#(languages - like the people that made 'em - are messy and i kinda love it)

[soysaucevictim]

For real though... learning some Tico/Tiquismos stuff while writing this thing has been a delight and a fun challenge, you know?

All because I chose the Spanish surname "Espinoza" (because the Begotten!Twins are thorny as hell, and it suits them) and looking up where that name was very common. Honed in on Costa Rica for the twins' dad.

I'm glad I'm at least aware of dialects being a thing.

(And none of the racist, imperialist, classist BS from my grandpa thinking there's such a thing as academic/perfect Spanish. That anything outside of that arbitrary, practically non-existent dialect, is just fucking slang/wrong.)

[dadsbongos]

trashy dad

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Shota Aizawa/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: references (2) to un*s ann*s, one (1) use of (y/n), fem pronouns Summary: Shota trying to support his YouTuber daughter :) cuz social media aus own me Word Count: 2.1K ~~~

"Hey, gamers," you grin at the camera before tossing an arm over your father's shoulders, "My dad's in town and as you can see," you hesitated slightly before turning to face your father, "Dad's not super into taking care of himself. So, I figured what's better than doing a Q&A together while I do his makeup?"

"Hitoshi just did a 'what I eat in a day', didn't he?" Shota quirked a brow, already reaching back to tie up his messy, tangled hair.

"Spoilers!" you quietly whine as you open your phone, "He still has to edit it, silly man. We're gonna have to brush out your hair later, by the way."

Shota's eyes widened, "We? I thought this was your idea and video, (Y/n)."

"No," you huff, scrolling through a few of the questions from fans, "I mean it was but your hair is so… Okay, first question is from - oh my God the names - shrekslongtoe, what was my first word?"

"Are you gonna start putting makeup on me or just sit there?" Shota scratched at his nose before snickering, "That wasn't your first word. Your first word was 'Dada' and it drove Hizashi insane."

"Hizashi is my other dad, by the way," you lean over to grab your makeup bag, "'Toshi and I call him papa. Oooh, oh no," you looked up to Shota, "I don't have your shade, you're gonna look weird."

"I don't really care," the man shrugged, watching as you took out a pink beauty blender, "That looks like a buttplug."

"Don't say that!" your eyes were wide at his words while you got out your foundation, "Youtube doesn't like that."

"Whoops," he deadpanned, "Next question."

"Shit, right."

"Language."

"Japanese," you murmur, going to the next reply, "yoonbumskneecap asks, 'Did you believe in me-’ they said my name but you know, ‘and Hitoshi when they decided to become Youtubers?' And 'in 'Toshi's case - drop out of college to become a professional clout man.'"

"To be honest," Shota closed his eyes, only in slight fear, as you began pressing the foundation into his skin, "I was really worried about Hitoshi, I didn't know if he'd stay as big as he was because he's a lot like me, in the sense that people tend to not like us for our bluntness. So I was worried he'd be a meme for like a month and then people would drop him, but thankfully I was proved wrong," he opened his eyes when he felt you pull away and begin rooting through your bag once again, "With you, I was less worried because you're more like 'Zashi, i.e extremely likable, and you were kind of getting a boost from appearances on Hitoshi's channel. I still worry because the internet is a fickle mistress but I'm not staying up at night about it."

Pulling out a dark eyebrow pencil, you grin at your father, "Aww, that was kinda sweet. Not really but kind of."

"What I'm here for," Shota's eyes followed your hand as you uncapped the pencil and reached up, beginning to mark at his eyebrows, "I'm gonna read the next question while you kill my eyebrows."

"I'm not killing them!" you giggled, "But unlike Papa, you already have pretty thick, full eyebrows so I won't be here long."

"Good," he muttered before furrowing his brows in confusion, ignoring your frustrated groan, "who is daddysero and why is he asking if you pissed today?"

"What?!" you pull your dad's hand back to see what he was looking at, instantly calming down when you saw he was still on Twitter, "Oh, that's just Sero, he asks me that every time I tweet. I thought you went to my Instagram DMs," at Shota's questioning stare you grinned, "Mama's got simps in her DMs."

"Don't ever call yourself 'Mama' in my presence ever again," Shota shook his head, once again ignoring your annoyance, "papichulo46290 wants to know my favorite memory of you."

"If you mix me up with 'Toshi, I'll be so pissed," you return the eyebrow pencil to your bag as Shota speaks.

"I won't... probably," he shrugs while you root through your bag, "So, Hizashi had taken Hitoshi out for ice cream because of - has he mentioned his middle school trauma?" at your nod, he continues, "Hitoshi was having a bad day from middle school, shocking, so you and I were left home alone together. You were probably seven and you really wanted to paint my nails and I let you. You..." he shook his head, snickering, "you fucked them up. So bad. But you were so happy to just be spending time with me- "

"Keep talking, but I'm gonna do your eyeshadow," you lean back in, swishing your brush over a navy blue, almost black shade, "Just so you guys know, Dad wanted to look like shit, don't unsubscribe cuz this is gonna come out bad."

"It won't be too bad, you're talented," Shota did his best to remain still, "But overall, you were just so adorable and it didn't even matter that the smudged nails got me teased in the teacher's lounge the next day. It all came off after like a week because it was shitty polish but you get the idea."

"Aww, I didn't know you kept it on, that's so sweet," you fall back briefly to inspect your work, "It's not awful but I'm only posting this because you're my dad."

"Of course, I did," Shota continued scrolling through the questions, "A lot of people are asking if you mean Dad or Daddy, and a lot more people are asking for pictures of your feet, you should block them all."

"Yeah, I got sickos in my replies too, just gotta scroll past em'."

"Disgusting..." Shota grumbled as you moved to his other eye, "Is 'electrodick' Kaminari, perchance?"

"Unfortunately."

"Gross, he asks if you had an 'I'm not like other girls' phase," Shota hummed quietly in thought, "Maybe when you were eight for like a month, but that's probably because except for Nemuri you didn't have any women in your life. Thankfully you moved on from that pretty quickly."

"Oh yeah, that was a gross, weird time. You and Papa also weren’t shitty people so I didn’t have a lot of misogynist influence."

"I like to think we did a good job," Shota sighed, finally moving back into his slouching position when you pulled away completely, "Is 'explosionmurder' Bakugou?"

"You know it."

"Okay well, he's asking if you plan on fucking up your bronzing again?" he thinks for a moment, “Was that from when you looked kinda copper-ish in a video?

"Oh my God, that was one time, Bakugou!" you shout and shake your brush at the camera, "One time!"

"I don't even know what blending is so you're doing better than I am."

"God, how are we related?"

Without hesitation, Shota replied, "Surrogate. Which answers summerlongsock's question."

"Nice," you chuckle, setting the brush back in your bag, "You probably won't need too much bronze or countour since you're going for bad," you immediately turn to the camera, "And Bakugou isn't gonna say a fucking word about it!"

"Is eyeliner next? And if so, I would enjoy a nice wing," Shota muttered, looking through the remaining questions, "Hitoshi asks why I haven't done a video with him yet."

You nod along while uncapping the liner, "I'm curious about that too. I thought my first video with a parent would be with Papa. I was gonna say family but..." you shrug, "Hitoshi was my first video and then Eri came on."

"He never asked," Shota closed both of his eyes, allowing you to move his head around as you pleased, "You just texted me the video idea and we set it up while I was in town. If Hitoshi wants a video so bad he should come up with an idea."

"Jeez, don't bully the poor boy," you laughed quietly, carefully applying more eyeliner to your father's left lid, "We should all do a video together. I think it'd be fun."

"Come up with an idea," he replied flatly before opening his eyes, "davinky wants to know when you got into makeup. Probably after thirteen, sometime."

"Yeah, I got my first real eyeshadow at like fourteen and then you guys just enabled my love of makeup after that."

"Well, the thing with that was, Hizashi and I didn't want you growing up thinking you had to wear makeup for any reason," Shota opened his eyes once he felt you back away, blinking a few times, "So we waited till you were more mature because giving makeup to a six-year-old is weird."

Capping your eyeliner, you traded it out for mascara, "Yeah, even little play kits are a bit ehhh. Don't close your eyes, but look down."

Following instruction, Shota took the opportunity to read off another question, "I can't see the name but someone's asking what we did together for fun. While you were a kid."

Humming quietly in thought, you move from one eye to the other, "We used to go to diners a lot. Those late-night diner trips, remember?"

"Oh yeah, you were such a little demon about bedtime. I had to take you to this little place for scrambled eggs or some shit and you'd fall asleep on the way back home."

Putting away your mascara, you reach out for your hairbrush before beginning to pull out the hair tie in Shota's hair, "Mina wanted me to ask what videos you show people when they ask what your kids do for a living."

"For Hitoshi, the one where he and Kaminari made Bakugou breakfast with sex toys. For you, the one where you turn yourself into Mina's little character - with the pink skin," Shota winced slightly at the tug of your hairbrush, "And Eri's a teacher so that information comes first since it's the least strange."

As you fussed with his tangled nest of hair, you read another question over Shota's shoulder, "When did you know you loved me? Like after adopting me."

"Not too long after the adoption was finalized actually," Shota grumbled as the brush made its final courses through his hair, "You've always been a really great kid. I don't know when I 'realized' but it was definitely around the time you were born, maybe like the day after."

"That's pretty good considering I was a stranger," you giggled, brushing out the final knots in his dark hair, "A baby stranger."

"Hmm," Shota hummed in response, "You almost done?"

Refraining from rolling your eyes, you fluffed Shota's now smooth and detangled hair around his shoulders with a small smile, "I'm done. Your hair is so pretty when it's brushed out."

"I know," the man muttered, handing your phone back, "Wanna do one more question and then sign off?"

"Yeah," you scroll through some of the questions, "I want it to be the best question that's ever been asked."

"Ask your own, you're great at that."

You shook your head with furrowed brows at his comment, "Is that a compliment?"

"It was meant to be."

"Thanks, but no need, I've found one. Midoriya wants to know if raising two attention whores was hard. He didn't say ‘attention whores’ because he doesn't swear but that's the vibe."

"What's Midoriya's at?" Shota asked.

"SmallMight."

"Of course," the man grumbled, closing his eyes to think, "You two were honestly pretty easy to raise. Not a whole lot of fits compared to what I've heard other parents talk about. You both liked to talk a lot to each other, and, of course, to Hizashi and me. Not terribly difficult at all."

"Aww, I'm glad we didn't make you pull your hair out," you grin.

"Oh, you still did. Absolutely."

"Nice," you giggle before turning off your phone and facing the camera, "Okay guys, well, I hope you don't clown on me as much as usual because if you do, my dad will... I don't know… kick your ass."

"Exactly," Shota nodded, a horrific smile on his face, "I'll beam right into your living room."

"Hopefully you guys come back next week where I'll..." floundering for an answer, you turn to your dad as if he���d give you ideas, "Create wings to do it better than Icarus ever could."

Giving a singular stiff nod, Shota looked dead at the camera, "I'd watch it."

"You heard it from the main man himself, peeps," you waved to the camera, Shota copying the motion, “Bye!”

"If there's one comment about my eyebags, I'm never coming on your channel again," Shota lied as you leaned over to stop recording.

"They're gonna love you, I'm sure," you assure your father, "Wanna see how I edit?"

"God no, Hitoshi showed me how long it takes to edit his videos, it looks like hell."

[fangirlovestuff]

Family - Frank Adler x reader

a/n- Hey lovely people! this is my second entry for the shameless hoes for chris challenge, so i’d like to say a very happy birthday (and belated birthday) to the lovely @stargazingfangirl18​ & @navybrat817​ who are hosting this challenge! thank you for sharing your kindness, talent, and shameless hoe thoughts with us through this challenge and every day, i hope you both had great days! here’s this Frank one shot as a gift! also, disclamer: i know nothing about boats. thoughts are in italics, prompt is in bold. Enjoy! <3

Summary: You move into a new town in search of a new job, and you meet a very handsome man and his cute niece. Or more accurately, their cat finds you.

Word count: ~3,550

Prompts:  Oops I caught feelings for you and I got ‘em baddd. &  “Oh god, did I say that out loud?”

Warnings: SMUT, explicit sexual content, explicit language. please do not read if you are uncomfortable with any of the above!

You opened the curtains of the small window, squinting a little as the morning sun hit your sleep-deprived eyes. It was the first night you spent in your new little house by the docks, and you'd always had a bit of a hard time sleeping in new places. 

You sighed and rubbed your eyes, getting the coffee started. You had another week until you had to work, giving you enough time to get to know your new surroundings and fix your sleep schedule before you took over at the local library. The pay wasn't too high but you needed a job while you were working on your novel, and what better than being surrounded by books?

You moved here to clear your head a little, feeling a change of scenery might be what you needed to write your story. What your parents and relatives referred to as your "little passion project" was in fact something you were willing to work hard to achieve. Being a published author was your goal, not a mere daydream. 

You sipped the warm coffee from your mug, looking out of the window at the quiet neighborhood. You startled at the sight of an orange cat appearing, out of nowhere, chased by a little girl who seemed to be around ten or eleven years old. You chuckled into your mug before seeing the girl stumble and fall. You put down your mug to rush to her aid, but before you could leave your doorstep, a man was already kneeling next to her. Maybe her dad, even though he seemed a little young for that.

You turned in search of the elusive cat, and found him in some bushes, licking his paws. You got closer and realized the ginger cat only had one eye. You cooed at the cat, beckoning him over, and to your surprise he listened, coming out of the bushes. You pet him a little and he willingly purred at your touch. You smiled before hesitantly reaching to lift him and hold him in your arms. From your acquaintance with cats, you expected him to thrash, scratch, or try to escape, especially from the hands of a stranger, but to your surprise he stayed put, letting you carry it over to the little girl and her dad, who were still kneeling on the grass.

The girl's eyes lit up when she saw you come closer, the cat still in your arms. "Fred!" she yelled and the cat finally showed signs of wanting to get away from you. You put him down and waved at them, coming closer and sitting down beside them, to be at eye level.

"Hey," you said and introduced yourself. "I couldn't help but notice this little guy trying to hide in the bushes. He's your cat, right?" you asked the little girl and she nodded, embracing him further. "Well, you've got a very well-behaved cat," you smiled at her, "he didn't put up a fight when I lifted him up, which is remarkable." Then you remembered a little girl of ten might not know what remarkable means, and opened your mouth to explain. 

"Yeah, Fred is very remarkable," she spoke before you could. You closed your mouth. All the while the man just sat there, seemingly evaluating you with his piercing blue eyes. From anyone else, you'd probably find the gaze daunting or uncomfortable, but from him, it sent a pleasant warmth through your body. 

"I'm Mary," she spoke once more, reaching her hands out to you. You took it and shook it, smiling at her. 

The man finally spoke up, "I'm Frank," he said in a deep voice, "nice to meet you. When did you move in? I haven't really seen you around."

"Actually, just yesterday," you smiled warmly at him. "This neighborhood seems lovely," you added.

"It is," he smiles. His smile is soft, lighting up his rugged features with evident kindness. You dismissed his previous hostility as a bad morning.

"C'mon Mary, we gotta get you ready for school," Frank got up and Mary took his hand and got up as well, waving at you as she and Frank marched back to their house, Fred trailing behind them. 

You smiled seeing Mary skipping next to Frank, holding his hand still. They made a very pretty, wholesome family. You wondered who the mom was.

A couple of days later you woke up to a weird scratching sound. You located the source of the noise was from the door, frowning before opening it. You were met with the sight of Fred, who immediately entered and rubbed his head on your leg. 

"Feeling at home, huh?" you smiled and scratched behind his ears. "Come on, let's get you back home," you got out of the door just when Frank came into sight.

"Good morning!" you called out as he got closer. 

"Morning!" he replied, lightly making his way to you. You noticed the way his white shirt stretched over his muscles and gulped. 

"Come on bud," he said as he lifted Fred up. "I'm sorry about him," he said. "I have no idea what's gotten into him," he smiled. You noted it seemed like he was in a better mood this morning. 

"It's fine," you replied, "he's a great alarm clock," you chuckled. 

"Oh god, he woke you up?" he scoffed at Fred. "Well, if you want to there's some coffee at our place, as a sorry for this little menace," he pet Fred a little.

"I'd love too, but I should probably get dressed," you gestured at your pajamas. 

"Yeah," Frank diverted his gaze, "Fred and I can wait," he said apologetically.

"Thanks," you said. 

You were back out within a few minutes, dressed and ready for the day. You walked beside Frank, making a bit of small talk about the neighborhood.

Once you reached the house you came in with Frank to find Mary eating breakfast in the company of a woman you haven't seen before.

"Thanks for watching her, Roberta. She couldn't be late today too," Frank said to the woman, Roberta apparently, and then to Mary, "Mary, we can't go chasing after Fred every time he decides to disappear."

"He was at my house," you intervened, "just coming to visit. He seems independent, you shouldn't worry if he goes on trips every once in a while. I promise if he comes to visit again, I'll get him back to you, okay?" you smiled.

Mary was quiet for a moment, as if considering what you just said, and then nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. And thanks for bringing him back. You too Frank," she smiled and continued to eat her cereal. You fought the puzzled expression that was threatening to rise on your face. Why would she call her dad Frank?

"The bus will be here soon, honey," Roberta told Mary, "better hurry."

Mary jumped up, took her bag, and grabbed onto Frank's hand. 

"Be right back," he said and started walking away with Mary. 

You felt Roberta's gaze immediately on you, as if observing you. You turned to her. "So, you new here?" she asked.

"Yeah, just moved in," you replied. "I bet you know everyone far better than I do," you smiled. You didn't know her relationship with Frank and Mary, but you were too embarrassed to ask. 

