Like any great story- whether fiction or not, your story is hard to read at times. There are twists and changes. Moments of confusion, moments where you’re not even sure if the author of the story is sure. But now you’ve decided that you and T’Challa will be authors of your own story. Because you can see it in his eyes that he knows the wheels in your head are turning, that you want to try again but you are not exactly sure how to proceed with caution and throw your cautions to the wind at the same time.

   He thinks about this three days later as you watch another movie as a family, all of the school work and meetings and events done for the day. You’re lying on the couch, feet propped up on him as the children laugh in front of you,. For once, he’s thinking about workout pain or willy uo want him back so won't you. No.

   All he know is that this is his paradise- his children are engrossed in the movie and the love of his life is sitting next to him. He’d be glad to rewrite a love story with you, but this is nice to. Now that you both know the root of the problem, you’re sure that you will have a happier ending.

   Even if that ends with you in the arms and heart of another man, and him with another woman. Because the only constant stars in the galaxy that is your relationship to him are Ado and Adanya. He adores them and they are a welcomed presence.

   And for the first time in over a year, he can truly say that he is happy.

   He’s ready to face any challenge and surprise that comes with being with you. He realizes that later when you say the same thing to him saying that you think maybe you should try this again.

   What neither of you know is that, three days later, another surprise will enter your story in the form of a positive pregnancy test balanced on the edge of the tub.

Disclaimer- i only own Ado and Adanya and Brandon. All Marvel characters and any fictional universes associated with said characters are owned by their rightful and respectful owners and I take no ownership.

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