#do not message me to tell me when you get bingo because your only prize is going to be the fact that you never have to watch this show again

[sapphic-luthor]

graphic design is my passion and @itllsetyoufree​ and i have created this labour of love for tomorrow’s impending... festivities

#can also be doubled as a drinking game if you're brave enough #do not message me to tell me when you get bingo because your only prize is going to be the fact that you never have to watch this show again #<3 #mine #luce #supercrack #sg finaleposting

[fruitcoops]

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

[genesisrose74]

Christmas with the Karasuno Boys (HC’s)!!

Part 1: Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Nishinoya, Tanaka, & Ennoshita

Part 2 (Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Kinoshita, & Narita) here!!

A/n: Tumblr said my word count was too much so I’m splitting this bad boi up into two parts :p Enjoy!!

*****

Daichi

A huge romantic during Christmas, 10/10 quality cliche times spent together

You wanna go ice skating? Hell yeah sweetheart, he will make it the most beautifully romantic thing you’ve ever seen

Like straight out of a holiday postcard type beat

Istg the rink he takes you to looks like a more heartwarming version of Rockefeller Center

He’s a big keeper of tradition when it comes to making plans, but doesn’t mind a bit of nonsense fun when everything falls into place

Which is why you love to bring the team along on adventures because they make everything all the more entertaining

At first he’s confused like ??? You don’t have to do that just if they’ve been pestering you about it

But then he realizes you care as much about them as he does (hint: a hell of a lot) and they’re thus invited along for some stuff

Of course y’all also get some quality time together on dates with just you both

Anyways you and Daichi have talked a lot about traveling and how he was really interested in seeing new places

So as his gift you got him a carved map with a roll of red string and thumbtacks, so that he could plan out all the places he wanted to visit

You know how when Kiyoko found the “Fly” banner for Karasuno and all the boys cried?

Yeah

Like that but with lots more hugging and laughing

“You know you’re gonna have to help with mapping this out, right?”

“Is that an invitation I hear?”

“Oh, that’s a promise”

FJSFJDSK ALEXA PLAY AMERICAN BOY BY ESTELLE—

Please I love him; he is so damn sly and sassy I will die with this headcanon

Sugawara

I swear on everything that Christmas with him is equivalent to a Hallmark movie

It smells like joy and warmth wherever he is, and this season only amplifies it

He is such a cheeseball without even having to try

But it’s in the really endearing and heart-melting way,,, just MMM PERFECT

He’ll take you on a walk through those neighborhoods with those crazy light decorations in the front yard and buy you hot chocolate

If he sees a group of little kids gaping at all the lights, he’ll leave them starry-eyed with stories of magic, reindeer, Santa and so-forth

“You know, I’ve heard that Rudolph’s nose is supposed to be brighter than the world’s most powerful Christmas light”

Good heavens, children absolutely adore this man

Anyways he’ll make it a little game as y’all walk around this beautifully lit neighborhood, both of you with a different assortment of bingo squares printed on paper

First one to bingo chooses a movie to watch after getting back to Suga’s house

Will wrap a big fluffy blanket around you both and pull you into his chest while watching the movie

For his gift, you got a star named after him

It’s because y’all alway go stargazing for dates every month, just to sit out, talk and cuddle

Suga gave you the SOFTEST look after opening your gift and this cute little card you made 🥺

“Lets go try to find my new favorite star”

PLEASE HE IS SO SWEET

“Right now? Koushi it’s 11:30 pm”

“Just for ten minutes, and then I’ll get you home”

So y’all spend the rest of Christmas Eve on his roof, sipping warm tea and attempting to locate Star Suga

Asahi

Cuddle bear alert ‼️‼️

It’s basically hibernation time for him, because he’s not the biggest fan of cold

That’s alright with you though 😌 more coziness for you

Lots of quality moments indoors means more creative dates

A whole day devoted to chill present wrapping? Hell fuckin’ yeah

Nice music, pretty wrapping paper, shiny bows, maybe a little Christmas rom-com playing in the back — the whole shebang

You find out pretty quickly that despite how it sounds, it’s actually quite a satisfying and enjoyable pastime

Practically had to drag him out of your living room to secretly wrap his own gift

As much as he’s the king of timidity and soft™, he can be very playfully stubborn when he’s comfortable, hence why he was such an ass to get out of the room

I have no doubt that Asahi would melt for the most adorable, cheesy shit

So you not only bought him some really reliable headbands for volleyball use, but you also made a little coupon booklet

He can basically cash in paper promises for certain things, like getting to choose the next date idea, picking a movie to watch without any objection, having you make his favorite food, etc.

There’s one that he can exchange for a full out spa day trip, because good heavens he’s a sucker for those

Massage and exfoliation and everything — it makes him feel ✨refreshed✨

He was ecstatic fam, I don’t even know what to say

Like a puppy who just got a bunch of toys and a new backyard to play

Mans cashes in one almost immediately, and at first you’re confused

Like it’s Christmas time bubs, what are we gonna be able to do when most places are closed and it’s the holidays?

Then you read the paper

“Free hug (can be used and renewed <3)”

GIVE HIM HIS DAMN HUGS RIGHT NOW

He uses that one a lot throughout the upcoming days, to the point where he just keeps the paper on him for fun

“You realize you can just ask me silly, you don’t need to keep carrying the coupon around”

“Yeah, but it’s entertaining”

Cute little cheeky bastard

Nishinoya

LOVES LOVES LOVES CHRISTMAS

You know the 12 Days of Christmas? The song??

He gets you a small present EVERY DAY for all 12 days

Not to mention he has a big present that he saves for the actual holiday

Y’all are the type of couple to get ice cream in the middle of winter

Nishi loves his cold snacks any time of year, and you’ve thus picked up a similar taste

He will consistently pester you about what kind of present you got him

Gets pouty when you don’t tell him, but in the back of his mind he’s glad because it would ruin the surprise

Anything you get him instantly becomes his most prized gift tho

It could be a literal rock with googly eyes and he’d put it in a protective glass case for preservation

But of course you get him something better than that because he only deserves the best

He’s got this specific assortment of products to maintain his spiky hair and to make sure it’s healthy, but they’re pretty expensive to buy when he runs out

When he tore open your present’s decorative wrapping to discover a huge basket of basically every hair product he ever needed, he got wide-eyed

There was also a booklet of little notes you’d kept throughout the month that listed all the little things you noticed and adored about your precious boyfriend

He nearly CRIED reading them

“Baby, you didn’t have to do all that for me”

“You act like you don’t deserve all of it and more, Nishi”

Refuses to leave your side after that

Holding your hand, hugging you as tight as he can, etc.

He is head over heels idc idc

Tanaka

Another man who is obsessed with the holiday season and everything that comes with it

He is the biggest sap for this shit istg

Will spend hours trying to get you the best present of all time

And he succeeds exceptionally

Mistletoe? He’s got an ABUNDANCE on hand at any time, just to make sure he can get fair share of his kissies 🥰

His signature beanie appears in full force during winter

Sometimes you’ll pull it over his eyes before giving him a peck on the cheek and dashing off in the school halls

“I’ll see you after school, babe!”

Speech = jumbled + incomprehensible

“Uh hUh, you do that~”

He’s: adorable

I just know that he melts for really sweet and thought-out gifts

Like anything you give him he’ll adore, don’t get me wrong, but the ones done with special care and love are just his kryptonite

He brought you into a massive bear hug and spun you around when he opened a photo book of old pictures taken together, complete with lots of cute messages and anecdotes written alongside them

You and Saeko may have also gone in on another present for him without his knowledge

And on Christmas Eve, you dragged a curious Tanaka into his front yard to the sight of a shiny motorbike

It was Saeko’s old one that she’d held onto for a while, and an old schoolmate offered to fix it up nice in time for the holiday at a discount, so y’all decided to divvy up the lowered price and got it done for Ryu

Sweet boy was taken aback, with his hands clapped over his mouth and everything

Saeko patted him on the back as he stood there in shock, giving her baby brother a sweet smile

“All yours, little bro!”

Ya, Saeko fucking loves you 😌 and so does Tanaka

Overall very lovely, would cry to be loved by the Tanaka siblings

Ennoshita

After spending past Decembers with his fellow second year classmates (namely, the very enthusiastic Noya and Tanaka), he’s grown to know quite a bit about the different holiday events that go on around town

Still, Ennoshita is a pretty simplistic guy and is content with simply spending time with you

So when you recommended going to pick a Christmas tree out for your place together, he’s totally down

As long as he gets to help decorate too ☺️

Y’all end up picking a beauty of a tree ngl

It’s SO TALL

And a super stronk friend — fit for the most heavy duty of ornaments

It takes some damn work to get that bad boi inside and upright after driving back to your house

But like hell did that stop you

Now that it was all set up, sturdy, and given plenty of water, decorations were brought into the equation that same night

No rest until it’s all set up and looking mighty beautiful

Okay maybe some coffee breaks in between, but other than that the grind don’t stop ✋😤

Ennoshita is an expert at making Christmas trees look absolutely immaculate

Idk if it’s because he’s had to deal with cleaning up disorder for a while now?

Looking at you, ya second year loons

He just has the touch, fam

He’ll of course let you have input on which light colors, what type of ornaments, and so on

But honestly it’s really fun seeing him fully concentrated on making your tree the best it can be

He lets you on his shoulders to put on the tree topper 🥺

For his gift, Ennoshita really loves books, so you decided to get him 12 different (hardcover!!) stories — one for each month in a year

Along with a small sticky-note blurb on the covers of each to explain why you chose it, and to give similar title recommendations if he ends up enjoying

He was so surprised with how thoughtful and extensive it was

Loved it so much that he immediately started to read the first one, with you sat in his lap

“Chikara, you realize you’re meant to start this one in January?”

“Shh, I’m getting a head start”

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu anime #haikyuu to the top #haikyuu x reader #daichi sawamura #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #sugawara koushi #suga x reader #sugawara x reader #asahi azumane #asahi x reader #asahi azumane x reader #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #tanaka ryunosuke #tanaka x reader #Tanaka ryunosuke x reader #ennoshita chikara #ennoshita x reader #ennoshita chikara x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu christmas

[cheri-translates]

SOS! My husband is wallowing in jealousy and can’t free himself! (a translated one-shot)

I translated this one-shot, “SOS! 老公沉迷吃醋无法自拔”, written by 谢谢我知道我很可爱z on Weibo (with permission) because it’s adorable :>

She intentionally used very basic Chinese with few descriptors, so I embellished it slightly for a fuller reading experience!

I’ll be keeping the original writer updated on comments left on this work because she’s the one who deserves all the credit 💕

[ present ]

“Gavin. Gavin?” You wave your hand in front of your husband’s face. “What’s wrong? You’ve been lost in thought ever since we returned from the amusement park.”

Gavin whips his head towards you, responding flatly. “Ahem, it’s nothing. I... I need to use the washroom.”

As though he’s fleeing from something, he rises from the bed and bolts straight to the bathroom. 

“That’s strange,” you muse with a frown. Turning towards the gigantic, ridiculously soft bunny resting near the headboard, you nuzzle into its arms and a contented sigh escapes from your parted lips. “Mm, whatever.”

There’s just something comforting about plush toys. 

--

[ earlier today ]

The pink bunny was a prize from the amusement park.

When you and Gavin walked past the shooting game booth earlier in the day, the plush had immediately seized your attention. However, you also noticed the group of young children who were looking eager to have a go at the booth.

While having a husband from the police force would make winning an easy feat, you felt that it was embarrassing to basically snatch a lollipop from a baby.

Out of sight, out of mind, you thought to yourself.

Tearing your eyes away from that adorable and tempting plush toy, you matched Gavin’s pace. Fortunately, the array of attractions which followed provided a much needed distraction.

Halfway through a simple lunch, Gavin left to get drinks. Or at least, that’s what he claimed.

More than ten minutes had gone by since he left, and you were starting to feel worried. Just as you decided to give him a call, he walked through the doors. 

With a pink stuffed bunny in his arms.

Your eyes sparkled. 

Paying no heed to the other diners, you lunged over to him, giving him a generous kiss. Gavin’s ears remained flushed for almost half the day. 

“Gavin, you...” your words came out a little clumsily due to excitement, pressing the huge bunny to your chest, burying your chin in its softness. Your eyes flitted from the bunny to Gavin. “You didn’t ‘bully’ the kids, did you?”

He patted your hair, and you heard his gentle laugh and clear voice from the top of your head. 

“I didn’t. Most of the kids are having lunch now, so the booth was pretty much empty. Also, there are other prizes available.”

“That’s good to hear.” You clutched the bunny with one arm, then pulled Gavin back to your seats contentedly. “How did you know that I wanted this bunny?”

“Ahem,” his face was once again coloured with a reddish hue. “You kept looking at it just now.”

“That’s not true, I only looked at it for three seconds at most...” you explained, but was cut off by his following sentence. 

“And this bunny looks like you. It’s very cute.”

You quickly lowered your head, feeling your cheeks turning warm. 

“L-let’s dig in. Are there any other attractions you want to try? It’s rare for the both of us to have time after a year of being married, so we definitely have to play to our heart’s content.”

“All right, whatever you say.”

--

You were in an incredibly good mood when the evening set in and the two of you were ready to return home. You suggested walking home, and Gavin agreed.

As usual, he carried the bags in one hand, and took yours in the other. He noticed that you were holding the rabbit in your arm. “Let me.”

“No need, no need,” you laughed and gently waved away Gavin’s outstretched hand. “How could a strapping young lad like you carry such a childish stuffed toy?” 