Roberta seemed to have picked up on it though, because the next thing she said was "When Frank moved in here, he didn't even have Mary. I live in a house across the street. I've always been friends with Frank, but when he needed to take care of his niece, I knew he needed a serious ass-kicking so he'd do it right," she chuckled. "but I think between the two of us, Mary came out great," she smiled fondly. 

"She seems wonderful," you agreed, thankful for her silent understanding of your cluelessness about the situation. 

Frank came back inside, closing the door behind him. "Thanks again for watching her Roberta," he said, "I'm sure you two got acquainted already," he added while pouring you a cup of coffee. 

You accepted the coffee gratefully, blowing on it slightly before taking a sip. Roberta was leaving to go about her day, so only you and Frank were left. You took in the house, and while it was a little messy, it radiated the happiness of a home. 

"So," Frank started, "I assume you've wondered about Mary… I'm her uncle, but her parents are gone." 

"It's okay," you hurriedly said, "Roberta explained a little, I get it."

"Of course she did," he chuckled. "Well then, tell me about yourself," he said.

And you did. You told him about your new job and your aspiration to become an author, even a bit about your family back home. He was easy to talk to, and in return told you more about Mary, that she was gifted, about life in the neighborhood. Before you noticed it, a few hours passed by. 

"Oh, look at the time! I'm so sorry, you probably have better things to do than sit here and talk to me, I can go if you want to," you rambled on before Frank reached forward and put his hand on your knee to stop you. You couldn't say you felt a jolt of electricity, because you weren't that cliché, but the warmth of his hand splayed on your knee did funny things to your stomach. 

His sincere eyes met yours when he said, "I work down at the docks, I repair boats, so I'm kinda freelancing, I can work whenever I feel like it. If you want though, you can come see the docks with me. You haven't been there yet, right?"

You shook your head, "I'd love to," you replied. 

You drove to the docks, getting out of the car and squinting your eyes at the bright late morning sun. Frank led you between a maze of boats and buildings until you reached the shed where he kept his tools. You sat down on a table and looked around, taking in your surroundings while Frank tidied up some stuff in a hurry.

"It's a cool place," you said, still roaming your eyes so you wouldn't have to meet his. Or more accurately, so you wouldn't let them linger on his arms, or shoulders, or face. You know, the normal things that you'd find insanely attractive about someone you've known for less than a week. Everything's totally under control.

"So, have you ever tried fixing a motorboat?" Frank smiled.

You raised your eyebrow at him. "I think you know the answer to that is a definite no," you chuckled. 

"Well, why don't you try it?" Frank suggested, "These aren't much use when they're sitting around here," he gestured at the tools. " if I'm here I might as well do some work. Wanna come?" 

"Sure, why not," you jumped down from the table and made your way to follow Frank through the door and back into the summer heat. He led your way to a small boat. When you got closer you could see the engine, the part that was covering it propped nearby to allow access to the mechanics of the ship. You both made your way on it and Frank crouched down and peered down at the engine.

"Okay, you wanna come see this?" he said and you came closer, crouching down next to him. He started explaining something about which part exactly is damaged, but you were too busy staring at his lips to really register what he was saying. Besides, you excused to yourself, it's not like I would've understood even if I was listening.

"So, what do you need to do to fix it?" you asked, breaking from your trance-like state and hurriedly changing the subject before he would realize you weren't paying attention. Or even more humiliating, realize what you were paying attention to.

He took a screwdriver and extended it to you. "For starters, I gotta open it up, which is the easy part so you can help," he smirked. 

You rolled your eyes but took the screwdriver from his hand, unscrewing where he showed you. You tried to focus on the job at hand, but honestly, you were kinda thinking about how much you wanted to screw him. Okay, chill the fuck out, you chastised yourself, he has a kid to worry about. And is way out of your league. 

For the next hour or so you and Frank, or mostly Frank, worked away at the engine. You actually managed to keep up with most of his explanations, despite the closeness between the two of you feeling both consuming and thrilling. The repairing the boat part was fine, and it was great to get some experience with something new, but it couldn't compare to the rush of your heartbeat every time Frank's arm brushed against you, or he'd lean into you a little, or grab your hand in his and show you how to properly do something. 

 Frank fixed one last thing and then looked up at you with a soft smile, "that's it," he said.

"I did it!" you exclaimed. "Wow, do you think I should start doing this as my job? I mean, I'm really good," you both laughed. 

"Yeah, sure," he said, "and you could fix some crankshafts and bearings," he smiled.

"Okay, yeah, we get it, I don't even know enough about boats to tell if these are actual boat parts," you laughed. 

"You wanna maybe get some lunch after all your hard work?" he gave you a lopsided grin and you accepted his invitation.

You were sitting at a small restaurant, enjoying your food, when you suddenly realized, "Hey, shouldn't you pick Mary up from school or something?" you frowned a little.

"Oh, no, Roberta wanted to have her for the night, so she's gonna take her," he said.

"So, Roberta is like a mother figure for Mary?" you asked tentatively. 

"I wouldn't say that, she's more of an aunt," Frank answered with a smile. "I guess the mother figure part is reserved for whoever I marry or something," he shrugged.

"Okay, maybe I'm prying a bit, but why don't you find someone? I mean, it doesn't seem too hard since you're so dreamy," you said, and then closed your mouth immediately. Please make the ground swallow me right now.

"Oh god, did I say that out loud?" you said and chuckled in an attempt to mask your embarrassment. "Whatever, ignore me, I'm just nosy and—"

"No, don't retract that," Frank smiled, his eyes glinting, "it's not every day you get such a compliment from a cute girl," he smiled timidly, blushing a little, but kept his eyes on you. 

"Thanks," you said, smiling. He was just being nice. You got through the rest of your lunch, ignoring the subject completely. You were glad he took it in good humor. Great, we're adults. We can move past that. 

You drove back into the neighborhood and stopped next to your houses. You got out of the car, stopping next to Frank. 

"Thanks for today," you said. "I had a great time," you continued and almost started walking away until Frank caught you by your wrist, effectively stopping you. You turned around; a questioning look on your face.

"You know I meant what I said at lunch, right?" he asked, smiling. "I'd love to take you out on an actual date sometime. You know, if you actually meant what you said at lunch," he smirked a little.

"I did," you admitted softly. "I'd love to go out sometime."

"Great," he said. "that means I can do what I wanted to do all day," he said. Before you could ask what that was, he closed the distance between you and attached his lips to yours. You brought your arms to wrap around his neck while his tongue slipped into your mouth. You explored each other's mouths eagerly, your hands tangling in the back of his hair while he pushed you against the car, hands exploring with passion.

When you pulled apart after what felt like forever but was simultaneously too short a time, you spoke. "So," you panted, "Mary's at Roberta's you say?"

"I like the way you think," he smirked and took your hand, leading you into the house with him.

Once inside, Frank led you to the bedroom. He was quick to recapture your mouth with his, his warm hands sneaking under your shirt, lifting it above your head, and tossing it aside. He stopped to marvel at you before you quickly closed the distance once more, pushing your hips against him a little before pulling off his shirt, moving to lick and suck down his chest and abs.

You reached his pants and made quick work of his belt, pulling his pants down with his boxers and freeing his already hard length. You spit in your hand before stroking him, and even watching him get hard made you wet with anticipation. You looked up at him, and maintaining eye contact you wrapped your lips around him, taking him into your mouth with greed. You started swirling your tongue around him and he groaned, thrusting into your mouth. You nearly gagged but you continued your ministrations, starting to hollow your cheeks and suck him for all it's worth. 

He put his hand on the back of your head, pulling you away and you stood back up. "As much as I'm enjoying this," he rasped, "you gotta get in on the fun." He attached his lips to your neck, sucking at your pulse point as you moaned. He reached to take off your pants and you undid your bra, tossing it across the room as well.

"Now we're even," he breathed against your ear, his hand trailing down before pushing a finger into you, smirking at the sensation of your wetness. You clenched around his finger, holding onto his shoulders while your breathing hitched. He inserted a second finger in and continued to finger you in a slow, torturous pace until you finally had it. You left open-mouthed kisses along his neck and whispered in his ear. "Frank," you moaned at his thumb reaching your clit, "I need you."

He didn't need to be told twice, pulling his fingers out of you and swiftly tossing you on the bed, hovering above you before capturing your lips in a thorough kiss before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing into you, the stretch causing you to moan and grab onto his back. 

He started moving and you dug your fingers into his back, panting at the feeling of him reaching your g-spot. The feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, was tenfold more intense than what you felt before on the boat, and you bucked your hips against him at the thought. He sensed your need and picked your legs up. You wrapped them around his waist and he started going faster, the change of pace and angle quickly pushing you both over the edge. 

Later you laid in his bed, the sheets messed around you, listening to the far-off sounds of the evening from outside. You absentmindedly moved your fingers along his chest, drawing the pattern of a heart over and over again, like a schoolgirl in a notebook. He said nothing, just took your hand in his, brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. 

"We should probably get some dinner," he said and you hummed in agreement. "Maybe I could take you out on that date?" he smiled.

As if on cue, your stomach grumbled and you both laughed.

"Let's go dreamboat," you sassed and got up to search for your clothes.

Some months later you celebrated Mary's birthday. You had a little party at home for her and some friends, which you helped organize. By now you were a part of Mary's life, and you couldn't be happier about it.

Frank came up to you, smiling. "I think we threw a pretty great party," he said.

"I do too. Mary seems like she's enjoying herself." You smiled at the sight of her playing with her friends.

"She is," Frank said. "And it's thanks to… me. Dreamy Frank at it again!" he said and you both burst out into laughter. 

"God, you're really never gonna let me live that down will you?"

"Well, you're cute, so maybe you still stand a chance," he winked and you both laughed. He went to help the girls with their game and Roberta came up and stood next to you. "You know," she said, "besides Mary, he never laughs with anyone like that. Certainly not an adult," she smiled and you smiled at her as well, catching Frank lifting Mary in his arms from the corner of your eye. "Well," she continued, "I guess that's how it is with family." 

That is how it was. You've never felt happier than in the moments you spent with Frank and Mary. You love them both dearly. To think you found your family when you were looking for a job! Well, life's funny like that sometimes. And you wouldn't have it any other way. 

hope you enjoyed! this was supposed to be fluffy but... oh well best of both worlds

Chris Taglist: @swatson06 @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @phoebe-21-99 @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​ @wanessalopesueiros @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @darkwitchfromthesouth @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal

if you wanna join / be removed from the taglist, comment/message me! this is a taglist for Chris and his characters. much love <3

[groggy-mittens]

G’day wonderful person

(excuse my grammar, English is not my native language owo)

I thought it would be fun and perhaps even helpful to post my own process on how i make a page!

I start with a messy draft on what i want to show in each panel, i ignore placing of speech bubbles for now. Its more to get myself on the right track.

Next I want to create a more clear base line on the positions, angles and facial expressions. sometimes it matches with the draft, often then not i realize i should shift a bit to fit what i want to show. I place a few speech bubbles here and there to help visualize the page more.

I LOVE line art. So when i start with that it takes a long while before its done. I play around with shadow drops (accurate or not, as long as it looks nice), thick to thin lines, and just all around detailed as much as the canvas allows me to be.

I have a sheet saved with all the textures! some are from online sources, some are my own. Im not good with making them so complex textures i leave up to the experts! I throw them in one by one, cut em out and move on. Also, please remember that people of color have lighter palms/feet! there are a lot of tutorials online who go into it a lot better then my white ass can ever do. For the comic i add brightness to the areas.

Speech bubbles come when ive placed all of the dialogue and i know what size the bubble needs to be. I kinda look around what would be the best place for them, as you hide whats under the bubble and cut away parts of your art. In this phase I go around time and time again to check the details, did i forget gordons glasses again, has benrey the shadowdrop, did i make typo’s etc.

Then post and hope people will like it haha. Sometimes i still spot like, a typo bc my dyslectic ass likes to fuck itself, i panic, breathe and fix it in like 2 sec and replace it with the correct page.

I am in no means an expert (i can already see faults in my word the moment i post them) and to be honest ive never made a comic this large. But i wanna share a few tips.

Never stick to your first draft, dont dedicate yourself to it, allow change if you see better options (as you can see happening in this post).

This is a common mistake, place your text in the middle and try to even out the corners of the text bubble. Like, the distance of the right corner from text to bubble be the same as those of the other 3 corners!

Try to avoid boxes. You can use them and please do, but get a bit more playful, draw a box in a different angle or dont use one at all.

Push yourself to poses that you are not used to draw and/or comfortable with. Tracing is okay! trace a pose, memorize it and draw it by yourself. Dont copy it of course, its more to help you understand whats happening, for your brain to remember how the pose works. It will look wack first time, so please do not get discouraged! keep on going!

I hope this might help some folks who, just like me, are new to this! thx for reading, sorry its so long pff

[eryiss]

Chapter Eleven - The End

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. Hope you enjoy it. Also, despite what the chapter name says, there is one more chapter after this. 

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Eleven – The End

Freed had flaws.

It was something that he had tried to keep to himself; he was an image conscious man and, at some point in his life, he had attributed having flaws as some kind of weakness. This wasn't helped because of his career, something where image really was everything. One fumble on your words, one change in your body language, one misplaced hair and your opponent would jump on it in an attempt to delegitimise both you and your arguments. And slowly, subconsciously, Freed had convinced himself that he had no flaws.

But that was a fiction, and one that he was being forced to confront. He was emotionally repressed, and closed himself off from vulnerability or the chance of embarrassment. He had little life outside of his work, and had convinced himself he was happy like that when he wasn't. He had a superiority complex that often-alienated people and put a strain on relationships with people not willing to push back at him.

They were not comfortable realisations to have, and they had hit him hard.

However, Freed was not only made of flaws. He had many positive traits, one of which was his practicality. So when all of his flaws were pointed out to him, he did not mope for long, nor did he fall into a spiral of regret and self-loathing. Instead, he made a decision to make a change in himself, to grow out of his flaws.

It was why he was dressed like this: a black sleeveless shirt, and black jeans, with his hair tied up into a messy ponytail. Though to an outsider it wasn't a large change, it was significant for Freed. His job required a certain look, and did such a large amount of overtime that his suits were practically the only things he wore. Again, in a gradual change that Freed hadn't been aware of, his wardrobe turned into nothing but suits. It had become something like societal armour for him, a way to avoid judgment because he knew that he looked good and felt confident like that.

Laxus had mentioned that. Laxus had been the catalyst for all of this self-reflection.

He looked himself up and down in the mirror, frowning a little. The only reason he had these clothes were because, during Christmas, Bickslow had attempted to get Freed to go clubbing with him and attempted to guilt him into doing it by buying him the clothes as a gift. It was an interesting look for Freed, he wasn't sure about it.

"Well hot damn," A loud voice said from behind him, followed by a wolf whistle. Freed turned to see Bickslow standing at the door of his bedroom. "Where have you been hiding those arms? You're looking fine~"

Freed didn't say anything, glancing at his bare arms.

"Don't embarrass him," Evergreen's hushed as she walked past the doorframe, dragging Bickslow with her. Freed walked out of his bedroom, entering the open plan living room of his apartment. "You do look great though. Casual works on you."

"And I bet blondie is gonna love it," Bickslow grinned.

Again, Freed said nothing. He kept glancing at himself in any reflective surface that he could find, each time making him feel slightly more comfortable in the outfit. He shook his head slightly at the stupidity of his actions, walking to the kitchen and leaning on the counter as he checked the time on his phone. He would have to leave soon.

"What d'you think you're going to say to him?" Ever asked, sitting on the counter beside him.

"I'm not entirely sure yet," Freed admitted, leaning back and sighing. "I spent most of last night thinking about it, actually. At one point I decided to draft out what I wanted to say, which didn't help me at all. I'm hoping that seeing him will help."

"Just speak from the heart man," Bickslow smiled.

"Well, emotional vulnerability is a strength of mine," Freed let out a small chuckle as he spoke. "But that will probably be the best, won't it."

"And don't forget to grovel your ass off," Evergreen grinned.

Freed laughed slightly, but nodded. His friends had made it quite clear over the last two weeks that, the way he had left it with Laxus was stupid and unnecessary. Freed had taken issue with their claims at first, because if Laxus wanted to keep their relationship platonic then Freed felt he couldn't be near him for a while. But when Bickslow and Evergreen had said, in no uncertain terms, that Freed was just 'being pointlessly defensive like you always do when you try to be vulnerable,' it was hard to deny they had a point.

It had somewhat recontextualized their conversation at the party. For Freed, it had been a way to save face; to avoid the chance for embarrassment. But for Laxus, it probably felt like a rejection of their friendship. An end to any relationship, platonic or otherwise, between them.

Freed had felt sick when he realised that.

The memory of the realisation made his mood plummet.

"Hey, don't look like that," Bickslow smiled, patting Freed's shoulder and nudging him with his thigh. "You're new to… emotions. And being honest with your mistakes," Freed hardened his expressions by reflex at that. "But it ain't that bad, what happened. You kinda did a little bit of a fuck up, which happens. You're going to talk to him, make up for what happened, and then maybe if you're lucky you'll get some dick. Again."

Against his better judgment, a slither of a smile fell onto Freed's face.

"You're incorrigible," Freed scolded, though laughed.

"Was he good?" Evergreen asked, and Freed shook his head as he stood up. "He looks like he'd be good."

"You are both awful people," Freed said with a grin. "I'm trying to get into a headspace where I can have an emotional and heartfelt conversation with a level of vulnerability I am not comfortable with, for a man I care for very greatly. And the two of you talking about my night with the aforementioned man is not helping."

"We couldn't be more sorry," Bickslow grinned in his lie.