You loosened your grip on his hand. 

“Here, I’ll carry it with both hands, so I won’t be tired.”

The right hand you had let go of paused for a moment. Gavin’s brows furrowed imperceptibly, but his expression smoothened out in an instant.

“All right, let’s go home.”

--

After reaching home, you immediately rushed into the bedroom and placed the bunny on the headboard, utterly satisfied. 

Gavin frowned when he saw this, as though he couldn't quite understand something.

“Does it need to sleep?”

You grinned broadly and responded, “It’d be much more comfortable to hug it to sleep.”

“You need to hug it while sleeping?” He questioned. 

“Bingo~ You snapped your fingers, tossing Gavin a glance, wanting to see his reaction.

You didn't expect Gavin to sit at the side of the bed wordlessly, an unreadable expression on his face. You waved your hands in front of him, but he hurriedly escaped to the bathroom.

With the door closed behind him, he whispered under his breath, too softly for you to hear. “Am I not comfortable enough?”

--

[ present ]

Outside, you rub your chin and mutter to yourself.

“He isn’t angry, is he? Did I say something to make him angry?” 

You sigh. 

A man’s thoughts are truly difficult to decipher.

At this moment, a familiar ringtone resounds, notifying you of an incoming message.

It’s Minor.

[Message from Minor:] Sister-in-law! Sister-in-law! What happened between you and Bro Gavin?

Confused, you reply with a:

The next thing you receive from him is a voice clip. Grabbing your wireless earpieces from the bedside table, you press ‘play’. 

From the speed at which Minor is talking, you can immediately tell that he’s incredibly frantic. 

“Argh! You have no idea how aggrieved my Bro Gavin feels! He says you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder, so he had no choice but to send me a message asking what to do if his wife’s heart has taken off with someone else. Didn’t the two of you go to the amusement park today? How could such a thing happen? Even though this is a relationship between the two of you, I was once your great deskmate and now your employee at work. Sis-in-law, I’m not trying to be judgmental, but Bro Gavin is talented, handsome, and outstanding in so many areas. How could there be a young man in the amusement park who’s even more attractive and you can’t bear to part with?”

“No, Minor...” you reply with a voice clip, your eyes fluttering shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “I didn’t meet any young man... And no, I didn’t give him the cold shoulder. I’ll talk to him properly, all right? In short, this is all just a misunderstanding, and we’re sorry to have made you worry.” 

After removing your earpieces, you recall the afternoon’s events and come to a conclusion:

Gavin. Is. Jealous.

And he’s jealous of a stuffed toy.

Didn’t you simply hug it in the afternoon? Didn’t you simply place it on the bed and plan to hug it at night? Does he not understand the heart of a woman? How could he get jealous over this? 

You find yourself laughing softly, recalling the forceful kiss he once gave you when you were on that blind date a few years ago.

He does look pretty cute when jealous. 

Suddenly, an idea flashes across your mind, and you know exactly how to coax him.

At this moment, Officer Gavin returns.

You instantly lean back against the bunny, pretending to be scrolling through your phone in a casual manner. “Hubby, did you have fun today?”

You seldom call him “Hubby”. 

Keeping a close eye on Gavin’s reactions, you notice that he falters in his steps once he hears the rare term of address.

“It was okay.”

“What do you mean ‘okay’? We had so much fun, and you even gave me this stuffed bunny. I’m really happy!” You place your phone to the side, looking straight at him with a grin.

Another pause.

Gavin lifts the covers and sits on the bed. “...you must be tired from today. Go to sleep.” Then, he lies down and no longer makes a sound.

Gavin’s looks really upset, you think, laughing internally. Could he be regretting winning the rabbit for me?

After laughing wildly in your heart a grand total of 800 times, you purse your lips and say, in a serious voice, “All right, let’s go to sleep.”

After switching off the lights, you settle under the covers with your back facing Gavin, squeezing the bunny to your chest.

Not too soon after, an arm slowly snakes across your waist from behind, and you can feel Gavin’s warm breaths on your ear. 

“Honey.”

He seldom calls you "Honey”.

“Mm? What’s wrong?” you ask, feeling your heart clenching in mild guilt.

“Did you sense that... I wasn’t in a good mood today?”

“Mm... I sensed it...” you slowly turn to face him. “But since you aren’t willing to tell me about it, I won’t probe.”

He coughs lightly. 

“Could you let go of that rabbit? You’ve already... hugged it for half the day.” After speaking, he even gives you a sincere, puppy-eyed look. 

No longer able to control yourself, you burst into a stream of laughter. 

“Officer Gavin,” you twist your body slightly to place the rabbit on the bedside table. Without any obstructions, you wrap your arm around his waist. “Can I understand this as you being jealous, and jealous of a stuffed toy?”

“Ahem... I’m not.” Even in the dark, you can see a visible redness crawling up a certain person’s face.

“Liar,” you immediately plant a kiss on his cheek, and lean closer to whisper into his ear. “Your face is red.”

Chaos ensues after that. 

Gavin presses you down, the bed sinking under the weight as he leans down to kiss you - your forehead, the tip of your nose, your chin, your exposed collarbone. 

He draws back, keeping his gaze on you.

“Then I’ll admit it.”

Another kiss. This time, on the lips.

You can’t tell how long this continues, but by the time you come to your senses, your lips are slightly swollen and his fingers are fumbling to unbutton your pyjamas.

“Hey,” you swat his hands away, splaying your right hand on his firm chest. “You said that I was tired.”

With breathy laughter, he grabs your wrists and clasps them on the bed. Leaning in close to your ear, he says in a hoarse voice:

“You said that I was a liar.”

--

[ a while later ]

“Actually, the bunny isn’t just for you.” Gavin muses quietly, playing with the ends of your hair as you lean on his chest.

“Hm?”

“At first, I was thinking that if you didn’t like it, we could give it to our child in the future.”

#mlqc #mlqc gavin

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Power Play

A/N: FINALLY. The last Billy smooch is here! This one makes #7 for Mr. Russo and #20 over all. I have had a blast coming up with all these lip locks, so thank you to everyone who sent in requests!! I’ve got one more smooch coming as a cracker jack bonus prize to all these kisses, and that will hopefully be up sometime this weekend. In the meantime, have some cocky Anvil Billy for your Friday.

Word Count: 3,224

Prompt from: @suchatinyinfinity who wanted “Billy at a party/ Power”

Billy noticed the man’s presence the second his shoes crossed from the cream colored marble onto the diamond patterned floor of the Oak Room’s back bar. Shit. He’d been responding to a work related message, phone in hand and typing furiously, when instinct told him to raise his eyes to the door. He’d always had an uncanny way of sensing an enemy’s presence, a constant vigilance that transferred from the battlefield to the boardroom and everywhere in between. He felt his top lip curl in an involuntary snarl, disgust growing with each step the man took. He turned slightly towards the bar for a second, nostrils flared and lips pressed tightly together. Giving himself a moment to reset his features in a neutral expression, he finished the message and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Raising his glass, he pivoted back towards the room, eyes dark and focused as he let the smooth amber liquid roll onto his tongue.

His name was Jacob Eldridge and he was the CEO of Eldridge Security, the only name in private security that Anvil really had to contest with. Like Billy, Jacob was former Special Forces, and his company was endorsed by several high ranking military officials. He was charismatic when he needed to be, ruthless when he needed to be, and stopped at nothing to get the job done. But unlike Billy, Eldridge inherited his company from his father, simply stepping into the shoes that another man had already worn down to the soles rather than breaking them in himself. Unlike Billy, Eldridge came from wealth, and that gave him an edge among the political elite- money can always sniff out money, and trust flows more easily when the handshake comes with the residual feeling of large sums of cash passing over that palm.

Swallowing the smoky liquid, Billy observed as Jacob fully entered the room, smug smile topping off a perfectly tailored suit. He couldn’t help but notice the flash of silver on the man’s wrist as he extended it to greet another attendee of the fundraiser. New watch. Son of a bitch didn’t waste much time celebrating. Eldridge Security had recently won a bid with a Maryland Senator who had just announced his intention to run for President in the following year’s election, and the Audemars Pigeut that hadn’t been there three weeks ago when Billy had last seen his rival, boasted at least $20,000 of that contract’s earnings. Needs everyone to know he beat me. He set his empty glass down on the dark wood bar top, seething silently to himself. He’s not gonna beat me this time.

The crowd of well-dressed individuals who had gathered in one of New York’s most sophisticated venues was there to show their support for another political candidate, this one for the office of the Mayor of NYC. But there were always secondary motivations in military and government, and Billy knew that Eldridge had been invited to present the mayoral candidate with a bid for a security detail to cover the campaign. He knew because that was the reason that he had been invited as well, and from the research that he did on the potential client, he knew that it was down to Anvil and Eldridge. In the week leading up to the event Billy had sharpened his focus on finalizing this contract, meeting twice with the client to go over some details before the presentation. Eldridge’s facility was based in D.C., so Billy took home turf advantage, wining and dining the interested party, building a relationship that can’t be established over the phone. It wasn’t as large a contract as the one he’d lost that had resulted in Jacob’s new watch, but the benefits of getting his foot in the door of the office of one of the most influential men in one of the country’s most influential cities were profound, and Billy was hell bent on winning this one.

He knew that Jacob hadn't seen him yet, so he continued to quietly observe him from across the wood paneled room. Evaluating a target from afar was nothing new to Billy, and he watched every movement the man made, looking for a crack in the veneer; a sign that told him that Eldridge was nervous about closing the deal, a weakness, something to go after. But Jacob's posture was tall and straight, his chest puffed out before him, the set of his eyebrows and the quirk of his lips giving off an air of self-importance. One hand was wrapped around a tumbler of Scotch, held in front of him as he gestured with it animatedly while he spoke with an old business acquaintance, the other hanging down at his side, not fidgeting, not in his pocket, hiding nothing. There's always a crack, keep lookin'.

Eyes still trained on the enemy, he picked up movement in his peripheral vision, and that’s when he saw you. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you, deep purple dress clinging close to your curves and tear drop shaped diamonds dripping from your ears. Your smile was practiced and plastered on, sparkling just as much as the stones in your jewelry, though clearly only on the surface. Billy watched as you stepped up next to Eldridge, the man barely acknowledging your presence as your fingers found the creases in his suit jacket sleeve, resting in the crook of his bent elbow. You directed your attention to your date, the man’s focus not faltering as he continued to speak to the business contact that he was engaged with. If anything, Billy thought he saw a brief moment of annoyance cross Jacob’s face when your delicate touch made contact with his arm, that theory confirmed when he moved his arm so that your hand fell away. Bingo.

A small smile climbed up one side of Billy’s face as he found the crack he’d been looking for. He continued to watch as your expression changed slightly, a glimmer of frustration showing in your eyes as you pressed your lips together and scrambled for somewhere else to place your hand since you’d been denied Jacob’s arm. He’s gonna tell her to go get him a drink. Billy recognized the arrangement instantly. He knew that there was always more to business than business; he knew that bringing the right date to an event like this could make a good impression, and he knew that bringing someone to one of these fundraisers- unless they were your spouse but sometimes even then- was essentially the same as renting a high end car for the evening, or making sure that your wealth was on display in the form of a new watch. It was all for show. Smile climbing another fraction of an inch, curving maliciously to lift the crest of his cheek almost into his eye, he saw that he was right as Jacob downed the rest of his beverage before turning to you with a forced smile and placing the empty glass in your hand. He made the request of you, sealing it with a tight little kiss to the corner of your mouth. When you turned towards the bar he saw you wipe at the spot where Jacob had kissed you with your thumb, your expression sour.

Billy turned back toward the bar, ordering a glass of water as you reached the dark lacquered bar top. He pretended not to notice you for a moment while the bartender filled his glass with ice, looking in your direction only when he heard your exasperated huff and the sound of Jacob’s glass hitting the wooden surface. He thanked the bartender for his water, taking a drink as you placed your order- a Scotch for Eldridge and a glass of champagne for yourself. You rested your elbows on the bar, another small huff escaping your perfectly painted lips, and that was his cue. “Not enjoying yourself?”

You turned in his direction, and your mixed reaction to his question almost made him laugh. It was clear that your intention was to shoot him with a glare, show him you weren’t interested in whatever he was trying to pull, that you were just there to get your drinks and that your date was waiting for you. But the look died on your face as soon as you laid eyes on Billy’s tall, lean form, casually standing with one hand in his pocket and the other lowering his glass from his lips. He watched, smugly, as you noticed his suit and the way it complemented the taught muscles beneath it, his neatly trimmed beard, and the strong jaw it covered, his dark eyes and the spark of intrigue that they held. Almost more annoyed at your obvious attraction to him than the fact that he’d spoken to you, you rolled your eyes and reached for the fluted glass that you’d been served. “I’m fine, thanks.” You rapped your manicured nails against the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish pouring Jacob’s drink.

Billy took his hand from his pocket and copied your stance, resting his elbows on the bar and leaning down to mitigate the height difference. “Could have fooled me,” he said, tilting his head toward you so that a few pieces of hair fell over his eye, bringing one hand up to tuck it back in place. He watched as you followed the movement of his pale fingers in his dark hair, that inward smirk growing. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t love these things either.” He raised an eyebrow and made a small gesture around the room.

You licked your lips before raising your glass, the bubbles rising from the bottom in a string of pearls. “Well cheers to that, then.”