"Yes, you sound positively repentant," Freed muttered, pushing off from the counter and standing straight. "I should go, before it gets too late. You don't mind dealing with the trucks, do you? I'd rather not linger any longer than I have to."

"Of course," Evergreen smiled. "It's all going into storage for now, isn't it?"

Freed nodded.

"You coming back tonight?" Bickslow asked, before grinning. "Roomie."

"I suppose that'll be dependent on what happens, won't it?"

Freed walked through his front door, holding it open for his friends to walk through. Once they had, he looked into the large apartment, devoid of both furniture and evidence of life. He scanned the place he had lived for all his adult life, almost shocked by the lack of emotions he felt when he considered it would no longer be his home. Perhaps it was because it had never felt like a home, but rather a selection of rooms that he existed in when not working. Or perhaps it was because he felt that there was something better for him coming soon if luck was on his side.

But, as he flicked off the light and locked the door, he didn't care. He had other priorities today.

He took a breath before he walked in. He needed the courage.

Fairy Tail, for his time in Magnolia, had been something of a safe haven for him. Before he'd moved into the house, Fairy Tail had been where he had stayed and it had turned into a home away from home, of sorts. But now, having not been there for a while, it felt something like a fortress that he would have to conquer. A monolithic blockade that signified what he needed to do to take the next step in his life.

Because Freed knew that he had hurt Laxus; he couldn't delude himself otherwise. After Bickslow and Evergreen had explained just how stupid he had been – again, their words – he had demanded Evergreen ask Elfman about Laxus' state. Apparently he was shut off, without enthusiasm and quick to anger.

Freed was to blame for this, and the people who had dealt with the fallout were in the hotel.

After further attempts to calm his nerves, Freed walked through the front garden of the hotel and into the hotel. The bell chimed and it sent a rush of nerves into the pit of Freed's stomach. As the door closed, he was met with the sight of Cana and Mirajane. Perhaps the two people Freed hoped to see least.

There was a moment of silence, where recognition turned to icy expressions.

"Oh look who it is," Cana said, pushing up from the reception and taking a step forward. "Mr fuck 'em and leave 'em, huh. You've a lot of balls showing up here."

A slurry of comments flashed through Freed's mind, because as willing as he may be to grovel for Laxus' forgiveness, that was not something he was going to do for people who he barely knew. However, he knew that Laxus was important to these people, and it was clear that they had protective instincts over him, so he bit his tongue. Though a hint of bitterness did fill him at the way he was addressed.

"I wish to see Laxus," He said in reply, fighting the instinct to scratch at his hand. "Where is he?"

"Why?" Mirajane asked, and her tone lacked the gentleness it normally did. "Because from what I've seen, I don't think he'd want to see you."

"Has he told you that?" Freed's voice had a hint of an edge to it now. "Because if not, then perhaps it would be best if you don't speak for him and allow him to make up his own mind; I'm sure you agree."

Cana went to speak, but before she said anything the door to the office swung open and two people walked out: Makarov and Lisanna. Freed almost sighed in frustration at the sight of the older man, because, if Freed had understood the man as well as he thought, Makarov's protective instinct over Laxus was so much higher than that of his friends. And the scowl on his face suggested that Freed's assessment had been correct.

"You," He snapped, voice carrying a ferocity that Freed hadn't heard out of court. "What are you doing on my property?"

"I wish to see your grandson," Freed explained, continuing before he could stop himself. "If you can tell me where he is, I'll happily leave your property. Though given that it is a retail business I feel the need to say I have a right to be here."

"My Grandson is no business of yours," Makarov growled in his throat, stepping towards Freed. "Over the last few weeks he had become a shell of his former self. And you are entirely to blame for that."

Freed resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"And how exactly have you come to that conclusion?" Freed asked, making as good an effort to remain polite as he could. "Because, despite it not being something you may want to admit, I know your grandson very well. And knowing him, I can be sure in the fact that he has not spoken of our conversation to any of you. So perhaps you should hold your assumptions for now and allow him to make up his own mind."

"I found him crying alone. On New Year's Eve he was sat alone and in tears. Because you left him like that," Makarov grunted, taking another step forward. "You're right, he didn't tell me what happened, but I know a damn broken heart when I see it. Especially when it comes to my own grandson. And you have the audacity to come here, as if you can walk back into his life without repercussion. I should spit at you."

"Where is he?" Freed repeated, now scratching at his palm again as frustration grew.

"I can assure you that if I have anything to say about it, you will not see my grandson again and you certainly will not hurt him," Makarov snarled. "Leave, you cruel hearted bastard."

Freed felt his jaw clench at that, and his eyes flickered over the three other people in the reception. Cana was glaring at him; with an expression one might save for a murderer. Mirajane was nodding in agreement to Makarov's demand, her lips pressed into a firm line. Lisanna looked more hesitant, glancing at Makarov with a look of almost concern before her eyes flickered towards Freed. For a moment they shared eye contact, and a flash of pity crossed her features that made Freed feel a little calmer.

"Why're you still here?" Cana snapped. "Fuck off, fucking manipulative whore."

And that was the moment that Freed's patience snapped.

Because his road to self-betterment had only just started, and when insulted he favoured fight over flight.

"I have a lot of things to say to you all, but as I don't wish to waste my time on insignificant people I intend to keep this brief," Freed snapped, voice rivalling Makarov's in hostility. "You may believe that you have Laxus' best interests at heart by this little performance, but if you used so much as an ounce of thought, then you would probably conclude that he would both hate this and resent you for doing it. He is a prideful man, as well as a free-thinking adult, and having people speak for him without his permission is something I expect doubt he would abhor."

"You do not know my grandson better-" Makarov began.

"Do not interrupt me!" Freed yelled with a power that years of professional arguing had gifted him. "And do not play some saintly role, because I am more than aware of how focused you have all been on whatever relationship Laxus and myself may have had. You have strongarmed yourselves into our relationship by making comments, jokes and invasive suggestions. This protective defence you're doing is a continuation of that. A way to paint yourselves as the heroes of the story, the valiant defenders who protected the weak of the pack. But Laxus is not weak, and you really should stop treating him as such."

"Don't act like you know us," Cana scoffed. "We've barely spoken."

"And yet you act as though you know me perfectly," Freed retorted. "But you don't. You don't know me, nor the nature of what Laxus and I have had. You have made assumptions, all of which seem to be incorrect."

Freed took a sigh to calm himself. He needed to get this back onto the topic.

"When I left your grandson last, he was not crying. Had I known he would, I promise that I would not have left him," He said, voice calmer but still tainted with anger. "I will not divulge what we spoke of, as that is our business, but if you believe I simply bedded Laxus and left him then let me make it clear that I did not. I care for him greatly, and the fact that I have hurt him burns at me. But I am here in an attempt to make amends for this, something I can only do if I see him. Should he tell me to leave and never contact him, as you so clearly want, then I will respect that. But I will not take orders from strangers.

"Now, given you're so clearly invested in what happens between us, I will be clear. I intend to find him, speak to him and hopefully rekindle whatever relationship I can," Freed straightened his back, a glare on his face. "And if I may leave you with some advice for the future, when it comes to our relationship, mind your own fucking business."

He spun on his heels, and left the reception of Fairy Tail.

His pace was quick, and the anger spurred him on, adrenaline a good counter for the cold air hitting his bare arms. He stormed down the steep hill of magnolia, ears not picking up the sound of running shoes on the cobbles behind him. He was too busy focused calming his breathing.

"Freed," Lisanna's voice came from behind, and Freed glanced over his shoulder to see she was alone. "Slow down."

"Why?" He grunted.

"Because I know where he is, asshole," She snapped back, and Freed slightly slowed his pace. After catching up with him, Lisanna spoke again. "Look, don't pay too much attention to them. Getting involved in other people's business is what happens in villages. And they're a protective lot, but they don't mean any insult."

"Yes they do."

"Okay, maybe they do a bit," Lisanna admitted, sighing. "But that's not why I came out here. I wanted to say that I think it'd be good if you talked to Laxus. I know they all disagree, but I think I know you pretty well, and I don't think you'd hurt Laxus intentionally. So even if you don't manage to… fix everything, it might give you a chance to explain what happened and help cheer him up."

"That's what I'm hoping to do," Freed spoke softly.

"I know. You're nice, you just have to look hard at you to see it," Lisanna smiled, patting Freed's arm. "He's at a job right now, doing some house work. I'm sure Bob won't mind you stopping by."

After Lisanna wrote down the address of the house Laxus was working at, he thanked her and was pulled into a shockingly strong hug. He returned it, somewhat awkwardly, before letting her go and smiling at her. It was nice to know that he had an ally of sorts with her, given that he had essentially burned all bridged with all of the other people important to Laxus.

"I hope you do make it up to each other," Lisanna admitted softly. "You brought out the best of him."

"He brought out the best of me," Freed whispered, and he felt his anger dissipate slightly. The admission of Laxus' influence was invigorating and comforting at the same time.

"Then make it up with him," Lisanna said. "And be good to him."

"I will," Freed promised. "I really will."

When he saw Laxus, it made his stomach churn and flip simultaneously.

He was in a small front garden, standing with his back to Freed while trimming the wayward leaves of an overgrown tree. The wires plugged into his ears told Freed that he was listening to music, and the sight of his right leg bobbing slightly in tune to a rhythm sent a rush of relief through Freed. Getting lost in music was something that often happened when he worked on the house, and Freed was glad to see that hadn't changed.

Perhaps stupidly, Freed had convinced himself that Laxus would be a shell of his former self. It was good that he wasn't.

Approaching slowly, and steadying his breath again, Freed coughed to get his attention. It didn't work initially, so Freed waited a moment for Laxus to climb down from the small step ladder he was stood on, before tapping the blonde on the shoulder. Laxus turned, then took a startled half step back when he saw who it was. Freed smiled weakly at him as Laxus took out his headphones.

"Freed," He slightly stammered out, pupils dilated.

"Hello Laxus," Freed spoke quietly. "It's nice to see you."

"Hi," Laxus seemed almost breathless as he spoke.

They took a few moments to look one another up and down. Laxus looked the same as he had since they last saw, in most ways. He still stood tall, his clothes still clung to his large form, and his face was as handsome as it always had. But there were slight bags under his eyes, and his shoulders were drooped just a little. Freed felt a rush of guilt flow through him; he couldn't remember Laxus looking like this in their time spent together, and the change was his fault.

But he couldn't linger on that guilt for too long, because Laxus finished sizing him up at the same time Freed had with him. Their eyes met, and Freed found himself breathless as he was trapped in the blue pupils that had been haunting him.

"What are you doing here?" Laxus asked, voice more hesitant than hostile.

"I wished to speak with you," Freed explained, taking a step forward. Laxus didn't step back, and the proximity gave Freed a slight burst of confidence. "So long as that's not a problem?"

"Erm. No. No that should be, erm… That should be fine," Laxus said, looking over his shoulder to the house. "Just let me see if Bob doesn't mind me taking a bit of time off. He won't, but I need to be sure."

Freed nodded, and watched as Laxus jogged back into the house; Freed scolded himself for glancing over the vast expanse of the man's back as he retreated. Less than a minute later, Laxus returned to the garden, now wearing a leather, fur lined jacket that had become a favourite of Freed's during their time together. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of the ruffled fake-fur bordering Laxus' neck.

"You ain't cold are ya?" Laxus asked, voice awkwardly polite. It bothered Freed, but he'd expected it. "I could ask Bob for something, if you need it. I mean, you have pretty different styles, but cold is cold. Although, you seem to have changed it up a bit."

"Yes," Freed said, not missing the roaming eyes on him again. "But I'm fine, I don't need a coat."

Laxus shrugged, motioning towards the pathway that Freed had just walked down to get there. Without needing to say anything, Freed began walking down the road, Laxus keeping in step with him. Even in the awkwardness between them, Freed couldn't help but notice how easy it was to understand what Laxus was thinking without him saying anything. Freed enjoyed knowing what someone was thinking without them speaking.

"The bathroom in the house is done," Laxus said eventually, breaking the ice. "I sent you an email, don't know if you got it."

"I did," Freed nodded, thinking back to the email. The very formal email. "I didn't reply in case you didn't want to hear from me."

"Is it okay?" Laxus asked.

"I haven't been to the house yet, but I know it'll be excellent," Freed spoke with confidence, because Laxus was excellent with what he did. "You were my priority for coming here, though."

Laxus let out a small hum in response, and they fell into silence again as a chill ran over Freed's bare arms, not that he paid it any mind. It was stupid but, after their time spent apart, even walking next to Laxus in a relatively uncomfortable silence felt great. Laxus seemed to have a calming aura to him that affected Freed in a way he couldn't explain.

But, he wasn't here to indulge himself in his urge to be close to Laxus in any way the blonde allowed him to. He was here to make it up to Laxus, to hopefully make him feel a little better at worst, and perhaps propose a new relationship at best.

"I have to apologise," Freed began. "For quite a lot of things, really."

"No you don't," Laxus said, either out of instinct or politeness.

"Don't be kind about this, Laxus. It's not the moment for that," Freed spoke with a firmness in his voice. "The fact is, I've done a lot of selfish things to you, and whether intentionally or not I have hurt you. I need to make up for that, and the first step is to apologise."

When Laxus didn't say anything, Freed saw that as encouragement for him to continue.

"When I first kissed you, and the night we spent together, I did it out of selfishness," Freed began. "I know you disagreed when I said that before, but it was. I wanted you, and I prioritised that over both our friendship and any repercussions that might have come with it. It was a selfish moment born out of a lack of self-control."

"You know I wanted it as much as you did," Laxus parroted his response from their previous discussion on the matter.

"It wouldn't have happened had I not pushed it," Freed said firmly. "I also need to apologise for how we left things last time. Why I said we should take a break from each other… it was an excuse. The truth was that I'm terrified of embarrassment. I've spent most of my life avoiding situations where it might happen. And I was embarrassed after what happened, and my kneejerk reaction to that is to close off and avoid it. Which, now I say it out loud, is utterly pathetic."

"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "It was fucking pathetic."

Freed was shocked that he felt no offence at that.

"You ain't apologised for it yet," Laxus continued.

"No," Freed agreed. "I am so sorry for that Laxus. Without being hyperbolic, that was the biggest mistake I have ever made, and I will regret it for the rest of my life," He sighed a little, breath fogging. "But I know that an apology isn't enough. So I want to make it clear that I'm trying to improve myself; to confront my flaws."

"Really?" Laxus said, looking ahead.

"I've contacted a therapist, with the intention of having weekly sessions with her," Freed admitted, and Laxus' gaze fell on him. "I'm hoping that she can help me with a lot of things. Both with my… issues with how I'm perceived, and other, smaller problems. Specifically with how I'm dealing with my mother's death."

"Right," Laxus said with a slight nod. "Sounds like something that'd be good for you."

Again, they didn't speak for a short while, and Freed found that they had walked into one of Magnolia's parks; he'd been too busy focused on the apology to notice where they had gone. He'd never been to the park before, he'd never had the time nor the inclination, but it was a beautiful place. A long expanse of grass, with flowerbeds decorating the edges. And near the entrance was a large pond, with Lilypad's floating atop the surface and benches surrounding it.

"I've quit my job," Freed said as they walked along the path. Laxus stopped where he stood.

"What the fuck?"

"I've left my job," Freed repeated. "It was overdue."

"You loved your job," Laxus frowned, voice confused. "You said it was the biggest part of your life. You just fuckin' quit it?"

"It's a fairly clear summary of my life, isn't it? That the biggest part of my life was something that I grew to hate," He chuckled out loud. "I'm selling my apartment as well. Something else that I should have done a while ago."

"The fuck are you- Why are you-" Laxus stammered slightly. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're the catalyst for this. I've been playing at life for a while, doing what I thought I was meant to for years now. I got the job I was told to get. I got the apartment I want meant to strive for. But, I wasn't happy, and I didn't realise it until I came here. Until I met you. You've made me a better man, and I want you to know how important you are to me," Freed admitted, before frowning. "And this isn't a form of guilt tripping. I'm not trying to make you feel obligated to forgive me for what I did. These are all things that I should have done years ago, for myself. I just want you to know how better I am for having met you."

"You know where you're gonna live?" Laxus asked. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Freed felt he heard a slight glimmer of hope in Laxus' tone.

"Bickslow's apartment, for now," Freed explained. "In terms of future plans, there's a lot of things to think about."

"Is one of those things the topic you've been avoiding?" Laxus asked. "What the next steps are for the two of us."

"That is a large thing to consider," Freed agreed.

"Guess so," Laxus nodded. He tilted his head to the nearest bench that bordered the pond. "Sit."

Freed did as he was told, and sat on the bench. When Laxus sat beside him, a chill went through his spine as he felt Laxus' thigh rest against his and remain there. He tried not to let a glimmer of hope bloom through him, but a small smile did flicker into his features before he schooled it off. Hopefully Laxus didn't notice.

"You can tell yer a lawyer," Laxus continued. "I come up with a list of reasons why we shouldn't be together, and you address them all."

"Sorry," Freed said with a small smile. "Winning arguments its hardwired into me."

"Yeah, realised that," Laxus chuckled a little, before turning serious again and looking at Freed. "Freed, all this stuff your doing is great, and I'm sure it'll help you become a better and happier person. But things like therapy, they take time. It's not like you'll go into a session and be the best version of yourself by the end of it. And if you're looking for a new job and you've just moved out… I don't think it's the best time for us to start anything."

His heart leapt slightly at the idea that Laxus was even considering starting something with him. But he didn't let his excitement show, instead nodding slightly.

"If you're not ready, or if you just don't want to-"

"I want to Freed, I really want to," Laxus said firmly, and Freed couldn't fight the smile. "I've wanted to be with you since I first met you. But if we start – when we start – then we only got one chance at it. Because I feel really strongly about you, and I'm worried if we fuck it up it'll turn to hatred. And I can't hate you. I don't wanna hate you."