He clinked his water glass to yours. “Cheers to that.” You took a sip from your glass and he looked over your shoulder to where Eldridge was still talking to his contact. He noticed the slight frown on the man’s face as he finally eyed Billy and measured his proximity to you. ‘Bout time, asshole. “So, what’s a girl like you doing in the lion’s den?”

You straightened up as the bartender passed the second drink across the glossy bar, the amber liquid catching the yellowish light from the chandelier above. “Showing my support, of course.”

Billy nodded. “Of course.” He saw Eldridge shake hands with the man he’d been speaking with before he made his way over to the bar. “And who is it you’re showing support for?” ‘Cause I doubt it’s your date.

“Jefferson, obviously,” you named the client that Billy was hoping to land, the man of the hour, guest of honor at tonight’s festivities.

“Obviously,” Billy repeated with a wink. He was sure he caught your lips quirk up into a smile before they were hidden by the rim of your glass.

A small laugh bubbled forth as you swallowed your drink, and you brought the back of your hand to your mouth to catch any spilled liquid. But before you could respond, Jacob’s hand was on the small of your back, his eyes stern and fixed on yours. “Darling, did you get lost? What’s taking you so long?” He purposefully ignored Billy’s presence, knowing that you hadn’t ignored him at all.

Again, before you could answer, you were cut off, this time by Billy, extending his arm out across you to greet his rival. You’re not gonna ignore me, jackass. “Jake, nice to see you.” He laced venom into the man’s name, knowing that the abbreviated nickname was like nails on a chalkboard to Jacob Irving Eldridge III. He reinforced the proposed handshake with a smile that was made of pure sarcasm.

Jacob turned, acting like he’d noticed Billy for the first time. “William.” He spat the same venom back at Billy, knowing that he despised being called by his full name. “Didn’t see you there.” Yes you fuckin’ did. He gripped Billy’s hand and shook it, abruptly withdrawing his hand, rubbing his fingertips against his palm as though he’d touched something unclean. He turned his attention back to you, speaking your name with an authoritative tone that made your eyes flash. “There’s someone I want to introduce you to.” Drink in one hand, the other firmly clenched around your elbow, Jacob started steering you away from the bar.”

“It was nice talking to you,” Billy said through his smirk as you looked back over your shoulder at him. You responded with a smile and a nod before turning back to Jacob and the hushed admonishment he was giving you for fraternizing with the enemy. He chuckled darkly to himself as he heard you hiss “how was I supposed to know that? You take me to these things and then you shove me off to the bar…”

As he watched Eldridge retreat back across the room to a group of familiar faces, a pair of footsteps came up behind him. It’s time. He took another small drink of water to wet his throat, swallowing it down and turning before the approaching party had time to call out to him. “Mr. Jefferson, how are you this evening, sir?” He waited for Jefferson to close the last few feet of space before holding his hand out in greeting, shoulders squared and charm in full swing.

.. .. .. .. .. .. .. ..

The encounter had been brief, which surprised Billy who had been prepared to dissect every detail of the contract, to ensure every point and explain the execution of every contingency plan. But the outcome had been favorable regardless, Jefferson telling Billy that he’d decided to go with Anvil days ago, that he only needed to invite Eldridge as a professional courtesy. He’d ended the short discussion with another handshake, this one less formal and more comfortable. “Pleased to be working with you, Mr. Russo. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go have a word with Mr. Eldridge.”

Billy was only too happy to excuse him. This is the best part. Eyes trained on Eldridge, he watched as Jefferson approached the man, as the asshole turned to dismiss you, as you made your way back to the bar. Getting the bartender’s attention, he ordered a glass of champagne for you, the pour finishing as soon as you reclaimed your spot on the rail. He licked his lips and offered you a grin. “Welcome back.” Fingers on either side of the stem, he slid the base of the glass over to you.

You threw him a sideways glance, trying to keep up your aggravation but failing the moment he widened his smile. “Thanks, William.” You reached for the glass, but Billy didn’t let go and your fingertips brushed his knuckles causing you to look up, a slight pinkish tint to your cheeks.

“Billy,” he corrected you, “And it’s my pleasure.” He withdrew his hand, keeping his eyes on you as you took the glass and brought it to your plum colored lips, watching as they parted to allow the pale liquid entry into your mouth.

Jefferson’s discussion with Eldridge was taking far longer than the quick decision to choose Anvil, and Billy was relishing every frown and squint he’d caught the man make. He’d been keeping tabs on the conversation that was happening somewhere over your shoulder, grinning to himself as he chatted with you and watched his rival squirm.

“So, Billy, how do you know Jacob?” You asked, eying him from over your glass.

“Oh, Jake and I are” he paused, scrunching his brow to look for the right word as you nearly spit your champagne out at Billy’s continued use of ‘Jake’. “Business… peers.”

“Uh huh…peers.” You rolled your eyes and inched closer to Billy.

He laughed. “Yeah, peers. How do you know him?”

You rolled your eyes again, taking a long sip before answering. He and my brother were in the same fraternity. They love loaning their sisters out to each other.”

Billy raised an eyebrow. “So it’s not serious or anything?” He leaned closer, one eye on Eldridge who had one eye on him in turn.

“Well, you cut right to the chase, don’tcha Billy?” You laughed, but your hand fell on top of his, right where he left it, calculated and precise.

“Yeah. Yes, I do.” He nodded. “And if you’re not serious about Jake over there,” he tilted his head in Jacob’s scowling direction.

You shook yours, your earrings swaying and sparkling. “I’m not.” You pressed your lips together to plump them and then let them fall open.

“Good.” Reading your cues, he turned his hand on the bar over so that your wrist fell into his palm, and used it to pull you closer, your waist sliding along the curved end of the bar until there were only inches between you. He could feel Jacob fuming from where he stood and it only fueled his actions. Get ready to lose again, Jake. “’Cause I wanna try somethin’.”

He dipped his head and brought his free hand up to the side of your face, palm sliding over your cheek and fingers toying with your earlobe as his lips found yours. You made a surprised noise, but didn’t pull away, kissing him back, letting him taste the bubbles that were still on your tongue from your champagne. Your lips were soft as they moved with his, and he enjoyed knowing that they wouldn’t be wasted on Jacob anymore. Billy felt your free hand rest on his shoulder, and he dropped his from your wrist to your waist, daring to tug you even closer. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down briefly before releasing it and pulling away from you. Jacob’s footsteps were coming up behind you as Billy ran his thumb over the spot where his teeth had just been. “That was somethin’, alright,” you said through your stunned smile.

“Russo.” Jacob hissed. “What the hell are you… “ he turned to you and barked your name. “What is going on here?”

Billy simply draped his long arm around your shoulders and faced Jacob with a cold glare. “What’s going on, Jake, is that she’s with me now.” He looked down to you, changing his expression out for a warmer one. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” You swallowed and nodded and he flexed his fingers gently around your arm in a light squeeze. “Why don’t you grab your jacket, we’ll get out of here.” You nodded again and slipped from his grasp, brushing passed Eldridge whose top lip was curled, beady eyes flaming with contempt. Billy smiled after you as you headed for the coat check, waiting for you to be out of earshot before addressing Eldridge again. “She’s with me, Jacob. And so is Jefferson. You lost. And you’re never gonna beat me again.” He took the same path that you had, bumping into Jacob’s shoulder much more forcefully than you had. “Have a nice night, asshole,” he said it low enough so only Jacob would hear, and through a casual smile that anyone would take for friendly.

He left his nemesis seething behind him as he joined you and helped you into your coat, arm winding its way back around your shoulder as he led you out into the night.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @thebbtongue @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek @songforhema @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lysawayne @roses-in-your-country-house @ymariejp @belladonnarey @audreychaz @songtoyou @breanime @luminex3 @stories-you-wont-hear

#billy russo #billy russo x you #billy russo x reader #billy smooches #kiss requests #kiss prompts #a kiss at a party #power #anvil vs eldridge #THE LAST BILLY SMOOCH!!!

[ineffablehusbandsbingo]

About

First of all, welcome to the first Ineffable Husbands Bingo and thank you for showing interested in this challenge! Let me not dilly-dally too much in this post and just get to the point here... which is telling you about the Bingo.

‘What is a Bingo?’ Some of you might ask

Simply said, a fandom Bingo is where you will get a Bingo Card (either a ‘surprise’ card or a customized one - more about this later) and it will be your task to fill out as many squares as possible. In the case of this Bingo, some of the squares will be Good Omens-specific so you can make fandom-related content, but there will also be more generalized ones.

How will this Bingo work?

This Bingo will be just for fun really, so there won’t be any prizes. Nor will there be consequences of any kind if you are unable to black out your card before the deadline comes along - you can fill out as many or as few squares as you want. No pressure at all.

The squares are free to be interpreted however you wish, but this is an Ineffable Husbands Bingo - so please, do have your creations relate to Aziraphale/Crowley in one way or another. Whether romantic or platonic doesn’t matter.

You can use any form of art to fill up your squares. Writing of fanfictions, painting, sketching, crafting, picture manipulation... you name it and you can use it.

“All forms of art should be widely celebrated.”

See rules for more information regarding this all, and press ‘keep reading’ to see the entire post.

When will I be able to sign up and receive my card?

The Bingo went live on the 7th of July. See Time Schedule. Starting that date, you are able to sign up for the Bingo using this post.

Either way, on the time line it will say when sign ups will open. When the time line is posted, the date will be final. On that day I will post the links to both the Customized and Surprise Card sign ups. Sign up forms will be available in the form of Google Forms. When you’ve received your card (which shouldn’t take longer than 72 hours at most. If it takes longer, please shoot us a message), you can begin with creating and posting your work.

About the Surprise Cards

With signing up, you will have the option to sign up for a Surprise Card or a Customized Card. The Surprise Cards are pre-made by myself and are always 5x5 (so 25 squares, including a Free Space). In the sign-up form, you will have the option to choose your card; the squares aren’t shown and only the TYPE of squares will be visible for you. E.g. fluff, angst, smut... you get it. Based off that information, you pick your card.

All squares will come from a Google Sheets form where I’ve written them all down. (Will be linked up at the end of this post) So you are more than welcome to take a look at it so you can have an idea of what to expect on your card.

So you simply select the one with the type of squares you want on your card, and you let fate decide the rest.

Unhappy with some of your squares? You can request me to change up to a maximum of 5 squares on your card until the deadline to do so, but you can do this only once. The squares you will receive in their place will be randomized. If you request a change, we expect you to discard the old card and use the new one instead. If you want to change more than 5 squares, you will simply receive a completely new card.

About the Customized Cards

On to the Customized Cards. With this Bingo, you are able to customize a card of your own where you can hand-pick the squares you want on it yourself - especially recommended for those who don’t fully trust me to pick out their card lol

This customized card can be of any size you want. It can be the standard 5x5 card. But you want to challenge yourself some more? Feel free to request a 7x7 card, or a 9x9 one. Or heck, even a 10x10 card! We have over 200 prompts to choose from - see Google Sheets form linked up at the end of this post.

Don’t think you will be able to complete a 5x5 or a larger card? No worries at all. You can even request cards that are as small as 2x2 with only 4 squares on it, for those who are worried about not having much time on their hands but still wanting to participate in the fun of it all.

Every Customized Card will have a Free Space square on it. Except for the 2x2 card because of its size - unless specifically requested to have it on it.

What if I black out my card before the deadline? Can I request a new one?

Yupyup, of course you can! Cards do need to be completely blacked out for you to be able to request a new one though, so keep that in mind.

How can I contact the mods?

The Tumblr inbox is always open and you are more than welcome to reach us there for any questions/concerns you might have.

You will also be able to reach me on this Bingo’s Official Discord Server (an invite will go out soon after the rules & timeline has been posted). You can also join the Discord server if you’re not participating in the Bingo itself.

We also have a gmail account where we can be reached. No spamming please. It’s [email protected]

How can I keep on track with everything Bingo-related so I won’t miss important announcements?

Keep an eye out for the ‘#mod announcement’ & ‘#ineffable husbands bingo’ tags. Feel free to stalk them to your hearts content. All announcements and other important things will be tagged with those two tags. You can also turn on the notifications for this blog.

It will also help to be in the Discord server. All announcements will be posted there as well.

~~

If you wish to see the prompts for the squares I’ve written down, take a look at this little Doc. All squares I’ve taken for the Surprise Cards come from there, and if you have a square idea for a Customized Card and don’t see it on the list... don’t worry about it! You are free to request it either way and I will probably put it on for you without any issues :)

If you are unable to view the sheet with the squares for whatever reason, please do let me know so I can help you out.

As always, the inbox and asks are always open.

And feel free to reblog.

~Trickster

#ineffable husbands bingo #ineffable husbands #good omens #bingo #bingos #about #mod announcement #admin trickster #fanfiction #fanart #fandom edit #go crowley #crowley #aziraphale #crowphale

[btsqualityy]

BTS Pregnancy Series #12: Baby Shower

Author’s note: so just a quick question. Would anyone be interested in me writing a series for after the babies are born and their first year of life? I have some ideas already written out but I don’t want to commit to it if no one is going to read it. So feel free to leave a comment, an ask, or message me! I hope you guys enjoy this part!

25 Weeks, or 6 months, pregnant

Kim Seokjin

Jin was sitting on the couch in your living room, notepad in hand as he attempted to write some lyrics for the boys’ next album. You jogged down the stairs, eyes widening when you saw Jin on the couch.

“Jin, what are you still doing here?” You asked as you walked over and stood in front of him. 

“What do you mean?” He replied, not even looking up at you.

“Uh, the baby shower is today. Remember?” You said and Jin’s head snapped up. 

“I completely forgot jagiya. I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t intrude,” Jin said as he started to gather his things. He finally looked at you and his jaw dropped, literally.

“What?” You asked.

“You, you look beautiful Y/N,” he smiled, making you blush. You had on a wrap dress that was just tight enough to showcase your growing baby bump. 

“Thanks Jinnie,” you grinned. The doorbell rung and you turned to look at you. “That’s probably both of our moms coming to set up,” you announced. 

“Alright. I’ll be back soon, yeah? Have fun and don’t be on your feet the whole time either,” Jin advised and you nodded in agreement. He kissed you quickly before rushing to the door, greeting your mothers and leaving soon after.

Min Yoongi 

“Thank you so much for planning the baby shower,” you smiled at your best friend as you both started to straighten up your living room. 

“It’s no problem,” she replied. “It’s only the beginning of my god mother duties, right?” You just nodded your head as you gathered up the used paper cups off of the table. After you went to go throw them away, you walked back into the living room to see your best friend holding a small box.

“What’s that?” You asked her as you walked over to stand in front of her. She held it out to you and you took it.

“I figured since everyone else would get stuff for the baby, I’d get something for you so,” she trailed off, motioning for you to open the box. You slowly pulled the lid off the box, gasping at what was inside. There was a necklace inside, a small version of the zodiac sign for Taurus hanging from the chain. 

“Y/BF/N,” you sighed, looking up at her with tears in her eyes. 

“I wanted to get you a necklace with the baby’s birthstone but since you’re due at the end of April, there’s still a chance she won’t come until May. So, I just decided to go with her zodiac sign,” she explained. “Look, I have one too,” she said before pulling down the collar of her shirt, showcasing a replica of the necklace that was in the box.

“I love it,” you smiled, opening your arms and hugging her tightly. “Thank you.”

Kim Namjoon

“Alright, who is this one from?” You asked as Namjoon handed you a gift bag.

“That’s from my mom and dad,” Namjoon told you and you looked over at them sitting on the couch, making sure to nod to them in thanks. You opened the bag and pulled out the cutest pair of footie pajamas.

“These are adorable!” You shrieked, feeling the soft material between your fingertips. “Thank you both so much,” you smiled to his parents. 

Namjoon realized that was the last of the regular gifts from your guests but he knew the boys had something special planned. 

“Boys, we’re all set!” Namjoon yelled, making you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“What’s going on Joon?” You wondered and Namjoon just winked at you. All of a sudden, you heard what sounded like a motor on a car. You looked across the room and saw Tae and Jungkook drive around the corner in a little motorized car. Well, little isn’t the right word because it comfortably fit both Tae and Jungkook inside of it. 

“Guys!” You laughed as you stood up. Tae drove the car over to you and stopped right in front of you. Tae and Jungkook got out as the rest of the boys appeared in front of you. 

“Do you like it noona?” Jimin asked.

“It’s amazing! It’s almost too much!” You chuckled in disbelief.

“Nonsense,” Jin shook his head.

“We know the baby won’t be able to use it until they’re older,” Yoongi said.

“But we couldn’t help but get it!” Hobi giggled.

“It’s so cool,” Jungkook added and you nodded in agreement. 

“I think the baby will love it. Thank you guys,” you said as you went and hugged each member one by one. Namjoon watched the whole interaction with a huge smile on his face, realizing how loved his baby was already.

Jung Hoseok

“Wow,” Hobi gasped as he and your brother walked into the backyard of your brother’s house. 

“Wow is right,” you giggled as you walked over to you. You kissed him softly and he set his hand on your belly, giving his customary greeting to the babies. 

“How many people came to the baby shower?” He wondered.

“Not as many as you’re thinking. It’s just that everyone who came brought something for both Lennox and Berkeley,” you explained. You both looked at the mountain of presents in front of you both. Hobi was wondering how the hell you were supposed to get this stuff back to your house when you suddenly slapped his shoulder.

“Well, you better get started,” you said.

“What do you mean?”

“It’ll take you a few trips to get all this stuff home, Hobi,” you smirked as Hobi’s eyes widened in realization that he was gonna have to get this stuff home alone.

“Y/N-ah,” he called out behind you as you started to walk away. 

“Get my brother to help you,” you advised him. “I’m going to lie down for a while. Your children insist on playing soccer with each other inside of me.”

Park Jimin

“Thank you for lunch Jimin-ssi,” you smiled as Jimin opened the car door for you. After he helped you out of the car, he shut the door behind you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked the path to your front door.

“No problem jagiya,” Jimin replied. “I know you haven’t been sleeping well lately because the baby has been really active so I figured I’d treat you out.” You blushed at his words and set your hands on your belly as he unlocked the front door. After opening it for you, he let you walk inside first and he followed behind you.

“Didn’t we leave this front light off?” You asked as you looked up at the ceiling. 

“Mm, I don’t think so jagi,” Jimin shrugged dismissively. All of a sudden, people popped up from behind anything that would stand still, scaring the hell out of you.

“Surprise!” Everyone yelled, and Jimin flicked on the rest of the lights in the house. A huge banner saying, ‘Congratulations! You’re having a baby!” hung on the wall opposite you and you immediately felt the tears well up in your eyes. Your mom and sister ran over to you, hugging you tightly. 

“Who? What? How did you all do this?” You wondered in disbelief.

“It was all Jimin oppa’s idea,” your little sister smiled and you turned to look at Jimin, who was smiling shyly.

“You did this?” You asked him.

“Well, I know you’ve been struggling with all the changes that the baby has brought lately so I just figured this would cheer you up,” he explained. The tears fell down your cheeks as you instantly walked over to him and kissed him passionately. After a few seconds, you pulled away to see Jimin smiling so hard that his eyes became crescents.

“What did I ever do to deserve a husband as great as you?” You whispered before kissing him again.

Kim Taehyung

“Can you stand still for me Y/N noona?” Jungkook asked you. “Also, can you raise your arms up?” Raising your eyebrows at him, you hesitantly did what he asked, and he slowly expected the width of your baby bump before turning to your mom, who held string in her hands. 

“Don’t tell me you’re playing this game too Jungkookie,” you giggled at him, to which he responded by nodding shyly. Your mom had thought it would be a fun game for everyone at the baby shower to try and measure how big your baby bump had gotten so far but the catch was, they couldn’t actually put the string around you until they had already cut it.

“You know she’s not that big right?” Jimin commented to Jungkook, who’s string was obviously too long. 

“Shush,” he replied, making everyone laugh. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, let’s try them out shall we?” Your mom suggested. You held your hands out to the side as Jimin wrapped his string around your belly. His was too short though. 

“Thanks for the confidence boost Chim,” you smiled. Jungkook was next, and as you all tried to tell him, his string ended up overlapping a lot. 

“Told you,” Jimin laughed. Jungkook just grumbled and walked off with his string.

“Can I try?” You looked up and saw Tae smiling at you, holding a piece of string in his hand. You nodded and he gently wrapped his string around your bump, and it ended up being just right.

“That’s not fair!” Jungkook shouted in outrage. “He sees Y/N noona everyday!”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me because I know the size of my munchkin,” Tae laughed before kissing you softly.

Jeon Jungkook

You threw your pen down on the table, sighing heavily along with everyone else in the room as Jungkook hopped up to collect his prize. You both, along with your baby shower guests, had just gotten done playing ‘Baby Bingo’ and Jungkook won, once again.

“Shouldn’t there be some type of rule against this?” Jin grumbled next to you.

“Against what? The baby’s father participating in the baby shower?” You asked as you set both hands on your belly.

“No, against the baby’s father being the golden maknae and winning every damn game,” Yoongi groaned, making you giggle at him.

“You guys know how competitive he is and it applies to everything. Even baby shower games,” you shrugged. After Jungkook collected his prize from your mom, who was running the games, he came back over and took his seat next to you.

“You know, I can’t believe I originally wasn’t going to come. I’m having so much fun,” Jungkook smiled and you couldn’t help but to do the same.

“Yeah, imagine that,” Hobi muttered, and you kicked him softly under the table. 

“Alright everyone, it’s time for the next game: guess the baby food!” Your mom announced.

“I’m out,” Jimin said. 

“Yeah, me too,” Namjoon agreed.

“Oh, come on guys,” Jungkook said, and all of the members shook their heads. “Y/N,” he whined as he turned to you. 

“Don’t look at me, I’m out too. It’s tiring continuously getting your ass kicked,” you giggled as you stood up. “Let’s go get more cake guys.”

Jungkook pouted as he watched you and the members walk over to the buffet table. However, he couldn’t help the smile on his face at seeing all 7 of the most important people in his life together, along with the 8th person who was inside of you.

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jin #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts rm #bts rap monster #bts suga #bts namjoon #bts yoongi #bts jhope #bts hoseok #bts x you #bts x reader #bts #bts pregnancy #bts pregnancy series #bpbtsqualitypost

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Rewards of Losing:  Chaper 23

Ryou floated. He’d floated before, but this seemed different. There wasn’t any warmth here, but it didn’t feel wrong. If anything, the chill wrapped around him as tightly as the flames ever had. It had waited for him. Now it filled him and flowed along his veins.

There was a hint of comfort nearby – two of them, in fact. He’d never felt that kind of comfort before. Whenever he floated, he’d been aware of Yuuri’s presence. Now Yuuri wasn’t there at all. Ryou tested where the attunement had been and found that it wasn’t there anymore.

No more ties to Yuuri. Two other ties but not very tightly bound to him. He shifted, a whiff of his mind touching the closest one, the one that seemed the strongest.

Kei. He remembered Kei – sleek, strong, black as night, powerful in Healing, dry-witted, and telling him what he’d never wanted to hear and always needed to hear.

Kei. His Healer Cat.

Then he brushed against the other and stirred even more, straining to open his eyes. What was Mizael doing here? Why was that connection there? His heart pounded as he fought to claw his way out of the floating emptiness and back to the real world.

Firm hands touched on his, the hands of a Healer, and his first reaction was to jerk away. Yuuri? Was it Yuuri? Had Yuuri somehow found him? He wouldn’t know anymore, would he? They weren’t attuned. He’d not have that awareness.

But then a voice came. “Calm down. It’s me.”

Oh. Mizael.

Ryou still didn’t know why the other was there – he wasn’t even entirely sure of where there was – but slowly he relaxed, and dragged his eyes open.

He wasn’t in Fusion. He wouldn’t have been in a large tent if he were. He sat up in a cot and slowly looked around. Kei stood a short distance away, watching him with those cool gray eyes of his. And next to him, hands still gently wrapped around his own, was Mizael.

Ryou drew in a breath. He could feel the chill – he’d really done it. He’d become a Frostflame. Firestarter no longer.

A small flicker of pain at that – there weren’t many Healers capable of partnering a Frostflame, who needed the balance even more than a Firestarter did.

“Mizael.” He murmured the other’s name. Mizael nodded.

“You’re awake.” The blond settled back down on the chair he’d rose up from. “I was starting to wonder how long it would take you.”

Ryou slowly settled back and tried to get his thoughts sorted out. “We’re in XYZ.”

“Yes. You and your brother and those two women came over here with Kei.” Mizael regarded him. “Is it your intention to defect to our side?”

Ryou blinked slowly, still not as together as he preferred himself to be. Then he nodded. “I want nothing further to do with Fusion. I’ll fight beside you if you’ll allow it.”

“I don't think anyone will have any problems with that.” Mizael agreed. He tapped one finger against his chin. “But I have a few questions for you.”

Ryou had expected that. “I’ll answer.” He wasn’t going to put any limitations on how he’d answer. Mizael deserved nothing but the truth.

“Why didn’t you come back after the duel?” Mizael wanted to know. Ryou snorted.

“It goes back before that. Two nights before the duel, in fact.” Ryou recalled it in painful detail. “The same night we went out to eat together. I came home and I had a message from home – from Fusion. The invasion would start that weekend. Kei showed up and saw the message. We – had a fight about it.”

Kei’s tail moved back and forth. “You deserved it.”

Ryou wasn’t going to argue that point. He suspected Kei had already told Mizael this but he wanted Mizael to know what he’d done and why. “I did. But after Kei left, I went to Fusion. I wanted to talk the Professor into sparing both of you.” He shook his head. “He refused. You were going to be brainwashed – like I was being but worse. You wouldn’t have remembered anything about your own world – about who you are.”

He stared down at his hands. Where fire would have been flickering over there, now there were slow streaks of ice. He sighed and continued.

“He was going to have Kei carded. I couldn't stand it. I knew – Akaba Leo doesn’t care about anyone but himself and his plans. I tried to get back here but before I could, Yuuri drugged me.” He pressed his fingers together and the ice moved with them. He stared for several long moments before he started to speak again, fascinated by the way the ice clung to him. “When I woke up, I as in my apartment. Yuuri was with me.”

Ryou recounted how Yuuri drugged him, using the Healer’s Voice on him to ensure that he’d not only drink everything he was told but do everything he was told.

“I could feel the ice even then. The Firedamp helped.”

Kei nodded. “You were born to be a Frostflame. It would have happened no matter what.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Mizael agreed. “It doesn’t happen that often but it’s been known.”

Ryou shrugged. “We’ve always been told in Fusion that it’s a perversion of a Firestarter’s power. Frosting over wasn’t allowed.” Again he flexed his fingers. “I’d be carded if I went back anyway. For so many things.” But that didn’t matter. There wasn’t anything there he wanted to go back for.

Then he jerked up. “My deck!” Hadn’t Kei found it? His memories of their last moments in Fusion and first in XYZ were hazy and fuzzy to the extreme.