"I don't want to hate you either."

Again, silence fell between them. And Freed understood what Laxus was saying, because he too had such strong feelings for Laxus. At that moment those feelings were fondness, adoration, friendship and potentially love. But if they messed up, if their relationship was bad and it grew resentment between them both, then all the passion he felt for the man could be twisted into anger and disgust. That was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

"What if we wait a month," Laxus eventually said.

"What?" Freed asked.

"A month. In exactly a month's time, we see how we're both doing. If we're in a better place than we are now, and if we both think it's time then we go on a date and see what happens," Laxus had a sense of purpose in his voice. An authority. "That okay?"

"Yes," Freed said without hesitation. "But, what if we're not ready by next month?"

"Then we wait another month. Or however long it takes," Laxus claimed, and it was perhaps the most romantic thing Freed had heard. "You think you can do that?"

"Without a doubt," Freed promised. "The truth of the matter is, Laxus, that I would do anything to keep you in my life."

And then a beautiful thing happened. Freed was given the angelic sight of Laxus' lips contorting into a mischievous, wide grin. His eyes sparkled with a childish, competitive glee. Laxus had clearly seen Freed's promise as some sort of challenge and, as he had done with every perceived challenge between the two of them, had decided he would take Freed up on the challenge. It was incredible to see, and Freed felt as though, in that look, he had been forgiven.

"Anything huh?" He said with a grin in his tone. "Because, y'know, when we do go on a date I get to pick what we do. And I'm pretty sure I wanna get some petty revenge on ya. That okay?"

"Depends on what the date is, I suppose," Freed mused, smirking, "But I doubt you'll think of something I'd refuse."

"Even if I make you dress up as a medieval jester, have you shout crappy limericks in the high street all day while I get people to throw rotten eggs and tomatoes at ya."

"I would do that," Freed nodded. "I'd be confused about why you'd want me to do that, because that is both a very odd and very specific threat. But yes, if that is what you want then I would do it."

"Thought you didn't like getting embarrassed," Laxus teased.

"For you, I don't mind," Freed smiled. "I'm just sorry that it took me this long to realise it."

"Enough apologising, it doesn't suit you," Laxus laughed.

"Fair," Freed grinned, before his mind went back slightly. "Where on earth did the idea of dressing me up as a jester, having me shout limericks and throwing eggs at me come from?"

"Ah, Mirajane was acting like I was some heartbroken teenager and kept trying to cheer me up," Laxus laughed. "In the end it was either going to the spa with her and her sister, or watching a crappy TV Movie while eating ice cream. After the villain of the movie lost his money, he had to advertise a crappy medieval restaurant and that's what ended up happening to him. Thought it suited you."

"You think I deserve the same fate as a TV movie villain?" Freed chuckled. "Is that what you see me as, a villain?"

"Fuck yeah I do," Laxus grinned. "But I think villains are hot, so don't feel bad."

"I consider it a compliment," Freed laughed, before groaning. Laxus frowned at him. "On the topic of me being a villain, it is entirely possible that I offended basically everyone important to you before I found you."

"How the fuck did you do that?" Laxus cackled.

"I may have ranted at them for a while, and told them to mind their own fucking business."

"For fucks sake," Laxus laughed. "You really don't make things easy for yourself, do ya?"

Freed just laughed, and as he did he felt his head rest against Laxus' by accident. He opened his eyes to see that their foreheads were resting against each other. Their laughter died, and Freed felt his pace increase again. His heart hammered heavily in his chest, and he could feel a buzzing anticipation flow through him.

It was a similar sensation to when he had kissed Laxus in the car. Anticipation grew and grew, as if whatever happened next was inevitable. A rush of adrenaline pushed him forward slightly, and he was so incredibly aware of how Laxus' roaming eyes were flicking between his eyes and his lips.

They were going to kiss.

And, somehow, he knew it would be better this time. Because this wasn't a mistake, this wasn't Freed giving into his urges against his better judgment. This was something that he and Laxus wanted, and perhaps they were owed at this point.

But Laxus' reasoning for not starting a relationship rushed back to his mind, and stopped him from moving forward.

"Laxus," He whispered. "I though you wanted to wait until we started dating."

"I do," Laxus whispered back. "But I also wanna kiss you so fucking bad right now. And you got a poorly timed kiss, it's my turn."

In that moment, there was no doubt in Freed's mind that he and Laxus were meant to be together.

And then, Laxus took Freed into a beautiful, passionate, incredible kiss. It was everything.

[eeriefeelingsat3amuwu]

Oc’s

Nina Heath

Skin tone: dark

Eye color: blue

Hair: curly, dark brown with a blue ombre

Height: 158cm

Weight: 90kg

Age: 23

Gender: nonbinary

Sexuality: bisexual

Details: vitiligo on their left shoulder/right hip/stomach/back/over the left eye, eyebrow piercing, nose ring, lip ring, ears pierced all the way up, sleeve tattoos on both arms, tattoos all over their body (thighs, ankles, torso, back, calves,...)

Personality: confident, chaotic good, gremlin, dumb but kinda smart, loyal, would kill for their friends, would kill their friends, angry, smol and chubby, disastrous bisexual, scary, yell-a-lot, bunnies!, strong, caring

Hobbies: baking, crocheting, arguing, painting nails, reading (but their head hurts), cuddling, kissing, calming their girlfriend down, Fighting with people who hurt their friends/girlfriend (is totaly the embodiment of:

Nina: You made Sophia cry!

Tray: Sophia always cries!

Sophia, crying: That’s not true...)

Hates: dysphoria, homophobes, transphobes, Karens, birds, tall people who make fun of them, their glasses (but their head hurts if they don’t wear them), contacts (but their head hurts if they don’t wear them), headaches

Job: baker

Sophia Georgening

Skin tone: caramel

Eye color: green

Hair: really messy,straight (unlike her), bob cut with a triangle undercut at the back if her head, ginger

Height: 186cm

Weight: 78kg

Age: 24

Gender: cis woman

Sexuality: lesbian

Details: freckles all over her face and shoulders, bushy eyebrows with an eyebrow cut in the left one, tongue piercing, tattoo of a Phoenix on her back between the shoulder blades, Nina and a heart tattooed on her right bicep, ripped (seriously, she’s buff, she has abs, biceps, triceps, she could crush a melon with her thighs, the CaLvEs,...), wears her hair tied up in a messy bun almost 90% of the time, vegetarian and whenever she eats a product that came from an Animal like milk or an egg, she apologizes to said animal

Personality: calm, thoughtful, lawful good, a TrEe, loving, caring, silent, secretly anxious, strict, tidy, colected, extremely smart but almost never shows it, a bottom, sensitive, crybaby

Hobbies: blacksmithing, archery (but she never shoots at living targets and cries when she needs to shoot at plastic animals), working out, running, kickboxing (even tho she apologizes to her oponent afterwards), helping people out, petting animals, kissing, cuddling

Hates: sad movies, Animal cruelty, mean people, social interactions (but she’s good at hiding it), not much else, she thinks that everyone deserves another chance and that all people have some good in them

Job: works in a flower shop, part time blacksmith/gym trainer

Tray Black

Skin tone: light

Eye color: yellow

Hair: short, bright blue

Height: 175cm

Weight: 69kg

Age: 20

Gender: genderflux (using all pronouns, mostly they/them, so they’ll be refered to as such while description is going on)

Sexuality: asexual panromantic

Details: nose ring (changes up every day), extravagant earrings, sleeve tattoo on their right arm, a snake tattooed around their left thigh, colorful/black clothing (they either look like a neon paint bomb or as a black hole), they rarely bind but pack rather often (bottom dysphoria is worse then the top one), a lot of rings and bracelets (you always know when they’re near since you hear clanking), hats, always wearing earphones

Personality: they’re really extra in every way, chill, sarcastic, funny, flegmatic, pesimistic, both love and hate attention, very competitive, potterhead but hates JK, totaly a Slytherin (and not just because of the snakes), a bit arrogant, very good leader, very very smart, good at arguments (seriously, you so don’t want to get into an argument with them, they’ll obliterate you)

Hobbies: singing, drums, gaming, playing the guitar, sketching people/sceneries, reading (mostly sci-fi/fantasy), dying hair, combining jewelry with clothes, listening to music, taking care of their pet sneks

Hates: shoping, overplayed pop songs, dogs, teeth, the summer (it’s too damn hot for them), homophobes/transphobes, J.K. Rowling, terfs, politics (the people)

Job: part time at Nina’s bakery, studying politology and sociology, in the school band

Connor Wearings

Skin tone: lightly tanned (not as pale as Tray but not as dark as Sophia)

Eye color: heterochromia - left eye is green, right eye is grey

Hair: curly, short, hazelnut brown

Height: 168cm

Weight: 64kg

Age: 21

Gender: demiboy (using he/him pronouns but not quite cis)

Sexuality: asexual, aromantic

Details: freckles. everywhere., always smiling (he’s got dimples), dressed freely (skirts, dress, pants, blouses, shirts, heels, crop tops, hoodies,...), he’s really comfortable in his body and yet he’s not fully comfortable with all that comes with it, smol bean, the cutest little pout, ALWAYS covered in paint, fingers are pernamently covered in bandaids, wears a bandana to hold his hair back while working

Personality: he’s a total sweetheart, kind, helpful, outgoing, happy-go-lucky, loving, caring, funny, always laughing/smiling, really hard to piss him off, really easy to make him upset (another embodiement of ‘he always cries), ‘Maybe I can drink my problems away’ *opens capri-sun*, dog lover, puppy-like personality, loyal

Hobbies: drawing, cooking, baking, petting animals, fluffy things!, crocheting, sewing, painting, dressing up, making tea, helping his friends, hugging, holding hands, platonic relationships

Hates: arguments, people who make fun of someone, rude people, loud music, the dark, the cold, octopuses, dark colors, unfinished jobs

Job: studying art, psychology and doing a baking course at the moment (very productive and capable), working a part-time at a convinience store and a daycare centre (the kids love him)

Abram Hayze

Skin tone: dark

Eye color: hazelnut

Hair: deep brown, curly and fluffy

Height: 197cm

Weight: 78kg

Age: 19

Gender: agender - e/em/eir/emself pronouns

Sexuality: pansexual, demiromantic

Details: e has a lot of moles all over eir body, mostly presents androgynous, yet sometimes likes to present feminine, had very unaccepting parents so whenever e is forced to go to a more profesional setting or to meet with older people, e presents masculine even though e hates it, very proud of eir hair, love to play with them when e’s nervous and try new hairstyles all the time, e never dyes it tho, piercings on both ears, piercing under the lip, piercing in the bellybutton

Personality: e is really calm, likes to think and be alone, yet also loves to spend time with eir friends, smiling a lot, always there when someone needs em, really perceptive and no one really knows how e does it, but e seems to know about a lot of stuff that other people don’t (it’s just the fact that e is very trustworthy and so a lot of people let their guard down around em), e is also really into debates, but not the political ones like Tray, eir partner, but rather ones about books, headcannons and interests, e is also really sneaky and likes to play tricks and pranks on people, especially confusing them with the food that e eats, e is chaotic good

Habbies: reading, hiding around places and letting emself be found in the most ridiculous positions, putting stuff on the top shelves when e is hanging out with eir friends (the short ones), sitting in strange places where no one knows how e got in, sleeping

Hates: homophobes/transphobes, people with no sense of humor, long waits, queues, places with a lot of people, the dark

Job: studying psychology, working part-time in a hairdressing shop

Tenzin Arish

Skin tone: slightly tanned

Eye color: purple

Hair: deep black, short (one side is totaly buzzed and the other is a bit longer) the ends are bleached and dyed (purple, blue, green, pink) depending on their mood

Height: 164cm

Weight: 58kg

Age: 22

Gender: nonbinary (xe/ xeir/ xem)

Sexuality: queer

Details: xe are really skinny and fairly androgynous, no one actually knows what xeir biological sex is and xe aren’t gonna tell anyone anytime soon, xe present androgynously, yet sometimes xe like to present masc/fem, depending on the day, xe love xeir hair and that’s why xe dye them so often, if xe don’t like the color, it can even change daily

Personality: sarcasm and irony are the two languages xe speak in, xe like coffee and practicaly live off of it, no one ever saw xem sleep, xe are always online and always awake when someone knocks on xeir door at any time (so xeir friends know that when they need a friend, xe will be awake whenever they decide to come there), xe love helping people with their mental problems yet xe never try to solve xeir own, the only other language xe speak is memes

Hobbies: taking care of stray animals, helping people out (whether it’s an old lady who needs to cross the street or a protestor who needs protection from the rubber bullets/tear gas), protesting, breaking down gender boundaries, educating people on the LGBTQ+ history, history itself, archeology, xe love caves and everything that has to do with geology

Hates: homophobes/transphobes, terfs, anyone who’s stupidly using history (especially against the LGBTQ+ comunity), plants (xe have alergies), flowers (xe think it’s overated)

Job: part-time job in a museum, studying history and geology

Okay, so I hope you enjoy...this? Please inform me if my autocorrect misgendered one of my sweethearts, I proofread it but one can never be so sure. To be clear: all of them hate transphobes/homophobes, racists, terfs, neon*zis, Tr*mp supporters and everyone else who is somehow harming people or disrespecting their rights, I just really didn’t have the willpower to write everything of this down in every Single one of the hate columns because that would mean I have to think about it and that would do me no good, because I really didn’t want to have a mental breakdown while writing about my oc’s. That’ll be all, thanks for comming to my TED talk.

Tags: @exhaustedauthor @definietlynotsatan @detroit-become-snail @nyamafriend and @ anyone who wants to read this. Bye!

[lovemesomesurveys]

Have you cuddled with someone today? No.

Can you smell anything right now? I smell my coffee.

Have you spoken to a relative on the phone today? No, not so far anyway. My mom will likely call to check on me later.

Do you use the toilet paper with the colourful designs on it? No.

Do you wear your hair up or down most often? It’s always up in a messy bun.

How does alcohol affect you? It made me chatty and annoying I feel like and I’d have fun for awhile, but then most often ended up feeling sad and shitty towards the end. And sometimes sick. :X I don’t miss drinking at all.

When was the last time you had a cold or flu? Over a year ago.

What was the first thing you ate today? I had scrambled eggs and blueberry Eggos. 

Do you have anything more important you should be doing right now? No.

Do you still buy the paper or do you get your news elsewhere? I’ve never bought the paper. I get a lot of my news from the news app on my phone and online. 

Have you ever eaten tofu and if so, did you enjoy it? No, I’ve never had any desire to try it. 

Have you worn make-up today? Nope. I haven’t worn makeup in like 4 years now.

Do you ever get dizzy and nauseous when you’re extremely tired? Not nauseous, but dizzy sometimes. 

Have you ever tried lemon brownies? No, but that sounds delicious.

Can you hear anything right now? The ASMR video I’m listening to.

What was the last type of meat you ate? Pork.

What colour is your toothpaste? White.

Have you taken any medication today? Yes.

Have you ever been suspended from school? Nope.

Have you ever inhaled helium? No, I’ve always been too afraid to try it lol.

Have you bought something that was on sale today? I haven’t bought anything today.

Are you a fan of Adam Sandler? I like some of his movies.

What was the last fruit you ate? There were blueberries in my Eggos, ha.

Off the top of your head how many aisles are in the supermarket you shop at? We do our grocery shopping at Walmart, there’s a ton of aisles. 

Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? I’ve seen some episodes.

Have you watched a movie this week? Nope.

How far away is the closest McDonald’s from your house? Like not even 5 minutes away.

Have you ever been to a wedding? Yeah, a few.

What is your favourite kind of pasta? Spaghetti and meatballs, pesto, ravioli, and pasta salads. 

Have you set an alarm today? No.

When was the last time you visited relatives? I saw one of my aunts a few months ago.

Have you asked someone for advice today? No.

What was the last website you were on, other than this one? LiveJournal hunting for surveys.

Did you ever play Habbo Hotel? No.

Do you speak any languages other than English? Only a little Spanish.

Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but I’d love to go.

Have you watched more than an hour of TV today? Yeah.

What’s your best talent? I don’t have any.

Do you know anyone named Nicole? Nope.

Have you ever had a true FML moment? Uh, yeah. A lot.

Are you considering having children right now? Nooo. I don’t want to have kids.

Do you enjoy the darkness? No.

Are you afraid of being single? No.

Do you have a new boy-/girlfriend every week? Ha, not even close. I’ve been single for several years and haven’t even been talking to or interested in anyone for the past few years.

How much memory does your computer have? I don’t feel like checking.

Do you play video games? Sometimes.

What color are your eyes? Brown. Is your hair layered? No.

What’s the closest yellow thing to you? Some of my leftover scrambled eggs.

Have you ever shot an animal? No, omg.

Do you exercise daily? I don’t at all, but I just got some little 3lbs hand weights because being bedridden and dealing with health issues has made me loose strength, so I need to start trying to build that back up. Slowly.

Can you do cool things with your hair? I haven’t attempted to in a very long time, it’s just always thrown up in a messy bun cause I don’t have the energy to deal with it. I’m going to cut it short again soon, actually. I was never good at styling hair, though.

Do you have a couch in your house? Yeah, we have 3.

Would you like to have a soda machine in your room? That would be kinda cool, ha. I’d have some sodas and some Starbucks Doubleshot energy drinks in it.

Are you impatient? Very.

Would you pay someone to drive you around everywhere? Nah.

Do you think soap operas are too good to be true? I think soap operas suuuper cringe. I can’t watch ‘em.

Are you conscious of your weight? Very.

Have you ever jumped out of a window? No.