Kei nodded to something behind him and Ryou turned quickly to see his deck sitting on a small table. There were two other cards next to it, face-down, and he picked them both up curiously.

One he recognized – Cyber Dragon Nova – and the other he didn’t, though it was an XYZ Cyber Dragon.

“Kurosaki Shun brought that over. He heard you play Cyber Dragons and he had that in his collection,” Mizael told him. His lips twitched. “HE hoped that you’d be awake but you weren’t yet. He also wants to duel you once you’ve recovered enough.”

Ryou chuckled a little, reading over Cyber Dragon Infinity’s card text. They are meant to work together. How could this card so clearly be meant to work with his Fusion deck when it was created here, where Fusion had scarcely been heard of before the war?

A long tale that is.

Three voices spoke in unison and Ryou’s head jerked up again, eyes darting this way and that. Mizael eyed him cautiously.

No. Not cautiously. Curiously.

Ryou frowned. “You heard that.” Mizael’s eyes focused on a place that was empty – and so did Kei’s. They saw something that he didn’t.

“You’ve never seen spirits before?” Mizael asked. Ryou shook his head.

“We were taught that they existed and wanted to do battle so we should be fierce warriors to honor them.” Ryou’s lips twisted into a faint smirk. “But I’ve never seen one. I thought it was just something they told us so we’d fight for them.”

“I don’t know about there, but here, spirits are real. I’ve seen them all my life.” Mizael told him. He fished a card out of his deck. “This is Jinlong – he’s my partner. We’ve been together since I was a child. He says even before that, but I don’t remember.” He shrugged. “Anyway, that was Cyber End Dragon. They’re very pleased about you being here.”

Ryou wasn’t sure what to think about any of this. He shook his head and tried to get himself back on track.

“I couldn’t do much after that. Yuuri had a grip on me – we were attuned and he didn’t let me out of his sight while I was awake. I just barely managed to speak out during the duel and he wasn’t happy about it when we got back to Fusion.”

“What did he do?” Mizael asked quietly. Ryou breathed a very deep breath – not quite a sigh but on the edges.

“First he tried to convince me that we’re enemies – when I didn’t want to be anymore. I know we were supposed to be and I acted like it when we first met, because I didn’t know you. But you never acted like an enemy to me. You – were kind. You offered me cards and treated me like a person.”

It sounded ridiculous to him. Words he’d never thought he’d say. Of course he was a person – but Yuuri had always treated him more like a prize he’d won than anything else, and when the prize tried to get away, treated him like a prisoner. Not what he’d ever wanted.

“I offered you the cards because of Kei,” Mizael admitted. Kei licked one paw nonchalantly.

“Of course I did. Because I knew you didn’t want to be part of that place.” Kei’s ears twitched. “I asked Mizael to help me convince you that you didn’t want that either.

Ryou thought he should be upset but he couldn’t bring himself to really be. He didn’t regret anything that had happened – except for what Yuuri and the Professor had done.

“After that, he started to drug me more seriously. The drugs that rewrote my memories.” Ryou remembered what that was like, to trust Yuuri absolutely because he didn’t remember that Yuuri shouldn’t be trusted. His stomach turned and twisted at the thought and he fought it down as best that he could. He swallowed and kept on going. “But Kei and Shou helped me – they cleared all of the drugs out of me.”

Kei’s whiskers twitched. “Your brother’s a lot more talented than he seems. I think once he bonds he’s going to be close to as strong as you are.”

Ryou nodded. He didn’t think he was too surprised about that. Shou had always had hidden depths.

“So I never came back because I didn’t remember that I had anything to come back to. Or anyone.”

Ryou couldn’t quite bring his gaze up to meet Mizael’s. He’d said what he needed to – told Mizael what he needed to. Now he wanted to rest more than anything else.

Kei’s head rested against his. Ryou brushed his fingers gently against Kei’s fur – seeing the way the frost decorated it for a few seconds. It looked so beautiful…

“You are my Frostflame,” Kei told him. “I knew you were as soon as I saw you. Is that what you want?”

Ryou had never choked up about anything in his life. But he had to force the next words through a lump in his throat. “Please be my Healer Cat, Kei.” A single month before he wouldn’t have thought this possible. Now he knew so much better.

Mizael cleared his throat. “I don’t know about in Fusion but here it is possible for a Healer and their partner to be – partners in both senses.” He tried to choose his words. “To be bonded and to be – together.”

Ryou tilted his head, trying to grasp what Mizael was getting at. He thought he knew, but that could only be what Mizael meant, not what he wanted..

Something of his disbelief must have been visible in his expression, since Mizael regarded him with clear annoyance.

“Before all of this, I didn’t want to poach and you weren’t going to cheat, so we weren’t trying to court one another as Healer and Firestarter,” he stated. “But now there’s no poaching and no cheating. You’re a Frostflame. We had a date as two duelists – and two people who might want to date one another. I want to continue that. And more – I want to court you as both a Healer and a boyfriend.”

In all of his years, Ryou had never heard an offer like that. His eyes darted quickly to Kei.

“It has been done here,” Kei agreed. “Chris and Durbe – two of Mizael’s friends – are partnered in both senses. It is considered risky but not unknown.”

Ryou swallowed slowly. “I – can I think about it?” He’d already gone through more than he’d ever imagined today. He wanted to make certain that he made the right choices this time around.

“Of course. The offer is always open, though,” Mizael promised. “But whenever you decide, let me know.”

“I will.”

Part of Ryou already knew the decision that he would make. What other decision could he make? Who else could or would want to bond with a Frostflame?

He just didn’t want to make the decision now, when he couldn’t even get up out of his bed. When he was stronger – when he could look Mizael in the eyes – then he would accept.

Kei nudged him again. “Oh, I suspect that you’re not the only one who will be considering bonding to someone from this world.”

“Huh?” Ryou had started to lay down, wanting to get a bit of rest in. That hadn’t been what he expected to hear.

“Oh, I won’t spoil it for you. But your brother has made at least one good friend here. Once we let everyone know that you’re awake, they’re probably going to come visit.” Kei told him. “Shun isn’t the only one who would like to duel you, I’m sure. Lots of people have been dueling Tenjoin-kun and Himura-kun.”

Yes – he remembered now that Asuka and her friend had come along as well. He would want to see them once he recovered enough. Just what he’d talked about since waking up wearied him. He fought to keep his eyes open for the moment.

“They’re fitting in very well,” Mizael agreed. “Oh, I’m sure Rio would want to come see you as well. She’s a Frostflame too. She’ll probably have a few tricks to teach you.”

It had been a long time since he’d had to take lessons. Seeing the ice that followed his every movement meant that he would need that. At least there would be someone who could help. For now, though, he just nodded.

“Get some rest,” Mizael suggested, a shade to his voice that made it almost an order. Ryou savored not having to obey, to choosing to do so, settling back down on the cot and closing his eyes.

He didn’t float away. But sleep embraced him and he leaned into joyfully.

Mizael wasn’t sure how long it took for Marufuji – for Ryou – to fall asleep. Just as well he didn’t say yes right away. I want to think.

He meant what he'd asked. He wanted to try both bonding and dating. He’d heard good things from everyone he knew who was both bonded to their partner and dating them. Durbe and Chris practically dripped domestic bliss.

But he wanted to think about everything Ryou told him. He wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to go off and find a way to shred Yuuri into tiny little pieces. Not that it wasn’t very tempting… but that was why he wasn’t going to do it.

You should. Jinlong murmured, lounging on the air near him, now in his human form. He’s nothing but trouble. But I don’t know if you could.

“Why not?” Mizael murmured, not wanting to wake up Ryou. He’d more than earned his sleep after all that.

Because he has a dragon’s heart. Dragons don’t die that easily. Jinlong told him. He played with the end of his braid. He reminds me of someone, but I can’t think of who.

That didn't’ clear matters up. Jinlong knew a lot of people. It could be any of them.

“You should go let people know that he woke up,” Kei told him with a nudge of his tail against Mizael’s leg. “His brother will definitely want to know.”

Mizael knew when he was being pushed out. But he didn’t mind that much. He pushed himself to his feet. It would be rather boring just sitting here regardless. Ryou probably wouldn't wake up for hours and he had matters to take care of – such as the aforementioned letting people know that Ryou had woken up.

“Bring something for him to eat, too,” Kei suggested. “His brother would probably know what he would like.”

“I think you want me to talk to his brother,” Mizael replied, letting the tiniest smile touch his lips. Kei swished his tail as innocently as he could and curled up on the cot next to Ryou.

Mizael chuckled to himself and headed outside. He trusted the Cat to guard – their – Frostflame. It might not be official yet but he and Ryou both knew what would happen. Bonds took place between those of equal power and there weren’t any other Healers in XYZ of Ryou’s strength. Not to mention Frostflames were special. Not just any Healer could bond to one. Even in Heartland, a lot of Healers feared Frostflames. Kotori was one of the few that hadn’t been.

Is that why she and Rio get along so well? Because they’re bonded and they love each other? He couldn’t be sure and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask.

Regardless, that was one of the reasons Kei was there. A Healer Cat held no fear of a Frostflame. Not to mention, someone like Ryou needed a lot of balance, more than what one human could give him.

But all of that would be settled later. Now he hurried along to the practice ring where he knew Michael would be this time of day. Shou would be there with him, since the younger Marufuji had developed a positive fascination for watching Michael spar against the handful of other blade-users in Heartland City – at least the handful that remained. A lot of them had ended up carded since the war began.

I should get mine and go up against him a few times, Mizael mused as he walked, touching a few trees and bushes as he did. I could use the exercise.

He did not deny that it would be amusing to do so in front of Ryou. Had Ryou ever seen two swordsmen sparring? He would have to ask. And if he hadn’t – well, then, that boded very well for the future, didn’t it?

To Be Continued

Notes: Yeah, I missed yesterday’s update. Sorry about that but I had a metric ton of things I had to do fall on top of me and eat up all of my energy so when I had time, there wasn’t any drive to post anything, written or not. But I only have two days left so that shouldn’t happen again.

#fanfic #higuchimon writes #ygobb2020 #ygo gx #ygo zexal #ygo arc-v #marufuji ryou #Mizael #yuuri (Arc-V) #chapters: rewards of losing #au: healer firestarter

[gudlyf]

Confirmation [Short Story]

[Edited original photo by Elviss Bitans]

I will never forget the sound Evil made when it died in the Baxter’s house one night in the fall of 1982.

—

The basement of the rectory of St. Ambrose had that smell. The one that appears to be common amongst cellars of houses of the Lord. Of decades-old candle wax and spent wicks, mold-imbued books. Of rotted flowers and palm reeds. That smell. I’d once thought it unique to our chosen parish at the time. It’s not. And any time I happened upon it in some other basement, sometimes in another church, I’d be reminded of CCD.

Some people call it Catechism. I suppose it could have been called Sunday School, except in our town it was held on Tuesday nights. Tuesday School? Not the same ring to it, I’d say. So, CCD. Sounds like some kind of mental condition, now that I think of it. Apropos, if you don’t mind me saying so.

Needless to say, I did not look forward to Tuesday nights.

The last year of CCD for me was centered around preparing for Confirmation. I won’t get into the details of that for you non-Catholics, and to be quite honest I can’t remember what to tell you about it anyway. I suppose it was to “confirm” one’s faith in God and the church. Confirm beliefs. Confirm that you bought the whole damn thing. One of “them.” One of the flock. For me it served only as confirmation that, following that fall, my Tuesday nights henceforth would carry with it only the aroma of glorious, sweet freedom. Thank you God, Hallelujah, Rama-Lama-Ding-Dong, Amen.

Father Jacobs, the presiding priest at the time, did not conduct CCD at St. Ambrose. The old guy would show up from time to time, sure, when he wasn’t busy doing God-knows-what on a Tuesday evening. Probably better off pulling numbered letters out of a bingo cage, really. But for the most part it was just us ten kids and Mr. Baxter.

Of all the teachers I had for CCD throughout the years, Mr. Baxter won the prize for being, shall we say, the most devout. This includes the likes of Sister Estelle, a decrepit, miserable thing harkening from the days of when my own mother attended Catholic school in a neighboring town. No lie, Sister Estelle — or Sister Est-Hell, as we called her — carried a yard stick along her back like a rifle on a cattle rancher. I’ve learned since then that it served more as a bullshit deterrent than anything else. God save the poor soul warranting its unsheathing. Thankfully, I never bore witness to it.

Warren Baxter’s boys, Mark and Jason, attended this particular CCD class along with me and seven others our age. They were homeschooled, so I can’t say any of us knew much about them beyond the walls of that basement, and that the poor bastards had their dad as a teacher. Not just Tuesday nights, but every fucking day. Mr. Baxter sorta reminded me of Christopher Cross. Y’know, “Sailing” and “Ride Like the Wind”? Not to mention he carried a beaten acoustic guitar with him anytime I saw him. He certainly wasn’t an old guy, but he sure had what I guess you could say was an old way of thinking when it came to the education of religion. He had a habit of taking it upon himself to detour from the illustrated Jesus textbooks and remind us of all the things that could make up a mortal sin. You might think that means killing, stealing, raping — that sort of thing. No. He’d remind us weekly that masturbating was a mortal sin that was a sure ticket to Hell. Even thinking about jerking off. It was like you might as well give Satan himself a handy, because, son, it’s just like knocking on his door with that hand.

I guess Mrs. Baxter was a sure help of keeping her husband Heaven-worthy, at least before their divorce.

Mr. Baxter was a parishioner at the church, but he also sang and played guitar at Sunday mass. Considering the limited source material, he wasn't half bad. I’d been taking guitar lessons at the time and knew he wasn’t just some two-bit hack. He played for us a couple of nights at class, which was a welcome reprieve from mundane bible verse analysis, even if it wasn’t exactly Clapton we were listening to. The man dug music; no question of that. And on the second-to-last class of the year, he took it to a new level.

The record player sat in the center of the largest table. Not an odd sight, really. We’d listened to hymns and such before, and even been forced to — dear God — sing along to them. But there was something very different about it this time. Something special. When my eyes caught it, I couldn’t restrain myself.

“Zeppelin!”

Paul Morley, my best friend at the time, saw it too. Led Zeppelin IV, its unmistakable album cover featuring that painting of an old man lugging a bundle of sticks, sat among a few recognizable others. AC/DC’s Highway to Hell. Queen’s The Game. Classics today — purely defining, then. A few kids started in with “Stairway to Heaven” before Mr. Baxter shut them down.

“And she’s buy-uy-ing a-”

“Sit down, everyone. Yes, I’m going to play some of these — just a little. But then I have an important story for you.”

He slipped Led Zeppelin IV out of its sleeve and placed it onto the turntable. Man, I thought, this is gonna be great. I prepared myself for the sweet sounds of Robert Plant, belting out his “Hey hey, mama,” rolling into Jimmy Page on the ax and Bonham on skins. It was already playing in my head.

Instead, we got something else entirely.

Mr. Baxter turned on the player and moved the needle up a bit onto the platter. He put it down a few times, giving us a little tease here and there of what we could have — should have — been listening to in entirety. He finally got to ‘Stairway to Heaven’ and let it play. Sweet release.

About midway through the song, he turned the player off. What is this, another lesson about not beating off? I thought. To 14-year-old me, it may as well have been.

“Now, listen to this.”

We all knew what was going to happen. Playing “Stairway” backwards wasn’t new. And then it all became painfully clear. Zeppelin. AC/DC. Queen? I hadn’t heard about that one yet. But most of us knew of the supposed hidden messages within the latter two, and now Mr. Baxter was going to play them. Here. In the basement of a church.

He spun the record counter-clockwise, slowly, by hand. Eventually he got to the money shot, where Plant’s voice seems to sing out the words “my sweet Satan,” along with some other things that don’t sound so Heavenly when you over-analyze the shit out of them.

But for the playing record, the room was silent. I don’t think we quite knew what to make of it. Mr. Baxter — a guy who’d preached that the simple pleasures of alone time in a long, hot shower was sinful — was playing verses about the Devil. In the Lord’s house! What was next, a Ouija board?

Once he was through with Zeppelin, he went onto Highway to Hell. The album cover alone should have burst into flames the moment it entered the parking lot, but he played it just the same. For a few minutes, singer Bon Scott became Scott Bon. Or maybe it’s Ttocs Nob. You’re supposed to hear something like “my name is Lucifer” somewhere in that backmasked garbage, but all I heard was blasphemy to some wholesome, British-borne rock and roll.

Queen was an interesting one. Played backwards, the lyrics “another one bites the dust” becomes “it’s fun to smoke marijuana.” Oh great, so now that’s evil too? My older brother’s days were numbered.

Mr. Baxter let the chuckles and high-fives among us slide and stopped the turntable.

“Alright. Why did I play these for you tonight?”

I dunno, to thank Jesus these classes are almost over, I thought.

Paula Spencer spoke up. “Because they talk about the Devil…?”

“Not exactly.”

We all looked at each other, clueless. That wasn’t it? Besides Freddie Mercury soloing in reverse about weed, what else was there? And I was sure as shit stinks that Baxter had his fair share of ganja in his days. Hell, at that moment, I was thinking he’d smoked a bowl before class.

“A couple of reasons. First, it’s to make you aware. The things your generation is listening to — on the radio, on records, and tapes — are deceiving you into falling out of love with God.”

“But on the radio, it’s not backwards,” Paul said.

“I don’t even have a record player,” said someone else.

Mr. Baxter shook his head, in that these-clueless-kids sort of way.

“It’s doesn’t matter. You heard it for yourself. It’s still there. And the Devil — he hid it there.”

We learned years ago: you don’t groan at a teacher in CCD. But the restraint in the room was palpable.

“So … Robert Plant … is Satan?” I asked.

“No. He’s just one of many instruments.”

“Like a guitar?” Randal asked. Now that let loose a volley.

“Alright, quiet down. Not like that, no, Randal. I mean they serve the anti-Christ. Though they may not know it. But, because we can play this … music this way, the Devil’s tricks are revealed. And they are in all of the music you’re listening to. All the rock and roll, all the heavy metal. It’s there, and he is trying to use it to deceive you into falling out of grace with God.”

“So … what are we supposed to do?” I asked.

“Stop listening to it. Forwards. Backwards. On the radio, or at home. These are all the new instruments of Evil. And you should shun them just as you would any other mortal sin you’ve learned about in this class. You’ll think you have control over what you believe until it’s too late, and you stop coming to mass. You stop loving Jesus and God and everything else that will bring you to everlasting life in Heaven.”

Well, I was going to Hell. Before he’d finished his bummer of a diatribe, I’d started to think that if everlasting life in Satan’s parlor meant a lot more Zeppelin, Rush, and everything that was candy to my ears, I might just be okay with that.

“The second reason I played these for you — and this is very, very important. You listening?”

Most of us nodded.

“Never — and I mean never — do this on your own. I know it’s tempting — a fun trick to show your friends. But do not do it. I played this here, because we’re safe in God’s house. But at home, or anywhere else, you are not. And the Devil does not like when his tricks are revealed. And he will let you know.”

“How?” Paul asked.

Mr. Baxter pulled out a chair, sat down and leaned in. “I’ll tell you how. Because it happened to me. Mark and Jason can tell you — they were there.”

All eyes were on the two Baxter kids. Their eyes told us that either they were mortified or terrified. After what their father had to say, I’d go with the latter.

“A night a few months ago, Mark was playing one of these records in the cellar at home. I told him what I told you, many times before — none of that music. The work of the Devil. Sins against God. But he couldn't help himself. That’s how it works: You let him in, and he won’t let go.

“So I decided to show him what was hidden in those songs. I did the same thing I did here tonight. I stopped the record, and slowly I began to play it in reverse. And those same, hidden messages were revealed.

“And then … he walked right through the room.”

“Who?” someone asked.

“The Devil,” Jason whispered. In the ensuing silence, you could hear a guitar pick drop.

Mr. Baxter nodded. “He did. A dark figure. Dressed in the darkest cloak I'd ever seen, he passed into the room. No face, just nothingness. Tears were streaming down our faces. We couldn’t move. He glided closer to us, and we still could not move. He stopped just ten feet away from us, and he pointed, right at me. And in a voice I’ll never, ever forget he said …”

He let the sentence hang in the air. This was some real campfire-story shit, and I’m betting I wasn’t alone in hankering for some roast marshmallows right about then. What a showman.

“… ‘No’.”

No? That was it? Not “come with me, you’re going to hell” or “turn it up, man?” I say that now, but to be quite honest with you, I was shitting bricks.

I’d been taught for years every manner of how the grip of evil might drag me down into a fiery pit of doom. You bet your ass I was saying the rosary every night and had a small shrine to Virgin Mary in the corner of my bedroom. Now I was learning that this Satan fella came in a physical form like the Grim-fucking-Reaper if you pissed him off.

I glanced over at the Baxter kids. My look said “this shit real?” Their look was “this shit real.” That did it. After an extra lap around the beads before bed that night, sleeplessness would be unavoidable.

—

The following Sunday morning, I was once again packed hip-to-hip between my mother and brother within our usual pew at St. Ambrose. The usual congregation was there, including Mr. Baxter on guitar, and front-man Father Jacobs. Paul, a four-years-running altar boy, was on the bells with Mark Baxter.

I hadn’t forgotten the story Mr. Baxter told earlier that week. How could he just continue on like that, seeing what he saw? Or worse, what load of horse shit he fed to a mess of God-fearing — and now, for certain, Devil-fearing — kids? I wasn’t sure what was worse: That he went so far as to convince his own boys to play along so convincingly, or that they actually did see something that night.

Paul caught up with me in the parking lot, as the adults meandered around shaking hands with one another and secretly hoping they’d get home in time for football.

“What’s up?”

I shrugged. I had nothing.

“Hey, I talked to Mark earlier. About what his dad said.”

“What, about masturbating?”

He pushed me. Hard. I guess I deserved it.

“That Devil shit.”

“Paul! We’re still at church!” Paul’s mother hissed from somewhere in the crowd. That woman could hear a hummingbird fart in a bison stampede.

“It’s the parking lot, Mom! God, relax.”

If I’d talked to either of my parents the way Paul did, all the prayers in the world wouldn’t protect be from the sure evil that would ensue. The Devil would walk right in and applaud. But Paul’s exposure to the dictionary from Hell came from none other than his own mother’s mouth, and with certain regularity. I became fluent in the language by the time I was eight, from weekly summer sleepovers at the Morley house.

“He still swears it’s true.”

“You make him swear to God?”

Paul laughed. “No. But he’s not changing his story. Said a big person in a cloak sorta floated into the room, and then back out again.”

“What did he sound like?”

“I dunno. I didn’t ask him. Probably like ‘STOP THAT SHIT NOW!’”

His impression sounded more like Froggy from The Little Rascals than some dark being from the netherworld. Come to think of it, that would be pretty terrifying. Would someone please get that poor boy a cough drop, for God’s sake?

“Paul!”

“Sorry, Ma. I tried it, y’know. The record thing. Nothing happened. It’s a bunch of buuuuull shit.”

“Well, duh, yeah. You thought it was real? Creepy story, but no way is that gonna really happen. He was just trying to scare us. Don’t you think we’d hear of it happening to someone else already? I did it at my cousin’s house a few months ago.”

“What happened?”

I gave him a look that told him that his stupid question was going forever unanswered.

Paul pointed to the parking lot behind me. “Look, there he is.”

Mark Baxter was still clothed in his altar-boy whites, carrying his father’s guitar case to their station wagon. Paul gave me a nudge and started in his direction.

“Hey. Mark.”

Mark was a quiet kid, but not shy. More of a rebellious sort, I guess you could say. If he’d been in traditional school like the rest of us, no doubt he’d be one of the “cool kids” who took no shit from anyone and gave a pile of it to the teachers. There were few occasions you’d see him without bruises or a black eye, a sure sign he hadn’t backed down from trouble. It was that attitude that made the story he was holding onto so compelling.

“What’s up? Hey Keith.”

I held up a hand in greeting.

“Swear to God that story is true,” Paul said. The equivalent of a religious double-dog dare.

Mark shut the rear door and leaned against it.

“I’m not doing that. You know I won’t do that.”

“So it’s a bunch of buuuuull-”

“I don’t care if you won’t take my word for it. It’s what I saw.”

“How come it never happened to Keith? He said he did it at his cousin’s house, and nobody creepy came drifting through the room. Except maybe his Aunt Helen. Sorry Keith, she’s, like, a witch or something.”

Mark shrugged. “I guess you’re lucky. Maybe it’s the house.”

Paul seemed to back down at that. Then the wheels started to turn.

“Let’s do a sleep-over, then,” he said.

“A … sleep-over? What are we, ten?”

“Well then just have us over at night. Your dad’s got the records already. We just play them in the same room, on the same record player. If the Devil doesn’t show up, then it’s a bunch of crap.”

Mark’s cool demeanor warmed at that. “My father really doesn’t like people over. And it’s not a bunch of crap.”

“I wanna see for myself. So do you, right, Keith?”

I did my best to hide my real answer to that one. Instead, Mark did the honors.

“No. You don’t. And I don’t either.”

“Psssh. B.S. Whatever.”

Paul turned and walked away. I gave another silent wave to Mark before taking off as well.

—

I was only just getting ready for bed when something rapped against my bedroom window. It was early, but it was a school night, and I knew just who it was.

I opened the window to Paul’s shit-eating grin.

“Let’s go.”

“Now? Where? It’s a school night, man.”

“Baxter’s.”

“What, Mark wants us over? I thought his dad wouldn’t let us.”

“We’re just gonna go visit. Come on.”

I shut the window in his face. Paul kept right on talking.

“If you don’t come out now, I’ll go knock on your parents’ window and tell them you called me over.”

I flung the window back open.

“No you wouldn’t. And they’re not even in bed anyway.”

“Fine, then I’ll go knock on the door.”

He wasn’t bluffing. He’d done this to me before, and my folks fell for his Eddie Haskell routine every single time, hook line and sinker. As usual, Paul was going to get his way. I, as usual, was not.

—

The Baxter house was walking-distance away, but since Paul had his bike with him, I took mine as well. There’s something about walking while someone rides circles around you that feels a bit degrading.

We threw our bikes onto the Baxter’s lawn. I headed for the front door, but Paul started around the back.

“Where are you going?” I said.

“Mark’s window.”

“Jesus Christ! He doesn’t know we’re coming?”

“Nah. You heard him. He wasn’t gonna have us over. So we’ll just come over.”

I really should have made for my bike and headed back home. I started to weigh the punishment I’d get from my parents due to Paul’s threats against Mr. Baxter’s wrath, should we knock on the wrong window. Once I got home, Paul would make good on what he said, I’d be grounded for a week — and more — and the process would repeat until he got his way. I thought it better to see it through and put an end to Paul’s obsession right then.