What kind of mood are you usually in? Moody, irritable, depressed, frustrated, tired, blah.

Do you have a webcam? My Mac has one built in but I’ve never used it.

Do you finish other people’s sentences? Sometimes.

How many pairs of shoes do you own? A few.

When’s your birthday? July 28th.

Do you feel important where you’re at right now? Huh?

Are you short-tempered? It takes a lot to get me angry, but not irritated that’s for sure.

Have you ever been homeless? No.

How many online accounts do you have? >> A lot? I'm not going to try to tally them up. 

Do you drive through red lights? I don’t drive at all, but if I did I wouldn’t be driving through red lights and possibly causing accidents or worse for others or myself.

What sound puts you to sleep? ASMR can help with that.

Are you a fast or slow reader? Fast.

Are you a good speller? I think I am.

Do you have a TV in your bedroom? Yes.

How long can you go without sleeping? It varies, but it’s funny cause I’m sitting here doing this and my eyes are getting heavy, ha. I’m still tired. I had a busy day yesterday for the first time in over a year and I’ve been going through a lot health wise the past couple months and have been very fatigued.

How long can you go without talking? Awhile. Especially these days.

Do you currently have a job? No.

Do you tend to always be in some sort of drama? No.

Do you collect quarters from every state? Nope.

Would you rather sleep all night or sleep all day? Sleep all night.

Do you hate getting up early? I’d much rather sleep in.

Could you see yourself being a bartender? Nah. Not my thing at all.

Have you ever been in an abusive relationship? No.

Are you currently tired? Ugh, yes. I can’t keep my eyes open. 

What was the last thing you had to drink? Coffee.

Do you like to take walks? No.

Have you ever had deja vu? Yeah, many times.

Are you a fan of anime? No.

Do you draw a lot? I don't draw at all.

Do you plan on going to college? I did and graduated already.

Do you feel at home in your own home? Yes.

Do you pay for your own cell phone bill? No. I’m on a family plan that my parents and brother take care of.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #332

i’m even more tired than before to try and think up song lyrics, i’m pasting from Word and then fucking off to bed lmao.

What was the last video message you received on your phone? I think it was a clip of Doris (Sara's beardie) eating and just being her perfect self? Was your last birthday cake homemade or store bought? Store-bought. One thing you miss about middle school? Shit, nothing. Middle school was the worst. Do you have any shirts signed by famous people? No. Have you ever entered an art competition? Yes. Would you ever pierce yourself? No. I am very much about having a professional do your body mods/art. Plus, I have tremors in my hands. Do you live in a safe neighbourhood? Supposedly. We haven't lived here nearly long enough to know. What is the last thing you did that shocked someone? /shrug Do you often find yourself questioning your future? Only always. Have you ever been for a ride in the back of a truck? Yeah. Do you like your license photo? I hate my permit picture. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favorite? Not very, but I like 'em enough. I always say my favorite is Deadpool, but I know he's technically an anti-hero, but whatever. If you don't include him, uhhhh... maybe Spiderman. Have you started watching any new TV shows recently? No. Have you ever been able pet a normally wild animal, like a tiger or dolphin? No. :( At least, not to my recollection. Have you ever eaten snow? Yeah. There's actually a winter treat 'round here that you make with snow and sugar called snow cream. Good stuff. What is the messiest area in your home? Right now, the spare room/my wanna-be "office." What’s your favorite computer game genre? Still horror, like video games. Do you have any exes your parents never liked? No. Have you received financial help from your parents in the past 5 years? I'm completely financially dependent on them still. Are you a fast or a slow eater? I eat like, stupid fast, but without being messy. People *cough*Mom*cough* will absolutely point it out, but I seriously can't help it. Making a conscious effort to eat slow feels way too weird. What was the last thing you purchased from a small local business? I don't know. Is there anyone in your family/household whom you frequently argue with? No. Have you ever used chewing tobacco? Ew, no. Tell me what's on your mind? I've been considering yet again reaching out to some tattoo parlors and asking if they're open to hiring someone to handle the front desk and take care of business besides actually performing piercing and tattooing, given my tremors. My group therapy has kinda been encouraging me to use the possibility for social exposure, and besides, I'm very comfortable in the environment and just general aura of tat parlors. I'm sure I'd have to answer the phone, handle money, and obviously talk to costumers, but I know and accept that. I've been at such a stagnant point with my social anxiety in particular that I have to start pushing back harder, and doing this I feel would be one of the most relaxed, social job positions I can hopefully handle. I don't dare to even try this though until I get vaccinated to protect my immunocompromised mom. Writing this all out has actually been pretty encouraging about this idea... Do you wish you never dated someone you dated? Yeah, Tyler. It was such a "I'm lonely and he was nice in high school, so we'll try it" situation. I got nothing from it. Are you scared of growing old alone? Pretty badly. What are you listening to right now? I'm listening to/semi-watching John Wolfe play the remaster of Resident Evil 2. What breed was the last dog you saw? He was a German shepherd. Would you ever go swimming during a thunderstorm? No. Any time a thunderstorm was brewing and I was in the pool, I'd always get out. What is the next concert you will attend? Mom and I plan to see Ozzy when/if he reschedules his tour after he had to cancel with his Parkinson's diagnosis. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :/ What's the highest science class you have taken? I don't know, actually. What makes you squeal like a school girl? No shame, seeing Mark and Amy do something cute together actually does this, lmao. What’s your favorite symbol? (i.e. the pentagram, the cross, etc.) Do fictional ones count? Because in that case, the Halo of the Sun from the Silent Hill franchise. I'm getting it tattooed somewhere at some point, I'm thinking the left side of my neck. I'm either gonna fashion it in a way where it looks branded on or carved into me. Have you ever been on anti depressants? For all of my pre-teen, teen, and some of my adult life. Apparently, I've only had one truly educated psychiatrist out of no less than a dozen I'd seen, because he fixed me right up. He taught me that those who suffer from bipolarity should avoid anti-depressants; they ramp up your bipolar symptoms. Instead, mood stabilizers are favorable. And what do you know, after I was prescribed a stabilizer and a catalyst for that medication, my depression decreased dramatically and became handleable. Have you ever starved yourself? Kinda. What’s the stupidest name you’ve ever given a pet? I had a guinea pig named Harry Potter. For no particular reason lmao. I'm not even a Harry Potter fan. Do you have nice legs? God no. Do you like fedoras? Okay so I know I am in the strong minority, but I actually do, haha. What is your favorite food group? Carbs. @_@ Have you ever got told that you should be a model? No, but one of the most flattering indirect compliments I've ever gotten was being mistaken for one. Jason's phone wallpaper was one of my favorite pictures of myself with my first snake, and someone asked him if I was a model. ;v;' What song is in a language you don’t speak, but you love it anyway? "Donaukinder" by Rammstein is one of my faves. Who’s a villain you sympathize with and why? SOBS Darkiplier bc his origins are so damn tragic and unfair. What book do you think should be directed as a film? Was The Giver ever made into one? I don't remember that book well, but I do recall it being absolutely beautiful. Have you ever found a stranger’s note somewhere? If so, what did it say? No. Have you ever edited Wikipedia? No. Have you ever edited any other wiki? Yeah. I have thousands on the Silent Hill wiki, where I'm one of the admins. I'm also a content moderator at the Team Ico (Shadow of the Colossus devs) one. Every now and again I used to go on the meerkats wiki as well, where I mainly fixed the fucking nightmarish grammar. Very briefly, I edited at the Dragons of Atlantis wiki as well. Do you get scared when you know some virus or sickness is being passed? Not very, but of course I still acknowledge the risk and am more conscious of hand washing and stuff. What popular social media platforms AREN’T you on? Snapchat, I don't actually use my Twitter, I don't have a personal Instagram... There may be more, idk. Is TikTok a "social media platform?" Because I don't have that, either. What was the name of the first porcelien doll you got? Never had one, given I was afraid of dolls as a kid. What’s your favorite Paramore song? "Decode." Would you be happy with a life without romance? To be entirely honest, I'd feel like I was missing something. Was your childhood happy? Mostly. What fundamentally matters do you? Love, kindness, peace, all that gooey stuff. Is true world peace ever possible? As much as I hate to admit it, I don't think so. The human population is far too big to come to a unanimous agreement on anything. Do you hold yourself to higher standards than you hold others? Yeah. Would you ever own a pet black widow spider? No. I'm getting more into the idea of owning invertebrates (I jabber enough about wanting tarantulas, and there are others, like mantises, I'm interested in as pets), but black widows, I'm not into the idea of having. Too venomous for me to be comfortable risking. If you have a job, what is the longest shift that you've worked? N/A Do you know all of the words to "Bohemian Rhapsody?" FUCK YES I DO. ^ Do you sing it with all of the different voices? sho nuff Do you own more than one copy of a certain book? No. Do you like interpreting poetry or just reading it for fun? Both. I love symbolism, so I get joy out of digging for subtle meanings in poems. Do you have a favorite Dr. Suess book? Yeah, it was always Green Eggs and Ham. Do you watch The Walking Dead? If so, favorite character? Not the show, but I've watched let's plays of the games, haha. In which case Clementine is inarguably one of the best female characters in a video game universe. Who has/had the most mature romantic relationship you’ve seen with your own eyes? Uhhh. I mean I never saw them much, but probably my late grandmother and her last husband. He was fucking incredible to her, and Grammy adored him as well. They helped each other so much and just obviously had the purest love between them. When was the last time you got something for free (legally)? What was it & have you enjoyed it so far? Lmao do balls in Pokemon GO count? Their occasional free boxes are the reason I can play the game because PokeStops are essentially non-existent here, so yes. What is the one fruit you can’t stand to eat? How about vegetable? The first one that came to me were oranges. I enjoy orange juice, but I just caaaaannot with the white veiny shit that you can't totally get off when peeling it. Without that, I might actually enjoy them, but idk. As for vegetable, asparagus is absolutely abhorrent. When’s the last time you actually recited the pledge? If you aren’t American, do/did you have anything similar in your country that you do during a time at school? Probably not since high school. Last person you shared food with? Ummm I have no idea. It's really just Mom and me here and we eat our own stuff. What was the last song you heard for the first time and enjoyed? I believe it waaas... "Down In The Park" by Marilyn Manson, maybe. If your life was a TV show, what would be the theme song? My inner high school emo just screamed "All Signs Point to Lauderdale" by AD2R. Who are some of your favorite female fictional characters, and why? Gahdamn, there's a lot. I don't feel like going through a mental list in my head and then describing why. A character (in anything) you wish hadn’t been killed off? Vol'jin; I think the entire WoW fanbase will forever be pissed about it. It was THE most "lul we dunno what 2 do w/ him anymore, let's let a totally random, unnamed, unimportant demon kill him" like what the fuck, Blizz. Most of his "oomph" was in the book, and I just really wish they'd done so much more with him in the game. Has anything “cute” happened in the past week? Off the top of me noggin, no. When did you last say “I love you”? Did you mean it? Yesterday to Sara. OF course I did. Is there someone who pops into your mind at random times? Hi, PTSD, how are ya. Have you ever slept all day? Essentially. When I was on a larger dose of my anxiety med, I physically couldn't stay up for barely even five minutes, and when I'd lie back down, boom, I was OUT. I stayed on that dosage for I think just that one day, it was so bad. Can you have kids? Well, I have a functioning menstrual cycle, so I would assume so. Doesn't mean I will, though. What colors of mascara have you worn on your lashes? Only black. Do you like eating sour things? Hell yeah, I love sour stuff, candy in particular. Do you like pickles? fuuuuck yeah Did you ever have a really close friend move away? Yeah, in elementary school. I feel bad I can't remember her name at the moment... What's the most creative thing you've ever done? I mean, I guess the things I've written in RP. What's the most creative thing someone has done for you? For me? I don't really know. Do you like to watch ghost-hunting shows? Sure, they're some of my favorites. What’s something you’d like to be better at? Social interaction. Have you ever stayed up to talk to someone who was sad? Yeah. Do you think you would make a good parent? No. I know I wouldn't. The only time I ever wanted kids was with Jason, and honestly, I really hope I don't end up with a man because I never want to deal with that urge again and make a mistake. I'm just in no way emotionally fit to be a mother. How many best friends do you have? Just one. What do you cry over the most? My PTSD, honestly. I never sob about it anymore, just shed some tears. What language did/do you take in high school? Latin for one semester, then all four available for German. Which sports do you follow? None. Who was the last person you talked about marriage or having kids with? About marriage, Sara. Kids, the subject was lightly touched upon with Girt, though "with" was never a part of it, but obviously implied seeing as we were dating with long-term in mind. Have you ever been in a house fire? No, thankfully. Have you ever made out for one straight hour? them is rookie numbers Are you any good at remembering phone numbers? No. I literally don't even know my own, nor my mother's. I need to fix that. Who is your best friend of the opposite sex? Girt. Do you have a bookshelf? If so, just one or how many? No. If I gave you twenty bucks what would you do with it? Save it to go towards Venus' terrarium. Is there a movie from your childhood that you still watch today? Well of course! I'm unashamed to watch any "kids" movie I enjoy, like Disney ones. Most "kids" movies tend to be better than those intended for adults, it seems... Are you afraid of mice? Oh no, I adore mice and I think had a pair as pets before I got rats. What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I can't really answer this; I haven't gone on nearly enough vacations to develop a theme. I can say confidently though it'd probably be something small. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? I don't enjoy musicals. Have you ever watched Doctor Who? One or two with Sara, yes. I know we at least watched the weeping angels episode. If you read, which book or series did you enjoy most as a child? Warriors by S.E. Hinton. Sometimes I wanna get back into them, but I am YEARS behind and more into Wings of Fire anyway, so. I don't read nearly enough for both. How do you get rid of your hiccups? Literally no trick seems to work for me. I just suffer lmao.

[littleredroseonthevalley]

Covered Mirror

Summary: A light bulb creates its own environment, photography creates the photorapher. Does Emma create her relationship, or does it create her?

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Explicit depictions of depressive episodes. Reader discretion is advised.

If those descriptions relate to your or a loved one’s mental state, do not hesitate to call health services operating in your juristiction. It gets better.

Words: 2200

Notes: I vacationed in Noahland, now it’s back to Masonville. Keep the balance or smth.

I’m real proud of this one. I’m happy how it turned out. I think it has weight, but still ends on a hopeful message. I hope you like it too!

Why do I think I’ll be swarmed with anon hate? Is there something I can do that doesn’t end with me swarmed with anon hate?

Marshall McLuhan once said that the light bulb creates its own environment, and Emma Price sometimes cannot help herself but think about it. She creates her photography, and her photography creates a new Emma.

Photography was a visual art. It might have an easier learning curve than, say, sculpting, but it was still an art that demanded perfection and practice. It was necessary to develop an aesthetic sense, an eye for the light. All in all, great abilities to have.

The problem was when that aesthetic sense turned around on her.

After another win for their school football team, Emma stood outside the pitch as the students and their families pass her by, waiting for her boyfriend.

Waiting for her boyfriend to finish talking to Ava Lawrence. The tall, blonde, fit cheerleader.

Emma did not really want to believe that she was jealous of her. Ava was a cool girl; they were friends from the photography club. They even hung out on occasion. Besides, Emma was dating Mason and she trusts him and Ava, so it is not like she should care, but she cares. Too much for her own good.

Emma Price felt like she was far from perfect, while Ava Lawrence was the epitome of perfect. Perfect hair, perfect marks, perfect personality, perfect social life, perfect figure. If she was honest with herself, Emma had to admit that, on her weaker moments, she wanted very much to be friends with her, just so she could absorb some of that perfection by osmosis. She wanted desperately to be like her.

When Mason first asked her out that day in sophomore year high school, after longing after him for so long, she could not have known that dating the most popular boy at school could feel so lonely.

Mason was not a bad boyfriend, much to the contrary. He was an amazing boyfriend. He would never go out of his way to hurt her feelings, but the decline in her self-confidence seemed to be getting to her. It was not about him, it was about her, and sometimes she had difficulty remembering that.

Once he was done speaking to Ava, he ran back over to his girlfriend. The wind hitting his blond hair in a way that was bound to make anyone have a crush on him. He had the widest smile on his face, waiting to talk to her about the game.

“I didn’t think you’d show up.” He said, with a boyish smile gracing his features.

Emma was a little taken aback by this comment. “What do you mean?”

Mason shrugged. “You just haven’t been wanting to hangout or anything... Or just not coming to my games.”

She tallied the season games on her head. He had a point, she concluded.

“Sorry, I’ve been really busy.”

She did not like lying to him, because she knew that after so many years of close relations with each other, he could tell straight away. However, at this instance, he did not bother commenting on it. He concluded she would tell him if something was wrong.

Or at least she used to tell him everything that was wrong. When they were still friends. Before they made their relationship public, and before she heard what everyone had to say about that relationship.

Teens were vicious creatures. They would be nice to her face, supportive and welcoming, but as soon as they thought she could not hear them anymore, their tongues would run amok.

“I don’t even know what he sees in her.”

“Have you seen her hair?”

“Is it just me or she put on weight?”

“What is she even wearing?”

“He could do so much better.”

She began to compare herself to almost every girl in town that said or thought things like that. She started to believe everything they were saying. Some nights, she stood in front of the mirror on her closet door looking unblinkingly at herself.

She did not like what she saw.

It had gotten so bad, she put a blanket over her mirror and tried not to look at herself at all. There were days she barely brushed her hair, days in which she gave up any thought or care into her appearance, into herself.

People saw Mason, with his light hair, football skills and rich parents and thought he was not that bright, and to be fair, he was not going to make it into any honours courses this year, but he was perceptive when it came to Emma. Deep down, he worried about her. He saw how this year at school has affected her, but he could not figure out how to confront her about it.