None of the shades were drawn in the Baxter’s single-story ranch, and we found Mark hanging out in one of the rooms alone with its door shut. The lights were on and he was laying in bed, sort of huddled in a ball, back to the window. He was still clothed and clearly not sleeping. I tried to convince Paul otherwise.

“He’s sleeping. Let’s go.”

Paul ignored me and gave the window a knock.

Mark sprang up from the bed and turned to the door.

“I- I’m just praying, Dad. I promise.”

Paul knocked again. Mark stiffened, snapped around, and was greeted by Paul’s smart-assed wave. My look said, “I know. I’m sorry. What can ya do, it’s Paul.”

The window unlocked and opened.

“What are you doing here?”

Mark licked at a cut below his lip, and his face was sunburn-red. Always meeting trouble.

“Man. Who’d you fight this time? Did you finally fight Felix?”

“Maybe I’ll fight you for coming here knocking on my window. What do you want?”

“Play us the records.”

“Go play them yourself.”

“We wanna see what you saw. Come on.”

“You really don’t.”

“Just let us in. If you don’t, I’ll just go knock on the door and tell your dad you called us over.”

Right from the Morley playbook.

“No! Just … Fine. Meet me at the back by the bulkhead.”

Mark lowered the window. Paul was already on his way to the back of the house, but I watched Mark push his bedroom door open carefully, looking around before edging himself into the hallway, and pushed the door shut without a sound.

The bulkhead was a rusty, two-door entryway set into the house’s foundation. A few minutes passed before the inside latch was screeched open like a prison lock, and one of its doors creaked open. I could barely make out a person standing in the dark. I sure as Hell hoped it was Mark. Paul nudged me ahead of him. Either his night sight was better than mine and he was sure of who it was, or he just as blind and I was his shield.

“Get in,” Mark whispered.

The bulkhead led into concrete-floored basement, pitch black but for a crack of faint light from beneath a closed door. The smell of mildew and machine oil was unmistakably workshop-ian. I confirmed this when I bumped into what I figured was a long workbench. A few tools clattered onto wood and clanged against the floor.

“Shhh! My dad’s room is right above here.”

“Where’s Jason?” I asked.

“He’s staying with my mom.”

Mark opened the door into a finished part of the basement. All was dark but for a single lamp on an end table against a torn couch. Grey berber carpeting covered the floor from wall-to-wall, stained in the corners with water damage. French drains were always an afterthought back then, and not one easily or cheaply rectified. An old pool table took up the place of honor, consuming most of the room. Against one wall a Radio-Shack-brand Realistic stereo. Of course, it had a turntable.

Mark shut the door behind us as quietly as he had his bedroom door.

“We’re under the living room here. We should be okay.”

Paul already had the turntable cover off and was flipping through the sleeved albums stacked vertically beneath it.

“Which one did you play when you saw that thing?”

Mark hurried over and pushed Paul aside.

“Get out of there! My dad has them all organized. He’ll kill me if we mess it up.”

Marked pulled an album from the shelf and looked at its cover. Admiring it? Fearing it? One couldn’t tell.

“This one.”

“In this room, right?” Paul asked.

Mark nodded.

“Where did he come from?”

Mark pointed to an opening without a door. “The laundry room.”

“At my house, that’s where my dad keeps his booze,” I said.

“Are you sure it wasn’t just your mom?” Paul said.

“What? No! My parents are divorced, stupid.”

“So maybe it was your mom.”

Mark said nothing, but the seething in his posture was palpable. At that moment, I felt sorry for both of them.

Mark eased the platter out from the sleeve and placed it on the turntable, then turned the receiver on. He grabbed the needle and halted before placing it down.

“I don’t think you want me to play this backwards. It ruins the record, anyway.”

“No, we want you to play disco so we can dance,” Paul said. “Just play it. I want to see the Devil you said you saw.”

I finally spoke up. “But what if-”

“But what if what?” Paul snapped. “We see him and he tells us ‘no’ again? So what. Then we know and we won’t do it again.”

Mark looked back at us both, then placed the needle down. He seemed to know just where it had to go.

“This can play the record backwards on its own. I don’t need to do it by hand.”

He flipped a lever on the turntable and stepped far away, eyes not leaving that laundry room door. At first, seconds of silence, but for the popping and crackle of worn vinyl, then the speakers came to life. Sure enough, the words of Robert Plant from Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven” began to blast in reverse. I was caught off-guard at how loud it was, on account of Mark’s fear of alerting his father to the goings on. It caught Mark by surprise as well.

“Shit!”

Mark stumbled to the stereo. Someone stood in the doorway to the dark laundry room.

Mark froze. We all did. Satan had come. And then he spoke.

“What did I tell you.”

We said nothing. I felt the urge to run, but my legs were no better than bowling balls on Twizzler sticks. Paul backed up and was stopped short by the pool table. The record kept on playing.

“What. Did. I. Tell. You!”

Mark spoke. “N- No?”

“No! Nobody over! Nobody!”

Mr. Baxter stepped into the room. He was seething. He was nothing like I’d seen him before. And he was clearly loaded.

“And are you … are you playing that again?! After what happened last time?!”

“Dad? I … I’m sorry. They just showed up. I didn’t know-”

“Shut up! You two, get out of here the way you came!”

Through this all, the record continued to play, but all I could hear was Mr. Baxter’s rage.

“And you! Get over here!”

Paul and I turned tail and blasted through the door into the workshop. Paul shut the door behind him.

“Holy shit! His dad is … he’s crazy! Let’s get the hell outta here!”

For once I was willing to following Paul’s lead. As the bulkhead lock slid open, I heard Mr. Baxter’s anger turn up to eleven, while Robert Plant carried on.

“How many lessons do I need to teach you, Mark?! Another one?! And another?! I guess it’s time for one more! Come here!”

Mark started to cry. “No, Dad. Please.”

I couldn’t move. I knew that plea all too well. To leave, or stand idly by, knowing what was sure to come next, would be as damaging as what that bastard was about to do.

“What are you doing? Let’s go!” Paul said, and then flew out into the yard.

I turned and opened the basement door. Mr. Baxter had Mark pinned against the wall by the stereo, his arm cocked back with a fist. The record skipped. I’d say it was comically timed to my entrance, but the situation was anything but.

I’ve carried on a lot about how strange Mr. Baxter was. How he seemed to thrive on using the fear of damnation as a demented teaching tool, to kids who had been taught throughout their lives that Hell was no place to wind up. Throughout lessons failing in everything but illustrating the absurdity of it all, he had been kind. He had been patient and good. A seemingly willing volunteer to God. In that moment, the fog had lifted. Like with the ridiculous things he preached, he had fully veiled the truth of himself.

Mr. Baxter’s head snapped in my direction.

“I thought I told you to-”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. My breath caught in my chest. My eyes were no longer looking at Mr. Baxter or Mark. The anger that had blazing within them turned to absolute terror, trained on the open laundry room door.

The being floated into the room.

Mr. Baxter dropped his arm and flattened himself against the wall next to his son. The record played on.

Tattered dark brown robes draped over what was mostly human-shaped, drifting about it within a nonexistent wind. Swirls of debris and filth floated within the gaps of the cloth. Though they could have been flies, as the sounds of Led Zeppelin seemed drowned out by a skittering, hissing sound that bordered on radio static. There was no face, no real body parts at all. Just a thing. I would say it stood about seven feet tall, but that wouldn’t be quite accurate. Because the best I could tell, it was floating. The thing drifted closer to the Baxters. Mark continued to cry. Mr. Baxter looked as though he might start. Neither one said a word.

A long piece of the thing’s robe lifted, as though carried by an arm that wasn’t there, pointing, at the abusive wretch against the wall. It spoke.

“NO.”

Mr. Baxter broke down and slid to the floor. His mouth moved the words of “Our Father,” though I couldn’t hear him over the hissing, the music, and the throbbing in my head.

Mark didn’t follow suit. Instead, he ran over and stood beside me.

“NO,” it hissed again.

“Please.”

“NO.”

“No. I know. I know,” Mr. Baxter whimpered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know you said no. I won’t do it again. I won’t do it again. I won’t!”

“COME.”

The specs floating within the swirl of robes darted to where Mr. Baxter lay huddled on the floor. There was no music, only the sound of what had begun to consume Mark’s father within a cloud of black, black which became solid, almost gelatinous and liquid. He screamed as the mass took over the man’s shape, writhing on the floor in what appeared to be pure agony.

The screams became grotesque, muffled gurgles before ceasing as abruptly as the thing had appeared in the laundry room doorway. Mark turned his face away. I still couldn’t move at all.

I have no idea how much time had passed before what had overcome Mr. Baxter once again became a cloud of airborne debris. On the floor, only another stain to match those in the corners of the room, filling the room with the odor of stale urine. As though called back to their master, they drifted to where the robed thing hovered, wafting about it as they’d done before.

It didn’t go back into the laundry room. Instead, it was just gone. Just as was the music. Just as was Warren Baxter.

—

Outside, I wasn’t at all surprised to see Paul and his bike long gone. I’d been inside with Mark for a long while after what had happened. He was a raw mess, as anyone would be. I helped him give a call to his mother, who lived about an hour away. I stayed for about that long before walking my bike home — I was in no condition to ride.

“I’ll say he just left me here,” Mark said. “Nobody would believe me if I told them what really happened.”

“What about his car?”

“He walks a lot. Usually to the bar down the street. They’ll believe that. I know Mom will.”

I could tell you I was terrified, walking that stretch of road alone late at night, after what I’d seen. In truth, I was relieved. For so long I was told of mortal sins I thought frivolous as being the true path to Hell. That simple “impure thoughts” would destine me to a horrible eternity only a young, teenage boy could imagine. How could such things measure in defiance of all that is good to the monstrous acts of murder, or of rape, or of beating one’s own child? There was a comfort in knowing that once the Devil truly is in someone, he comes looking for that piece of him to take home.

—

My house was in complete darkness. I threw my bicycle into the garage and entered through the back door, into the kitchen. At that hour, I was sure everyone was asleep.

“Where’ve you been?” It was my father. The son of a bitch was standing in the doorway from the basement, in the dark. Ice cubes tinkled from his highball glass.

“I … was just putting my bike away.”

“No. You were out. All night.”

“Dad, I-”

“Get in your room.”

There was no point in carrying on. I did as he said and shut the door behind me.

It was a school night, but I wasn’t about ready to sleep. Sleep, I knew, wouldn’t come at all. Not after the Baxter’s. Not after Dad. It would be another day of looking tired, looking terrible. All under the guise of looking tough.

“What are you doing?” I heard my mother ask from down the hall. “What time is it?”

“Your son. I’m getting my belt.”

“Steven, no…”

I turned on the small stereo in my room. Led Zeppelin IV was already mounted on the turntable, affectionately played countless times in the past as I fought to sleep through a shroud of tears and pain.

I placed the needle down, and as the door to my room opened, I began to turn it counter-clockwise by hand.

#the nosleep podcast #nosleep #horror #short story #short fiction

[marvelous-imagining]

100

Summary: Bucky’s having a bad day on his birthday and his teammates keeping him from going back home isn’t helping at all. What he doesn’t know is that his teammates are planning a surprise for him.

A/N: Okay so in this imagine the team all lives in the Avengers Tower, just go with it, yeah? This is not a request but I wanted to do something special for Bucky’s 100th birthday. Originally this was supposed to be written without a reader but well, now there’s a reader. Hope you like this imagine! Also, FYI, I opened my ask box again but REQUESTS ARE STILL CLOSED. If you want to say/ask something anonymously, now you can, again.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Words: 3,827

Warning: just fluff, UNEDITED so there might be some mistakes

I decided to write this because I just can’t stand the thought of Bucky spending his 100th birthday in cryo (which is probably where he is right now *sob*). He deserves the world and he deserves to be loved and well, at least Steve loves him. Other people may need some time to warm up to him but let’s hope for the best. So, here’s a little fluffy imagine celebrating Bucky because he is an amazing person who has gone through torture who still takes the blame even though he shouldn’t. He’s a person who cares about other people, a person who does not wish to harm anyone, make anyone feel pain. He has a big heart. Here’s to the one and only James Buchanan Barnes.

Walking along the streets bright and early on a Friday morning, Bucky looked around, seeing people rushing to the bus stop, driving past with their cars just to get to work. Everyone looked quire stressed and in need of a break. They had only a day to muster some work before they could relax and ease into the upcoming weekend.

Bucky was walking slowly, watching people pass by him with grunts or sighs of frustration leaving their lips. He felt like he was in the way, felt like he was making everyone’s lives harder just by being there, walking among the hardworking people.

He adjusted his cap and shoved his glove covered hands in his pockets and continued his way to… Well he didn’t have any destination in mind. He just liked walking around, getting some fresh air. He would have done his walking earlier but he had been told to sleep in since it was his birthday. Not just any birthday, his 100th birthday.

One hundred years was a long time but it felt even longer for Bucky who had been under mind control most of that time. He had been trapped inside a body made into a weapon, a killer. So many years the James Buchanan Barnes from the forties had been trapped inside that mind, never let out.

Bucky had been so deep in thought that he had crashed into someone, earning a low growl and a look that could kill from a woman who had dark circles under her eyes. She brushed past him quickly, not letting him have the chance to apologize which he was about to do.

Bucky huffed and started walking again. He stepped into a coffee shop that he always passed by on his daily walk. He got in, seeing the long lines to the counter and stood there, waiting patiently. He took a look around the coffee shop, seeing only a few people sitting at the tables. Most of the people went straight out of the door after buying their coffees in the hopes of waking up a bit more before getting to work. Bucky on the other hand was just walking around, he had been told not to worry about anything and just relax, enjoy his birthday.