“Alright, it’s okay. There’s a house party this weekend, though, at Chad’s place. Do you want to go with me?” He asked, but soon amended, trying to lay off pressure of her. “It’s alright if you can’t. I can go by myself, or we could do something else if you’d like.”

She rolled her eyes, and held his hand with a meagre smile, hoping her tone of voice inspires confidence. “Of course, I’d love to go with you. Why do you think I wouldn’t?”

“The last time we spent the Saturday together was last month, at that midnight showing at the movies, remember? We don’t even go out running anymore.” He pointed out. “I’d thought you might like your space on Saturdays.”

“Oh! So it is.” She said, realizing he, again, had a point. “I don’t mind spending the Saturday with you, Mase. Guess I’ve just been a little overwhelmed these days.”

“Good! It’s a date, then!” The boy beamed. “Would you like me to drive you home? I’m done here.”

Before she could answer, though, a high whistle came from their left. Mason’s teammates were hurdled to the side, signalling for him to come. He ignored them, but Emma felt their eyes on the two of them together.

“N-No…” She stutters, shaking her head nervously. “It’s OK. You’d have to drive all the way to my house and then back to yours. It’s too much trouble.”

“It’s no problem, Em. I want to drive you home.” He insisted.

“No, Mason, it’s better if I walk. That’s OK, really. I like walking. I get to admire the scenery, and you never know when inspiration strikes.” She motioned for the camera hung around her neck.

“Oh, well…” His smile falters. “No problem, then. I’ll text you tonight, yeah? And we can spend the Saturday together.”

The girl smiles toothlessly. “Sure, Mase. You should go, your friends are waiting.”

He sighed. “OK, then, I guess. See you, Emma.”

*_*_*_*_*

When Emma, predictably, did not answer her phone that night, nor made any sign to set up a date on Saturday, Mason decided enough was enough and marched his way to the Price household.

He parked his car on the driveway and walked in large, firm steps to the front door, on which he knocked three decisive times.

It opens.

“Hey, Mason.”

“Hello, Mack.” He greeted, stiffly. “Is your sister home?”

She hesitated. “Yes, she is sleeping.”

“This late?” He commented

“Yeah, it’s… Kinda of her thing on weekends now.” The younger girl responded; lips pursed. “Mom and dad are out. Why don’t you come in? I’ll take you to Emma’s room, and I want to speak with you, too.”

The blond nodded. “OK, I’m all ears.”

Mackenzie stepped aside for him to come in, and motioned for him to walk up the stairs.

“Emma is… Well, she is not herself. I think you noticed.” She began, and with Mason’s encouragement, she continued. “I don’t really know what’s up with her. Dad threw a few medical names at it, but we’re all grasping at straws here. He wants to get her on meds, Mom’s holding him back, but even she’s wavering at this point.”

His eyes widen. “I didn’t know it was that serious.”

“It… It’s something, alright.” They stopped in front of Emma’s bedroom door, and Mackenzie lowers her voice. “Look, you’re her boyfriend. I know she loves you. I don’t expect any miracles, and you shouldn’t either, but… I don’t know, try something? Anything.”

He sighed. “I am, but I think I’m not trying hard enough.”

“Just talk to her, OK? Try not to be too aggressive, she doesn’t respond well to that, and brace yourself. It’s ugly in there.”

Mackenzie opens the door slow and quiet, and Mason walks into Emma’s bedroom. As her sister said, she was asleep. He instantly noticed the blanket over the mirror and all the pictures of her on the desk turned down.

To say it was messy was an understatement. Clothes scattered across the floor, everything atop her dresser was on its side, and the blackout curtains on the window were closed.

He sat on the end of her bed and shook her awake.

The girl wakes up in a jolt. “Wha-…”

“Hey, Em.” He greeted, quietly.

“Mason? What’re you doing here?” She blinked in confusion.

“I came to pick you up; we’d agreed to spend the Saturday together.” He said, looking away.

“Oh, right. We did.” She said, pushing the hair out of her face. “Good morning.”

“It’s one o’clock.”

“Same difference.” She chuckled as she sat closer on the bed to him.

He reluctantly shook her off, giving another glance at her dorm and then he sighed tiredly. “Why is your mirror covered?”

Her eyes went wide and she looked down at her hands. She began to pick at her nails subconsciously as an act of nervousness.

“Oh... It’s nothing.” She responded, avoidantly.

He brought his hand up to her chin so she could look at him. “I’m not an idiot, Emma.”

“I know.”

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

She bit her lip, looking back at the picture frame on her bedside table that had a picture of her and Mason when they entered high school. It was face down, like all others, but she felt the need to look at it all of a sudden.

“Everyone says all those things...” She whispered. “It’s really hard to not let it get to you. Especially when the voices inside my own head speak even louder.”

He moved his hand from her chin to her cheek, caressing it, and she automatically leaned into his touch. “They’re all full of shit. They know nothing, they hear nothing. Why do you care for what they have to say?”

She averted her gaze, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Emma, you are the most beautiful girl in this entire school. Of the entire world, I swear.” He insisted.

She chuckled, pulling away from him. “Don’t lie to me, Mason.”

“I’m not!” The boy defended, his body facing her, grey eyes unwaveringly gazing her figure, begging her to look at him. “I mean it, Emma, honestly. There is no one prettier than you to me.”

“There are so many other better girls that would love to be with you, y’know.” She said, quietly. “Like Ava.”

“Like hell she wants to be with me.” He said, humouredly. “She doesn’t even like me that much, and even if she did! Ava Lawrence can’t even compare to you Emma. I can’t believe you would say that.”

She could feel herself crying, and before she knew it, he was wiping her tears away. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He hugged her tightly.

“I feel like I do.” The girl hiccupped. “I’m so stupid. I just cause trouble and worry, and I don’t want to be like that, but I just can’t help myself!”

“I know, Emma, but it’s worth it. You’re worth it.” He assured her, holding her while she cried it out. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix you up and you’ll be better than ever. I’m going to help you, your parents and Mack, too. It’s all gonna be OK.”

He sighed, kissing the crown of her head and getting up. He walked over towards her mirror and pulled the blanket off. He also opened the curtains and placed the pictures back to their original positions.

Afterwards, he asked Mackenzie to come into the room. She took her sister into the bathroom while Mason cleaned up some of the mess, taking the dirty laundry downstairs, the trash out and organized minimally the mountain of papers and photos scattered on every surface.

When Emma and her sister emerged from the bathroom, she had showered, put on some nice clothes and some light make up. It was not much, but it was enough to make her feel better than she had in a long time.

Her boyfriend beamed boyishly at her, and she could not help to smile back. He offered her his hand and they made their way down to the public park on her neighbourhood.

Sitting on the grass, with the sun warming her skin and Mason’s bodily heat against her waist, it was very nice.

Emma had a long way to healthy, and she knew that, but feeling his presence next to her helped a great deal. She felt hopeful, and perhaps he really had a point.

It would all turn out to be OK.

MTFL Masterlist

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Neutral Zone ~ Biker!Bucky x Reader Oneshot

A/N: I literally have no idea. This was intended to be something really different and I don’t know. I hope you enjoy. 

Summary: You need to remind your patrons of the rules 

Rating: T 

Warnings: Language, Brock is a predatory asshole and harasses people,

Word Count: 1014

The night was winding down. The regular club members were posted up around the bar. Final call was just fifteen minutes away and although it would take another hour to clear them out, you were starting to hope that you might make it through without any real confrontations- your sniping with Bucky notwithstanding.

That was until you heard a loud smash and saw poor Mandy soaked in beer and Brock Rumlow towering over her. From your spot behind the bar you could see her mumble something you assumed was an apology with her eyes fixed on the floor as she bent to clean up the broken glass.

You immediately started digging for the broom so she wouldn’t hurt herself.

“You know it’s too bad that your uniform isn’t a white t-shirt. It would look so much better wet,” Brock guffawed loudly.

To her credit, Mandy ignored him. Though you could see the deep red on her cheeks.

“You know you look good on your knees,” he slurred.

“Oh that is it,” you hissed under your breath, stalking out from behind the bar with the broom in hand.

You weren’t sure if you were going to sweep up the glass or beat Brock over the head with it.

Maybe both.

But before you could decide Bucky got in his face, putting himself between you and Brock.

“Time to go, Brock,” he warned in a low voice.

“I’m just paying her a compliment, Winter Soldier,” he sneered the title. “Stay out of it. This isn’t your bar.”

“But it is my territory. Get out.”

“Fuck off, Barnes. This is a neutral zone and you know it.”  

“Get out,” you snarled as you put yourself between him and Mandy.

“Look, princess,” he smirked in a patronizing tone.  

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you snarled.

“I know you think you run things around here.”

“I do run things around here. You know the rules. You harass my staff you’re banned. So get out. And don’t come back.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You suddenly wished you’d grabbed the shotgun instead of the broom. Brock crowded you, getting in your face but you stood your ground. When Brock swung at you, you ducked and came back swinging, catching him hard on the jaw with a right hook.

Brock saw red and took a swing, but Bucky stepped in and took the hit. He then yanked his arm behind his back and marched him out the door. Two other Howlies, Sam and Pietro, followed him out while a younger boy, a new recruit you guessed, made his way over to help clean up.

“Here, let me help,” he offered crouching next to her.  

“It’s okay, Peter,” Mandy sniffed, clearly trying not to cry.

“Why don’t you go dry off,” you suggested. “I’ve got this. I don’t want anyone to get cut.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Go ahead, hon. Peter, is it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Go bring her a bottle of water, and a fresh t-shirt from the stack under the bar.”

He nodded and eagerly followed your instructions.  

You quickly cleaned up the glass and spill and checked on Mandy. She was in a dry shirt and was actually smiling as Peter showed her pictures of his dog.

“You okay, Mandy?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you head out for the night?”

“No, no. I’m fine.”

“Mandy. Go home. Phil and I can take care of closing up.”

“I can give you a ride if you want,” Peter offered.

“I’d like that. I’d really like that.”

“I’ll grab my jacket and keys.”

“I’ll meet you out front.”

You smirked at the puppy love blooming in front of you. Once he had left, you turned to the younger girl.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Brock is banned now. And I’m going to make sure everyone remembers the rules.”

“Thanks, boss.”

You gave her a tight hug, smoothing down her hair.

“Have a good night.”

Once the door closed behind them you walked to the center of the bar, noting that Bucky and the others had returned.

“Listen up,” you snapped. “It seems like you all need a reminder of what the rules are in this bar. So here it. This is a neutral zone. Whoever’s territory lies beyond the threshold of my bar doesn’t matter to me,” you locked you gaze on Barnes, who smirked but didn’t comment. “You harass my staff, you’re banned. You start a fight, you’re banned. You drive drunk, you’re banned. They’re easy rules. Follow ‘em. Or I’ll open this bar up to the public. Got it?”

There were grumbled agreements.  

“Now everybody settle up. Barnes,” you barked. “My office, now.”

You didn’t wait for a response, stalking into your office. You knew he would follow, so you left the door open as you retrieved the first aid kit from your desk.

“You gonna play nurse for me, doll face?”

“Close the door and sit your ass down.”

“Have I mentioned that I kinda like it when you boss me around?” he smirked, following your instructions anyway.

“You know that this bar is neutral. This isn’t your territory. I don’t care if you run the block.”

“He was being a predatory shit and you know it. What did you want me to do? Let him hit you?”

He hissed when you cleaned the cut on his cheek and grabbed onto your hips reflexively.

“Not so tough are you?” you smirked, sealing the cut with a butterfly stitch. “Look, I can take care of myself. It’s my bar. I will take care of dumb assholes.”

He hung his head, leaning it on your stomach.

“I’m sorry, doll. I just hate seeing you in that position. I want to protect you.”

“I know,” you sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, gently tugging his head back so he was looking at you. “But you know the rules. No fights. I really don’t want to have to throw my husband out of my bar.”

He grinned and pulled you down into his lap.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Barnes. Whatever, you say.”

 A/N: Yeah, I was gonna do jerky biker Bucky who ended up with the girl but then I don’t know, I quite paying attention and then they were married. lol. I hope you enjoyed. thanks for reading 

xoxo 

naynay

Tag lists are open (please send an ask) 

Bucky/Sebastian Tag List

@waywardpumpkin

@sadanddeadsoul

@captain-maaarvel

@caylast

@isaxhorror

@run-your-cleverboy

@ria132love

@mbsgr

@hereisanapplepie

@pierrxt-uta

@thejourneyneverendsx

@stevieboyharrington

@catsandbooksinafarawayplace

@mywinterwolf

@andreagf956

Marvel Tag List

@hdthdthdt​  

@sophiatomlinson23

@misty-panther

@supermusicallee

@scarlettsoldier

@acupofhotlatte

@slender--spirit

@petitesmate

Permanent Tag List

@iamwarrenspeace

@jayzayy

@bexboo616

@neoqueen306

@santheweird

@rowenaravencalw

@buckitybarnes

@prxttybirdz

@sergeantjbuckybarnes

@captainsamwlsn

@broitsmydick

@ailynalonso15

@nyxveracity

@queenoftrash97

@walkingtravesty97

@lamia-maizat

@memyselfandmaddox

@lowkeybuckyb

@whiskey2011

@averyrogers83

@lovingpeterparker

@buckybarneshairpullingkink

@beansparker

@coralphantomninja

@xxashy999xx

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@ravennightingaleandavatempus

@paintballkid711

@whosmarisaaarw

@silverkitten547

@yknott81

@mmmmmmmmmchicken

[teaveetamer]

I love dm/cl shippers and their hypocresy. They see Dimitri as the "cute quirky bf" but they only Care about Claude and use Dimitri as a prop, and replaces him when needed. "Dmlix is abusive bc Felix treats Dimitri badly" (ships Claude/Felix) "dimidue is racist and abusive" (ships Claude/Dedue) "dimivain is bad bc Dimitri deserves better" (ships Claude/Sylvain), and so forth. Like, if those characters are THAT bad, why you ship em w/your fave? I'm p tired of this shit.

(2/2) overall I'm tired that most of em only care about claude using the "Dimitri deserves better" as an excuse. If those characters were so problematic, you wouldn't be shipping them with your fave, bc that'll give them a "bad image".

Oh boy there’s like fifteen different things about this anon that I want to talk about and I don’t feel like figuring out how to actually organize my thoughts. So we’re just going to do rambling divided into bullet points.

Can’t say I’m super well acquainted with Dimidclaude shippers and their hot takes at large, since I mostly just avoid the ship if I can help it. That said, it’s not like this is exclusive to Dimiclaude. I think most fandoms have their fans that justify their ship by tearing down ~problematic~ rival ships.

I find the fact that people demand Claude be shipped with the Lions boys kind of amusing. Like... Is it just me, or does it kinda feel like they’re farming the queerest characters to make Claude seem more gay by association? Or is it just because Sylvain, Dedue, and Felix are hot and this is another instance of people just wanting the cute guys to fuck? Either way, get your own damn harem, Claude.

Also I’ve just learned to take “Dimitri deserved better” as the calling card for assholes. 99.9% of the time it’s just used to make Dimitri a prop for whatever unrelated point they’re trying to make, be it a dumb ship argument or the millionth “Edelgard did nothing wrong!” post. I think people have long since figured out that it’s a bad idea to attack Dimitri directly, so they pull this pseudo-sympathy bullshit to try and sneak past people’s bullshit detectors.

It’s not “these characters are problematic” it’s “these relationships are problematic”. They just want one of the characters involved/the aesthetic of the new ship without dealing with the messiness that made that original relationship dynamic problematic to them. Like, I’m not a big fan of Dimilix because their relationship dynamic does really bother me, but I’m also not going to pretend like Felix isn’t going to be a dick in pretty much any of his personal relationships just because I like him with Sylvain more. He’s not a completely different character just because he’s with a different person, he’s just showing a different side of himself.

Dimilix is “abusive” because they think Felix would be nicer to Claude if they ever actually interacted (which is... really unlikely, given how dismissive and aggressive he is with basically all of his support partners). It’s funny that they think that Claude/Felix would somehow inherently be less problematic, because that’s a conclusion they’ve come to entirely in their own heads.

Not really sure how Dimidue is abusive or racist, but that has an extra undertone of “a white person and a PoC in a relationship is inherently racist so just ship the two PoC people together for an unproblematic ship!” and honestly I don’t think there’s enough words in the English language to go over how many different levels of yikes that kind of thinking is. It’s like... Pair the spares, awkward racial undertones edition.

I wish I could argue against “Dimitri deserves better than Sylvain” but honestly every single character deserves better than Sylvain. So they’re technically right, even if their motivations are questionable.

[dbssh]

Do all the prime numbers!!!

2 - What is your character’s happiest memory?

Aja and Hutch would both probably say the day Casey was born.

3 - What’s one skill your character really wishes they had?

Aja really wishes she could play music. She also wants nice handwriting but thats neither here nor there.

5 - Do they like music? If so, what kind of music do they enjoy?

I ACTUALLY HAVE PLAYLISTS SPECIFICALLY FOR THIS. aja, casey, victor, and hutch

7 - Have they ever encountered someone they really wanted to kill?

well. aja and victor have definetly at some point wanted to kill each other so theres that!

11 - What was something they struggled with greatly and how did they overcome it?

Aja has always struggled with self-worth and morality. Honestly she still hasn't really "overcome" it entirely.

13 - Does your character have anyone that they really care about, to the point that they would give their life for them?

In all honesty, Aja would probably die for anyone if thats what was necessary. She's got a big thing about being Heroic and Good and if protecting someone else, anyone else, means putting her own life in danger, she'll do it without hesitation.

17 - How was their childhood? Did their parents treat them fairly? Did they have any really good friends?

Hutch's childhood was pretty nice, until their mom passed. Their best friends were their brothers and cousins, and they didn't really ever have a lot of friends outside of that.

19 - Have they ever lost a loved one?

uhhh well. uh. the only one who hasnt actually lost anyone is Casey. everyone else is just like. My whole family is dead dot jpeg.

23 - Does your character know any languages apart from their native language? What one would they like to learn?

Victor speaks german and french, Hutch speaks spanish and gnomish, and Casey speaks spanish. Aja knows a little spanish but not really enough to be fluent, and she'd like to learn more.

29 - If they could change just one thing about themselves, what would it be?

Hutch would make themselves taller, Casey would make herself shorter. Victor would fix his eyesight so he didn't need glasses anymore. Aja is very adamant that she will not edit her body and that she has to learn to coexist with it and that thinking about this kind of stuff is a waste of time.

31 - How patient is your character with others? Do they find it easy to handle people that try and bug them, or hard?

Aja has worked very very hard to learn to be patient and calm, and she's kind of hard to irritate. Hutch is, on the other hand, very irritable especially if you hit em in the right place. They're kinda insecure lol. Victor is also pretty insecure and irritable tho he tends to just get mopey when his ego is bruised.

37 - How advanced is the technology in your character’s world? Do they have mobile phones and high-tech computers yet or have they far surpassed that?

my worldbuilding technique is called "exactly what i need it to be for the scene with very little internal consistency and just trust me guys".

41 - Where do they live? What is that place like, do they enjoy living there?

Aja and Hutch live in the little middle of nowhere town Hutch grew up in. It's really nice! they live about 30 minutes from the town proper so theyre pretty isolated, and its a small town made of mostly non-human folk anyways so they don't really have to worry about things like they do in bigger cities.

43 - What are they like when they’re drunk?

Aja can't get drunk so she doesnt drink. Hutch is like... themselves but a bit more bold with less self control. sometimes they get really mopey though.

47 - If your character could be any other species, what would they be?

i dont know! never thought about it

53 - Do they have an alternate form?

victor has his lich form! and casey has (redacted)

61 - What would have to be the most interesting thing about where your character lives?

uhhh idk! its very plain and a bit old-fashioned.

71 - How is your character’s bedroom? Is it small, big, colourful, simple, messy, organised, filled with their things, shared…? 

aja and hutch's room is mostly bed because they have a Large bed because it has to be big enough to fit aja comfortably, but they also have lots of shelves and drawers and just Stuff! they both have a lot of little things they collected over the years and they both love having Things so. lots of knicknacks and photos and souviniers.

73 - If your character knew what they know now when they were younger would they do things in their life differently?

this is actually one of the big points of tension between aja and victor, because she doesnt like to wonder about this kind of thing and for him, thinking about how he couldve done everything differently is one of the Only things he thinks about. but no, Aja wouldnt really change anything if given the opportunity because she doesnt want to put the life she has now, with Hutch and Casey, in jepoardy, and she doesnt know if she would be there without what happened in her past. Victor would do literally everything differently if given the chance tho. this man has never made a decision he didnt regret.

79 - Which one do they prefer; knowing when they die or how they die?

hutch doesnt really care either way, they try to live in the moment. Aja would want to know when, Victor would want to know how so he could do everything in his power to avoid it.

83 - Have they ever had to tell someone a lie to protect them? Did they regret doing it or not?

this is a bitch answer but no not really

89 - Does your character like the ocean, or are they more of a land person? Perhaps they prefer specific bodies of water, like ponds and rivers, or specific locations on the land, like forests and mountains?

Aja loves the ocean, but shes equally as passionate about any bit of nature. Hutch cant swim 😔 they prefer the land, with a definite love of hot places and desert areas. Casey loves any and all natural places like her mama. Victor doesnt give a shit either way but mountains are ok i geuss.

[songficsbyrissi]

imma just tell you to do 1 thru 80. yep the whole list lol

Damn anon 😭🥴 that’s a lot but fuck it

what’s your favourite memory?

Going to ATL and visiting the trap museum. Ended the night with some Krab Queenz! I wanna go back 🥺

what song(s) describe your mood right now?

Bored in the house and I’m in the house bored by some dude on TikTok (I don’t use TikTok but I know that’s from TikTok)

tea or coffee?

Tea! Green tea to be exact

sunsets or sunrises?

Both are pretty but imma go with sunrises

vanilla, chocolate or strawberry?

Are we talking ice cream or a man? Cuz I think it’s obvious I love chocolate men 😛😛😛

rain or sun?

🌞

is your first language english? if not, what is it?

Yes it is.

do you like your ice crushed or in big blocks?

Big blocks!

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

My face. Lol I don’t like my face. I wish I was cuter and my skin wasn’t acne prone 😭

who are you closest to, your father or mother?

Im not really close to either tbh. We don’t have a bad relationship but I’m not close to either of them. I got the same bond with both of them

what time period would you like to live in other than your own?

The time period where I’m rich.

is it hot or cold right now?

Hot 🥵

what is your accent?

I don’t think I really have one lol. Then again no one thinks they have one. I would say Boston but I don’t have the stereotypical one y’all think about. White Bostonians have that and I’m full nigga.

has anyone ever saved you from a situation? if so, what happened?

I was on verge of dying when I was a infant and my grandma saved me. Gotta love those island remedies.

who did you last hug?

I have no clue because I am not really a hugger 😂

who are your top 5 fictional characters?

In no order whatsoever:

1. Any of the characters from Brooklyn Nine Nine. (I love that show and every character is hilarious

2. Sakura from the anime Naruto (shorty gets way too much hate for no reason and I hate it)

3. Izuku/Deku from My Hero Academia (he’s so adorable)

4. Todoroki from my hero academia

5. Jay from Big Mouth

how have you changed in the past year or two?

I’m more educated, more understanding, and acknowledging I’m not a bad person but I’m not a perfect person. I got flaws but I’m not toxic

biggest regret(s)?

I don’t like regret things cuz I’d like to believe everything happens for a reason but what I do regret is probably not going away for college. I mean on the bright side I saved a shit load of money but that freedom would’ve been amazing 😢

biggest fear(s)?

Snakes, Heights, Republicans holding a vast majority in Congress, and ending up unhappy in life.

is your room messy or clean?

Tbh it’s messy right now but it’s not my fault 😭 I share a room.

have you ever had a near death experience?

Besides what happened when I was an infant, nah.

favourite scent?

Vanilla Cake or Birthday cake. I love bakery scents to smell. As for the scents to wear, it can be anything but it gotta be sweet and pleasing to the nose.

would you survive a zombie apocalypse?

Yep cuz imma stay my black ass home and board up the windows.

what lyric(s) do you love?

“If I fall, dust it off and regain my self

Fuck 'em all, they don't know all the pain I felt” - J.Cole

what do you like about yourself?

My humor.

what would you change about yourself?

A lot. I rather not go into detail 😭

do you like your handwriting?

Yeah I think it’s cute. Could be better.

how do you like to style your hair?

I switch up my hair so many times. I like it down with a side part.

what time is it?

At the time I’m at this question, it is 10:07 PM

what time did you wake up today?

12:30ish

what are your bad habits?

Not putting my clothes in a hanger after coming home 😭

what was your first fandom?

I’ve been in fandoms before I even knew what they were but my first tumblr was Chrae.

burger or pizza?

I love pizza but I be craving burgers more.

do you have any unusual talents?

I don’t think so. I mean I can roll my tongue in that clover shape but that’s it lol

when did you last feel infinite?

I’m not sure what this means 😂

when did you last cry?

A while back, by myself at 2 AM.

who was the latest person to see you cry?

No one. I don’t like crying in front of people.

best movie?

A Goofy Movie

best tv series?

Brooklyn Nine Nine.

have you ever wrote fanfiction?

Lol this is fanfiction so yeah

are you happy?

Nope

do you really relate to your zodiac?

Yeah. I’m an ♈️ and I match some of the traits

what year was you born in?

1998 🙈

do you often find yourself jealous?

Nope

are you a fan of 80′s music?

If it’s not MJ, then I ain’t listening to it.

what has been your most vivid nightmare?

One where my dad and brother died. It was after Kobe and Gigi’s death so it made sense, kinda.

what has been your most vivid dream?

Me getting rawed in my school library. Lowkey mad it wasn’t real.

have you ever had your first kiss?

No 😭 I’m pathetic, I know.

what has been your most intimate moment?

N/A

do you usually start conversations?

Only if I have to.

are you superstitious?

I don’t believe in superstitions but I don’t take chances with them either. It’s weird.

what do you believe in most, ghosts or aliens?

Ghosts.

what song(s) do you hate?

I fucking hate “I’m a gummy bear” song and that’s my brother’s fault

turn ons?

I have a lot. A nice smile, funny, caring, big dick, sweet, tall, smelling good, good hygiene etc.

turn offs?

The exact opposite of what I listed. To add onto that, is being mean/rude for no reason.

are you comfortable with talking about your flaws?

A little bit.

what are your otp’s?

Delena, Brucas, Sasusaku, Izuocha, etc.

do you have any bizarre experiences?

Not that I can think of.

do you have a night/morning routine?

Just a skin routine

do you have a bittersweet memory?

Any memories with people that are not in my life anymore. We had some good times but I don’t miss them. Bittersweet af.

are there any friends that you miss?

Nope. Stay gone, bitch.

do you have an enemy?

No.

are you a night owl or an early bird?

Night owl but I’m a early bird when I need to be.

what is your dream job?

Being my own boss.

if you had to pick a fictional universe to live in forever, which one would you pick and why?

My Hero Academia because chances are I’ll have a quirk which is dope.

do you know any form of self-defence?

Kinda

favourite planet?

Uranus because I’m childish af 😂😂😂

do you consider yourself to be more masculine, feminine or a mixture?

A mixture

do you rely on others or do others rely on you?

Rely on me. I hate relying on others.

what do you think happens once someone dies?

Heaven or Hell.

are you a leader?

Ehhh

what question do you hate answering?

“Is that your real hair?”

do you believe in guardian angels?

Ehhh maybe. Idk

can you rap?

Songs that were already made? Sure

how do you stay warm?

A blanket

do you want to be in a relationship?

Yes sir.

how was your day?

Aight.

are there any fictional universes you would not want to be in?

Family Guy.

what fictional character do you relate to the most?

Squidward

who hurt you last?

My bitchass cousin. Fuck that bitch and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

Yay!!! I did it lol

[missjackil]

My 15x06 Opinion

Golden Time

This was a really good episode despite my disapproval of the end. I can be objective :) 

We have a very fun start with Dean moping adorably around in his hotdog PJs binging on cereal and Scooby-doo.  And be still my beating heart, Sam going for a run! There’s nothing unsexy about sweaty, messy-haired, athletic Sam in sweats!! But oh wait... ghost Eileen appears.  She’s stuck as a ghost, having escaped Hell when the gates opened. Strangely enough, the Winchesters are stuck on the word of a demon that people cant enter Heaven if they have ever been to Hell. I gotta say, I'm kinda disappointed that the boys just take his word for it, is that just me?

Meanwhile, we have Cass on his own. On a mission to find a missing kid. I have to give it to Cass, he was pretty interesting this week, and I loved his look of complete done-ness when Dean was barking at him on the phone. I also gotta love Dean for his “Don’t you dare ignore my brother” attitude! 

In other news, another local witch tried to get into Rowena’s stash and got dead in the process. Sam is going to Rowena’s apartment to find a spell and a crystal to put Eileen in to keep her fro going back to Hell or going insane as a ghost. When he gets there, he finds the body, the apt in disarray and nothing of good witchy value in the immediate area. Eileen finds a secret room where all Rowena’s goodies are and Sam goes in. This was a nice moment Sam had of remembering her.  Might I say, he took her death much harder than he’s taken others deaths aside from Dad’s and Dean’s many. I dont even think he looked this shaken by his Mom’s death, but much has to do with him killing her Im sure. 

Upon leaving, Sa buckles in pain, spitting blood, of course he has been hexed. Now I think it’s so cute that even though he knows very little sign language, he knows how to sign “My brother” to tell Eileen to go get him.  Sam, of course, is thusly abducted.

After Sam’s obligatory “tied up and mildly tortured” scene, he takes a young witch with him to get a resurrection spell from Row’s apt. The witch states her now-dead sister made her life hell. Sam trie to relate by saying Dean put Super Glue in his toothpaste when he was 10, which was instantly trumped by real horrors the young witch endured. Thats right Sam, Dean isnt such a bad brother...but you know that ;)

Sam tries to convince the girl to run start a new life, be happy, and she accuses him of lying and a big fight scene starts.  Dean arrives in time to save Sam, Eileen saves Dean, then Sam saves Eileen. TADAAAH!!

Now we have the scene that screams “Sam and Eileen are gonna bang!” to me. They couldnt leave Eileen as their host friend that is the inspiration they need to try to fix Heaven or make a new one or whatever, no, lets bring her back to life because I guess we need to get Sam laid before whatever fate befalls him at the end of the series, go out with a BANG as they say 😣

We have a spell to bring Eileen back, because obviously, bringing people back to life has always worked out so well for the Winchesters, they should definitely do it again!!! And this spell requires Sam to draw a nice deep soaking bath, in a modern tub that the boys must have installed themselves because it doesnt fit the MOL time period motif they've always had,  sprinkle in some herbs (probably rose petals too why tf not)  speak some extra sexy Latin, and have Sam modestly turn around because he’s a gentleman, and found the only resurrection spell to date that brings ‘em back naked. Candlelight, soft music, Sam’s ample bosom heaving breathlessly in anticipation for the spell to work. Of course it does, theres a twinkle in Sam’s eyes as he hears the water splash... “Sam?”  He hears and takes as the OK to turn around. It worked!! His 4 yr crush-when-convenient is back to life because again, this has always worked out so good. 

She holds out her hand for Sam to take it... this is so y’all know she initiated the sex they have/had later that we’ll either get to see the cuddle in bed, or get a verbal acknowledgment of. I may literally puke if we actually get a sex scene.  Sorry, it was fine back when the bros barely liked each other, but theyve been more or less married for years now and it just seems wrong. Oh dont worry, if Sam gets laid, Dean will too. Though Sam did put Eileen to bed without sex because she needs sleep, we need to know this because it wont seem as creepy if we know he at least let some time pass and didnt take advantage of possible vulnerability. 

I hope I can come back next episode or so and be very glad I was wrong, because I know a lot of you dont think they’ll bang, but I say theres no reason whatsoever for a scene like that other than to prep us for romance and not leave any of you saying “Wait! Where did that come from?? They only think of each other as friends!” 

I hope its short lived, not that I want Eileen to die... again... but lets just have her go off hunting on her own because if she is Sam’s end game (which I dont think she is) I will unwatch the entire series and never let it on my screen again 😑

Honorable mention to Cass, congrats on solving your first case by yourself and I actually really dug you losing your shit on the Djinn!! 

So aside from my personal disapproval, on a scale of Bloodlines to Lebanon Ill say this was another very good one. Ill give it a 7, deducting a full point for giving me agita. 

[fubukimori]

Lift-of-the-ground hug

Basicly it was going to be not longer than one page silly attempt at writing in English, but I’ve got carried away a bit ^^” This is dedicated to @crazy-bone-lady​ (Nevia belongs to her), bc she is a nice person dragged me into a bunch of cool people in my current fundom, where I was introduced to so many cool characters i would never know by myself. I really aprechciate this ^^ Since Nevia is my favorite one, I decided to write something she inqluded. I hope i didn’t mischaracter her ^^” (im also willing to write something like this with ataric but not really sure if i capable of that)

Also a reminder that I’m not an English-speaking person, so my apologies to you if you find this writing full of mistakes of different kinds (still need to figure out how to put direct speech into shape properly). I warned ya ;3

It was awfully early in the morning. Barely a few people were slumberly heading to their work places to get prepared for the daily Tower routine. Guardians are rarely wandering here that early, even commander Zavala wasn’t  here yet. Nevertheless Fubuki was already on her feet, cheerful and vivacious after a good “two hours nap” which started yesterday noon and ended just an hour ago. Deserted Tower seemed so nice and unnatural so she was just strolling around, humming random melodies and enjoying the absence of croudy guardians while looking for the perfect place to sit and crochet the shawl she’d promised to Ikora.

Passing by the lord Shaxx’s survey point and obviously finding him here, already boisterous and loud, Fubuki noticed someone on the place commander Zavala usually stood. The Warlock’s poor eyesight didn’t allow her to recognize who was that person, so she called her Ghost out to help. “Ori, who is that over there?” she asked, pointlessly squinting at the stranger. Should’ve taken her glasses. “Oh, that is Nevia. That huntress from the Crucible”.

Usually lord Shaxx doesn’t match kinderguardians like Fubuki with fabled veterans of the Crucible, but some time ago he decided to give everyone a challenge, mixing up together guardians completely randomly. Most of the youngsters immediately started complaining about unfair difficulty since they were supposed to face and fight guardians way more skilled than themselves. Fubuki on a counterverse liked the idea of the challenge, but after some matches, where opponents were literally wiping floor with her, she almost gave up and decided to avoid the Crucible this week. “Just another one and I’m done with this humiliation” she thought, heading to the Nessus special fighting arena. This time was just like the others - she died and died and died… Almost crushed enough to explode and rage quit the match, Fubuki saw an opponent Titan, already speeded up enough to smash fragile warlock against the wall with their shield bash, but suddenly she felt a firm grab at her wrist and then was pulled behind the pillar next to her. Titan’s shield bash slammed loudly against the wall. Fubuki got panicked and threw her pulse grenadine towards the Titan’s direction. Confused Defender shrinked back, but wasn’t fast enough. In a split second Fubuki saw a cloak in front of her and then a flashy sword swing. The Titan clutched his chest plate with a shaky hand then dropped dead on the ground.