Bucky found it hard to enjoy the day, he hadn’t been awake for more than an hour and he was already feeling like the day wasn’t going to get better. He got in a bad mood just by being around all the strangers who were stressed and tired, frustrated from running late or having to go to work after a long week of working hard in whatever job they had.

After several minutes of waiting in line, Bucky got to the cashier who also had a sour look on her face. “Morning, what can I get you?” The cashier asked with a monotone voice.

Bucky looked at the menu, “Hmm, let me think.” He said, thinking about all the suggestions he had gotten from people.

He noticed the cashier tapping her manicured fingernails on the counter impatiently as she rolled her eyes. Bucky also heard the person behind him let out a small groan. He then sighed. “Just a black coffee, thanks.” He muttered, grabbing a five dollar bill from his pocket.

The cashier nodded and soon she was handing Bucky his coffee, saying the prize and grabbing the bill from Bucky, handing him back the change. “Have a nice day.” She said with the same bored tone she had while greeting him.

Bucky went over to a table in the corner of the coffee shop and sat down, looking out of the window as he sipped on his coffee, nose crunching up slightly at the strong taste.

He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket and he took it out, checking to see who was trying to reach him. A small smile spread on his lips as he saw the familiar name on the screen.

Y/N

He unlocked his phone, checking the message you had sent him.

Hey, Buck! Hope you’re having a fun walk. Don’t be out too long, though. I have something for the birthday boy.

Bucky smiled as he looked at the message before typing a quick test back, telling you he’d be back soon. He finished his coffee before getting up and exiting the coffee shop.

Stepping out of the elevator, Bucky started making his way to his room only to walk past the kitchen, hearing your familiar humming coming from there. He peeked his head in, seeing you at the stove, swinging your hips to the song you were humming.

He cleared his throat, making you stop swaying and turn to look at the door. “Bucky!” You said excitedly. “How’s the birthday boy?”

Bucky shook his head and smiled, leaning on the wall. “Same as always.”

You smiled, turning back to the stove, flipping a couple pancakes on a plate, adding some maple syrup and a few strips of bacon to the side before turning around to face Bucky again. You held the plate in front of him. “I made these for you.”

Bucky looked down at the plate, brows furrowing in confusion. He took the plate from you and smiled although he still looked a bit confused.

“Happy birthday.” You said quietly. You bit your lip and took a small step forward, placing your hand on his shoulder. “Hope it tastes good.” You said before stepping out of the room.

Bucky was left flabbergasted by your sudden exit. He then shrugged and went over to the table, sitting down and eat his breakfast in peace.

He was just about to start eating when he heard someone come in the room. He looked to the door and saw Sam walking inside. “Hey, Sam.” Bucky said, earning a small nod from Sam who made his way to the cupboards. “You want some pancakes?”

Sam closed the cupboard slowly and looked at Bucky suspiciously. “What did you put in them?” He asked, raising a brow. “Poison? Some of that Asgardian liquor?”

“Nothing. Y/N made these and left some on the stove.”

Sam then shrugged and took some pancakes himself.  "So… You have any plans for today?“

Bucky shook his head. "Haven’t really celebrated a birthday in a couple decades, don’t really see the point.”

“Really?” Sam questioned. “You’re turning 100 and you have no plans? Not a bingo game or anything.”

Bucky sent a glare in Sam’s direction. “Yes, I’m technically 100 but biologically I’m 30 so no bingo for me, thanks.”

The two then continued to chat this and that as they continued eating their breakfast. They were just about to start bickering again as you peeked your head in the room. “Hey, Sam. Can I talk to you for a second?” You  asked, motioning for him follow you out of the kitchen.

“Can I eat first?”

“It’ll take just a second, I promise.”

Sam huffed, nodding and stood up from the chair, going out of the room. You thanked him silently and looked at Bucky, smiling. “Is it good?” You asked, referring to the food.

“It’s great, thank you.” Bucky said with a sincere smile.

Your smile grew and you looked down at the ground, pulling your head back behind the doorway to hide your face as you shook off the flustered feeling, thinking Bucky wouldn’t notice although he did. You then waved him goodbye and was gone in a second.

Bucky finished up his pancakes and went to put his plate in the dishwasher. Just as he was about to leave Sam rushed back in the room. “Hey, wanna go for a run?” He asked, making Bucky look up at him in surprise.

“We just ate.” Bucky stated. “And you have some food left.”

Sam was quick to grab the left of the pancake in his hand and began eating it while pushing Bucky out of the door. “Come on! Let’s go.”

“Why are you in such a rush?” Bucky asked, getting a bit irritated by the sudden change of mood.

“Just getting pumped up, don’t worry.” Sam said and finished up with the pancake and started jogging towards the elevator, Bucky following behind.

Bucky let out a groan as he watched Sam crawl over to the nearest tree and he sat down on the ground, resting his back against the trunk. He was breathing heavily and holding his sides while Bucky was standing next to the tree without any sign of exhaustion. He placed his hands on his hips and looked down at the breathless man in annoyance.

“Sam, let’s just go back.” He said, seeing Sam shake his head. “Look at you, you’re about to pass out!” He exclaimed.

“No,” Sam said with a hoarse voice. “No, I can still run.” He said and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the tree. “Just give me a second.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Let me go get you some water.” He muttered out and went over to a store nearby, buying two bottles of water before going back to Sam who was still sitting on the ground but he had his phone on his ear.

Bucky narrowed his eyes as he walked up to him from behind the tree, out of Sam’s view. He listened closely at the conversation. He thought he had the right to eavesdrop since Sam had been acting weirdly all day. He was growing more and more suspicious.

“I can’t run anymore!” Same yelled out to the phone. “I’m going to die if I run another lap with him. He doesn’t get tired at all. Goddamn super soldiers.” He muttered through gritted teeth. “When can we come back?”

Bucky cleared his throat and tossed Sam a bottle of water. He looked down at Sam who said quick goodbyes to the person on the other side of the line and put his phone away, taking a big gulp of water.

Bucky held his hand in front of Sam who grabbed it. Bucky pulled Sam off the ground and patted his back in a sign of comfort. “Okay, time to go back.”

Sam shook his head. “No, let’s go for another—”

“Sam, what’s going on?” Bucky asked with a demanding tone as he crossed his arms. “Why can’t we go back?”

Sam just shrugged and turned around, sprinting only to stop after a few steps. He held onto his knees, feeling lightheaded from all the running. He let out a long sigh after catching his breath and turned around, admitting defeat. “Okay, let’s go.” He mumbled as he headed back.

Bucky noticed Sam texting on his phone, tilting his screen away from Bucky just so he couldn’t see. The metal-armed man was starting to get annoyed again just like earlier in the morning while he was just walking around. When he had gotten back from the walk, his mood had immediately been lifted when you had given him breakfast and wished him happy birthday. Just small things like that really could make his day, especially when you did them since he had a bit of a soft spot for you.

But all that was thrown out of the window when he realized Sam was definitely hiding something from him and keeping him from going back home and just relax as he had been told to do.

Bucky kept quiet the whole walk back, noticing Sam glancing at his phone every few seconds, probably checking for new text messages. Bucky didn’t want to pry so he kept his mouth shut and just walked silently next to Sam.

They got back in no time and entered the building only to have Steve rush out of the building. “Hey, Bucky. Wanna grab a cup of coffee?” The blonde asked while making his way to Bucky who had a confused look on his face.

“I had coffee a few hours ago.”

“A run?”

“Where do you think I’m coming from?” Bucky asked in annoyance, gesturing to his athletic wear.

“Bowling?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Steve, I just want to go in—” He stopped, thinking about Steve’s offer. “You know what, bowling sounds kinda fun.” He shrugged.

“How come we haven’t gone bowling before?” Bucky asked as him and Steve exited the bowling house.

“I don’t know.” Steve shrugged. “Next time we should all go bowling.”

“Yeah, that would be fun.” Bucky nodded. “Hey, I have a question.”

Steve nodded, “What is it?”

Bucky turned to look at Steve and sighed. “Why do you keep me from going back home?”

Steve gulped but kept his gaze in the road ahead of him. “We’re going home right now.”

“Well, yeah but earlier when I wanted to go back you didn’t let me.” Bucky pointed out. “Sam almost passed out trying to keep me from going back!” He exclaimed.

Steve sighed and turned to look at Bucky. “You’ll understand when we get back.”

Bucky frowned but decided not to ask any further questions. He still glanced at Steve suspiciously every once in a while. He swore he could have seen a drop of sweat falling falling down the side of Steve’s face. He was nervous for some reason and Bucky had no idea what was going on.

The two got to the tower in no time and went into the elevator, going up to the floor both of their bedrooms were on. Steve was the first one to rush out of the elevator, bumping his shoulder with Bucky’s on accident. Bucky soon followed suit and exited the elevator only to be met with a chorus of “Happy birthday!”

Bucky was stunned, taken aback by the exclaims of his teammates. He took a second to look around, seeing many different colored balloons around along with a happy birthday sign hung on a wall behind his teammates who had big smiles on their faces.

“Wh-what is this?” Bucky asked, looking each teammate in the eye. “Is this why you kept me out all day?”

“Yeah, we needed time to set all this up.”  You shrugged and sent him a sheepish smile.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile. “You really did all this for me?” He asked, seeing some people nod. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank us. Y/N here,” Natasha started and placed her hands on your shoulders from behind, “planned all this and made sure everyone was perfect before you came back.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you blushed and turned to look at the ground in front of you to hide your face from him. Bucky did see the look on your face, though and his smile widened. “Really?”

You nodded, “Just thought you should have something special for your 100th birthday.” You said with a shrug and lifted your gaze up to his. “I mean you’re hitting triple digits! That’s a big deal. Not many people live to be this old.” You teased, chuckling.

“So you kicked me out on my birthday?” Bucky teased back.

You rolled tour eyes and took a step forward. “Oh, shut up, I did a nice thing for you!” You laughed and walked over to him, opening your arms, inviting him in for a hug.

Bucky gladly accepted the hug and wrapped his arms around you as he felt your arms around him and hugged you tightly. “Thank you so much.” He whispered in your ear.

“Don’t thank me yet.” You whispered back and pulled away from him, moving to stand next to him. “We got a cake.”

Bucky turned his attention back to the others and saw a cake with about one hundred candles on it. He shook his head, sighing before letting out a chuckle which made you laugh. “I made sure there was exactly one hundred candles on it.”

“Yes, I know how it’s important to you to keep reminding me how old I am.”

You nudged his shoulder with yours and sent him a playful glare before pushing him towards the cake.

He looked down at the cake that was covered with lit candles, the cake underneath it was barely visible at all when looking from above it. He was just about to blow out the candles but Thor stopped him.

“Wait,” his loud voice boomed. “Don’t you mortals have a song you sing when wishing someone a happy birthday?” He asked.

“You mean… The Happy Birthday song?” Clint asked.

Thor nodded. “Shall we sing?”

Bucky shook his head and as he was about to protest, he heard his teammates singing to him. He rolled his eyes, listening to the song patiently, smiling sheepishly as he waited for it to end. When it did, he went on to blow out all the candles at once.

“100 candles in one blow?” You asked, raising a brow. “That’s impressive.”

Bucky then cut out a piece of cake while everyone else did too. You all sat down in the lounge and just spent some time with each other, chatted this and that, asked Bucky what his favorite memories from 100 years were. Somehow the fact that he was 100 just kept coming up in conversation.

As Bucky watched his teammates talking, telling jokes and laughing with one another, he couldn’t help but smile. All those thoughts he had in the morning just suddenly vanished. He didn’t feel like he was causing trouble to his friends, he didn’t feel alone like he did in the streets, he felt… loved.

He realized the people who he was surrounded by actually cared about him enough to throw a surprise for him, even though it was just a small one. That’s how Bucky preferred it to be. He didn’t want fancy parties with hundreds of people. All he needed was his close friends and a relaxing get-together with them.

He looked to his side, seeing you right next to him, laughing at something that Sam had told you with your mouth still full of cake. You covered your mouth and pursed your lips, afraid of spitting food all over yourself. You calmed yourself down before looking at Bucky, feeling his eyes on you. “What?” Your smile turned into a confused look.

Bucky shook his head, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Thank you. For all this.” He said as he looked around the room, making your gaze follow his. “I really needed it.” He admitted with a shy smile.

You sighed, shaking your head. “It really wasn’t all my doing.” You said, taking another spoonful on cake. “I mean it was my idea and… Well, I did a lot.” You said with a chuckle.

Bucky nodded, “And I’m very thankful for that.” He said.

You smiled and continued your conversation with Sam. Bucky decided to join in too.

Being around his teammates, Bucky realized he didn’t feel like the Winter Soldier who was feared by many. He felt like Bucky again. Maybe not the Bucky Barnes back from the forties since he had in fact changed. There was still a part of the Winter Soldier in him and he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tried but he felt like a person again. Not a weapon nor mind controlled killing machine but a person.

“You deserve it, you know?”

“Sorry, what?” Bucky asked, your voice interrupting his thoughts.

“All this.” You said, gesturing to your surroundings. “You deserve it.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I do!”

Bucky smiled again, looking down at you. He nodded, finally realizing that he did indeed deserve all the good things that he had in his life.

He thought his day would end in a bad note but instead, it became the best birthday he had ever had.

Happy 100th birthday Bucky Barnes!

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