“Hey!” the cloak person turned back to an unusually speechless Warlock, brushing blood off their Quickfang. “Watch out where you are daydreaming, nerd!” Huntress barked and headed forward, searching for the other enemies. Fubuki followed her since she had always been told to stick with teammates in the Crucible, especially if they were actually capable of killing others.

Huntress seemed completely unbothered by a “never asked to be” companion, she was concentrated on winning this particular match. When she went through a giant stone arch in the middle of the arena, there was an unexpected foe. Another Hunter was hiding behind, squatting with Tractor cannon. Fubuki was shadowing her, so she met with this enemy Hunter face to face, while he was attempting to finish powerless opponent. Before he managed to shoot down Fubuki in a close range, she slapped him with an Arc charge, hurting him just enough to be finished with a single shoot in the head from the Huntress’ hand cannon. A perfect team work, yet absolutely spontaneous. Fubuki placed a healing rift, recovering the Huntress from that dirty trick. “Thanks” the only thing the Huntress said, reloading her magazine. Fubuki just nodded silently.

“I see you’ve got a little friend, Nevia, hahaha! Mind you, Fubuki, Nevia is a great warrior, but a terrible teacher!” lord Shaxx had been satisfied seeing twenty kills in a row by one of his favorite Crucible fighters and was praising their duo for the last five minutes. Nevia was doing most of the work, when Fubuki was putting all the effort to support her, providing healing, Arc souls and grenades, hitting the right spot barely half of all the times. When the match was over and everyone headed to collect rewards, Fubuki finally got a chance to have a good look at her savior. She was surprisingly very short woman, an Awoken just like Fubuki herself, with a severe gaze and short shaved head. “H-hey!” Fubuki exclaimed with her voice shaking of excitement, though the frown look she gained from the Huntress made her feel chill crawling on her back. Nevia looked up and down at the Warlock and then raised her brow. “Oh, it’s you”. The Huntress had probably recognized messy Crucible Warlock’s armor colored in Metroshift which Fubuki had been wearing during the match, her gaze softened a bit. It immediately brought a delighted expression back on the Warlock’s face. “Yes, it is me, your faithful support from the last match, hahaha!” she responded with a rather high-pitched voice. That’s what she does when she is excited or nervous. “I just hope I was not bothering you”

“Nah, you did fine”

“Hope so. By the way, your name is Nevia, right? I am Fubuki, it was a pleasure to fight alongside with such skilled guardian!”

“Hah, thanks”

Seeing the Huntress wasn’t really in the mood for a chatter, the Warlock got a move on with finishing this little pep talk. “Well, we are doubtedly matching in the next one, so, um… Good luck. May the Traveler's Light shine upon thee” she made a profound bow, spreading her hands in a proper Warlock’s sign of gratitude.

“The same goes for you” Nevia raised her hand, a shadow of a smile on her face. ”See you around”

From now on, Fubuki was meeting Nevia in the Tower sometimes. Every time the Awoken met each other, Fubuki waved her hand in a greeting, Nevia responded with a simple nod. Sometimes they shared a word or two. Amicable Warlock would love to make friends with this gloomy Huntress, but she seemed not really into making friends with anyone, so Fubuki was trying hard at least don’t be obtrusive. However, being in such a good mood, she decided to make a move. Fubuki jumped in the air and glided toward Nevia. Noiselessly landed behind the short Huntress, way taller Warlock grabbed her and then lifted of the ground in a snapshot. “Heya, Nevia!” she cheery exclaimed, holding tiny Huntress on her arms. “Glad to find you here tod…”

In the next few minutes Fubuki learned several lessons. First, never ever mess with Hunters before they are finished with their morning coffee. Second, if you’d spooked them or spilled their coffee, no matter how high you can jump or how many times you cried “I’m sorry!”, you’ll get stabbed. If you’d done both, it is for sure.

Fubuki was always the one learning in a hard way.

When Ori revived her, lord Shaxx, who had seen all the scene, was still laughing, definitely already bursting in tears, if only there was no helmet on his head. Nevia was already missing. “That...wasn’t such a good idea” Ori concluded. Fubuki didn’t say a word to him, only cursed to herself in several languages.

At the end of the day Fubuki was tired and really unhappy. She still felt guilty for the morning incident, and also very stupid. “You must always think first, you stupido. Now she is probably thinking I am mental or something” she rumbled to herself, heading to the vault. “Well, guess I deserved it anyway”

“Hey”

Fubuki didn’t hear someone approaching, so a sudden voice from behind made her flinch. It was Nevia staying behind with her her arms crossed on her chest. “Oh, em… Hi” Fubuki didn’t expect the Huntress to get close to her after she pissed her off. There was an awkward silence for a moment. “That… wasn’t very wise of you. You have to make sure this won’t happen again” she said, shifting from one feet to another. “I know, I am really sorry!” Fubuki exclaimed in response. “I… I just get really childish sometimes, I really do sorry for that”

“Yeah, and I could have played it cooler” Nevia said, lifting her gaze up to the Warlock. “Dammit, why are you such a pole?”

“I… I do not know. I was like this from, well, from the very beginning” the Warlock was a little frustrated, but it seemed the Huntress wasn’t pissed off anymore. And she kinda… made an apology too?

“So, no hard feelings, right?” Nevia asked, her face was less frown than usual. “Absolutely!” Fubuki responded with a wide smile on her face. The Huntress hold out her hand, the Warlock immediately shook it. “Glad we are cool now” she said, squeezing Huntress’ smaller palm. “If you ever need help with, well, some abstruse thing or maybe will need a medical advice, you can always call me for it”

“Sure, thanks. We should go outside the Walls someday” Nevia responded with a smug smirk. “Someone is gonna teach you not daydreaming right in the middle of the battlefield”. Fubuki laughed awkwardly. The Awoken took their leave of and both went where they were planning to. The weight of the guilt finally loosed from Fubuki’s shoulders. She hates being disturbing for anyone and the fact that Nevia had let the morning incident go made her finally feel good again.

“I hope you are not thinking you are already friends, right?” Ori hovered next to her, preaching as usual. 

“We might become ones some day. She is actually nicer than she tries to look like”

“I doubt that”

“You doubt anything, little one”

[trash-the-tozier]

Lipstick (4/6)

Title: Lipstick

Length ~29.1k (6.5k for this part)

Summary: Richie and Eddie’s eyes meet across the street. And sure, it might have been romantic, if Eddie didn’t happen to be in a skirt with a wig and full face of makeup at the time, and Richie hadn’t jogged over to ask him to “please, could you pretend to be my girlfriend so my parents don’t think I’m gay?” Eddie knows that getting involved with a straight boy is a dumb thing to do, but on the other hand Richie is very, very cute, and he doesn’t really have anything else going on today. So he agrees.

Warnings: explicit language, kissing, boys wearing makeup and skirts and dresses (is that even a warning?), slight homophobia, one big ol sexual identity crisis

Pairings: Richie/Eddie and background Bill/Stan

A/N: I wasn’t sure if I should/how to put this in the warnings or not so I’ll put it here: Eddie’s background/relationship with his mother is relatively close to canon, and touched on/talked about in this chapter. The homophobia warning also particularly applies here. also posted to my ao3 here Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 taglist: @belbys,  @reddiesteddiespaghetti, @alrightbluer, @trippy-alexissss, @strange-reddie-loser, @reddiemybabes, @justanothetfangirl, @lullaby-raven​, @geckolover001​, @wintersember​,  @wyattsnoodlehairr, @trashmouths-love-to-cuddle (hmu if you’d like to be added!)

After pondering his newfound Eddie Kaspbrak predicament for a solid thirty minutes and getting absolutely nowhere in terms of answers to his confusions and questions, Richie figured he would never be able to solve the conundrum. So he called the most reasonable person he knew.

“Hey Richie. What's up?”

“Hey Mike.” Just hearing Mike's voice gave Richie the feeling that everything would work out. They would discover why Richie nearly bit his lip in half watching Eddie do something as simple as drink water, and maybe solve world peace along the way. Mike was amazing. “I've got a problem, can you help me out?”

Richie expected a happy, reassuring response. Instead, Mike was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, he sounded partly amused and slightly exasperated.

“You too?” He asked.

“What do you mean, me too?”

“Bill did this exact same thing to me yesterday.” Mike said, sounding a little more on the amused side now. “Pray tell, is this a relationship problem?”

“I, no, well…” It was a bit embarrassing, hearing it put that way. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Dude, it's a yes or no question. What did you even just say?”

“It's complicated! That's why I called you.”

“Alright Rich. Elaborate.”

Richie did, telling the tale of Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak from the moment Mike had last seen him. When he was done, there was a long moment of silence from Mike.

“Mikey? You didn't fall asleep on me, did you?”

“...no.” Mike finally said. “Thinking. So… You like him then?”

“I… Wait, what? How did you get to that conclusion?”

“...seriously?”

“Mike, we’ve been over this; I’m a dumbass, remember?”

Mike laughed a little. “He makes you nervous, you like it when you make him laugh, you love spending time with him, and all the staring… Sounds like a crush to me.”

“Are you sure you’re not reading too much into this?”

That earned Richie a second contemplative silence.

“Well, maybe. Maybe you have a crush on the girl side of him, whatever that’s about? We kind of already had this conversation, and I know things have changed since then, but--”

“I don't really see him as a girl anymore, though.” Richie interrupted. “Even when he has a skirt on.”

“So you do like him.”

“...I don’t know.”

“Have you ever thought about kissing him?”

“I…” He was now. God, he was thinking about it now, about how pink Eddie’s lips were and how soft they always looked. He had the overwhelming urge to splash his face with cold water, reminding himself that he was on the phone, and couldn’t do that. “Fuck, Mike. I mean, I’ve kissed him on the cheek--and he’s kissed me on the cheek--but that’s…”

“That’s what?”

“I don’t know!” Richie’s stomach twisted up, a feeling in his chest making him want to squirm. “I…”

“What’s the hang up about?” Mike asked. “There’s something you don’t want to tell me. What is it?”

“I just… I can’t like Eddie--you know like like him--because… Because it’s…”

“Spit it out, Richie.”

“He's a guy!” Richie finally exclaimed. “And I'm not--I thought--I’ve just never--and I’m… I don't know.” Richie swallowed, his throat now very dry, all of his words crashing together. It had been easy with Eddie there, smiling at him and calling him an idiot, but now it was just him and his thoughts. Thinking was notorious for messing him up, and now he could feel it happening in real time. What was he? Nervous, definitely. Scared. He was a college student, he wasn't a kid anymore; shouldn't he have this figured out by now? “I don't know.”

“Okay.” Mike’s voice was slow and quiet, a polar opposite of Richie’s own. “You don’t have to know everything right now. But let’s focus on what we do know, alright?”

Richie noticed in Mike’s question that his problem had turned into “we”; had turned into their problem.

“Okay. Like what?”

“We think he’s cute, right?”

“I… Yeah. Very. Always has been.”

“Are you worried that maybe you're not really into him? That you just kinda think he's nice to look at, but there's nothing sexual there?”

“Fuck, maybe?” Richie hadn’t even considered that. When he replayed the question in his mind though, he shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I wanted to lick his neck today, and I know that’s not very platonic.”

“Oh--wait, you what?!”

Richie winced. “Did I not mention that? He was all sweaty, and I was kinda… Staring.”

A long moment of silence. Mike sighed.

“Richie, I think you like him. Like… For real.”

“...yeah.” Richie said, after rolling the sentence over in his head. The prospect still made him nervous, but it sounded right. It felt right. “I think so too.”

“Alright. Listen, Richie. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Bill, and it's cheesy and stupid and you're going to take it to heart. Are you listening?”

“You've got me a little spooked here, Mikey.”

“Good. People are just people, regardless of how they look, or act, or make you feel. Eddie might be a guy, but if he makes you happy, then that’s that. I think you should go for it. Finding happiness is what life is all about, so say something to him, especially if you think you make him happy too. Things might just work out.”

“You're right, dude. That is cheesy.”

“It's true.” Mike pointed out, and Richie couldn’t argue with him. “Don’t even think too hard about labels, if you don’t want to. That can mess things up. You can just like him, without any of the rest of that stuff.”

“I…” Richie considered that for a moment. Thinking about it, thinking about himself as ‘gay’ made something akin to discomfort race through his stomach, but when he applied the term ‘boyfriend’ to Eddie, he found he rather liked that. So he thought about Eddie, just Eddie, and how Eddie made him feel. “...okay. I think I can do that.”

“Go get ‘em, tiger.” There was a grin in Mike’s voice. “And don't lick him without asking.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

They exchanged goodbyes and Mike hung up, Richie left in silence. He stopped his pacing and fell onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Eddie. He liked Eddie. He had a big gay crush on Eddie Kaspbrak. He tried to picture it, the image coming to him startlingly easily; himself and Eddie, simply out and about, walking down the street holding hands. Something in his stomach swooped, the sensation not entirely unpleasant. Maybe they could get milkshakes, drive somewhere quiet, and lay out on the hood of his car, looking at the stars or something. Maybe kissing a little.

Okay, definitely kissing. And more than a little.

Richie’s cell phone buzzed against his chest, bringing him from his daydreaming. It was a text from Eddie, and he quickly opened it.

From: Eds Spagheds Okay, talked to your mom. I’ve got the game plan for tomorrow.

Richie’s thumb hovered over his screen, contemplating a response. Then he decided he would much rather talk to Eddie, sending him a request for a video call.

As soon as he saw himself in his phone screen, waiting for Eddie to pick up, he let out a loud curse. He looked horrible, unshowered and messy. He dragged his hand through his hair, struggling into a sitting position, but before he could do anything more, Eddie picked up.

Eddie’s hair was wet, his face bare, his naked body from the middle of his torso up filling Richie’s phone screen. Richie bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. They stared at each other for a few moments before a blush flooded Eddie’s face, and Richie’s cheeks burned.

“I just got out of the shower!” Eddie protested, as though that wasn't obvious. He angled the camera up, so nothing but his face was visible. “Why the hell are you calling me?”

“How was I supposed to know?” Richie asked back, feeling as flustered and indignant as Eddie sounded. “Why did you answer if you were naked?”

“I don’t know! Shut up.” Eddie frowned at him, his face still red. “...I'm not completely naked.”

“Not completely. Right.” Great. Richie gathered his wits about him, trying to salvage the situation. “Gonna put on a show for me, Eds?”

Eddie’s face burned even darker. “Don’t fucking call me that.” He said vehemently. “Do you want the details or not?”

“Okay, sure.”

Eddie’s arm relaxed slightly, more of his shoulders becoming visible, Richie’s eyes catching on the muscle definition in them. Richie swallowed, his mouth incredibly dry, as Eddie grabbed a towel from somewhere offscreen and rubbed it against the side of his head.

“Your parents want us to be there by five, so dinner can start. I always forget that old people eat dinner in the middle of the day. They want us to bring--”

“I’m sorry.” Richie interrupted. “I’m so distracted, I have to ask--are you wearing pants?”

“Yes!” Eddie exclaimed, the blush back on his face.

“Are you sure?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and the next thing Richie knew the camera was being flipped, and he was met with the sight of Eddie in his bathroom, standing in front of the mirror. He did have pants on, Richie recognizing the rainbow printed pajama pants from the morning he'd picked Eddie up for his mom's birthday party. But the pajama pants were the only thing he was wearing, and they were low, showing off his hip bones and as much of his lean chest and stomach as possible. Richie wolf-whistled; Eddie told him to fuck off.

“Your parents want us to bring a fruit salad.” Eddie walked to his bedroom, flipping his camera as he went, and Richie got a nice close up of Eddie's navel before he brought the camera back up to his face.

“I can do that.” Richie said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No problem. What time should I pick you up?”

Eddie thought for a moment. “Four would be fine.” He said.

“Sounds good. See you then.”

Eddie looked to be moving to end the call, Richie stopping him.

“Hold on. Pose for me, Eds.”

“...excuse me?”

“I want to take a screenshot!”

“Why?”

“Because I want to. You know, commemorating the occasion.”

Eddie gave him a thoroughly unamused look. “What occasion? This is stupid.”

“C’mon, Spaghetti. For me?”

His face unchanging, Eddie simply held up his middle finger in Richie's direction. Laughing, Richie took the screenshot, the shutter sound loud.

“Anything else you want from me?”

“Oh, everything, dah-ling.”

“Shut up.” Eddie lips quirked into an almost-smile at the terrible French accent Richie put on. “Goodnight, Richie.”

“Night!”

Richie sat there for a few moments, feeling a stupid smile on his face. He went to the camera roll on his phone to look at the screenshot he took. Eddie looked less deadpan than he had seemed in the moment, his eyes a bit softer, the corners of his lips turned upwards. Richie's eyes then caught on the tiny image of himself in the corner, zooming in with slight incredulity. He was wearing the dumbest, most lovestruck grin he had ever seen.

“Richie, I think you like him. Like… For real.”

Richie flopped onto his back again, still smiling to himself. As far as sexual identity crises went, he figured he was handling this pretty well.

When Richie picked Eddie up the next day, he looked adorable. His black overall skirt matched the large black bow in his hair, the accessory sitting at the top of a high ponytail. His pastel purple shirt was a long sleeved turtleneck, and while Richie didn't usually like turtlenecks, it looked good on him. He slid into the passenger seat of Richie's car, pushing his bangs from his eyes.

“You look cute.” Richie told him, and Eddie spared him a quick look as he buckled his seatbelt. The makeup on his face was rather simple and subtle.

“Thanks. This is one of my least favorite outfits, though.”

“Why?”

“I had to shave my legs for this.”

Sure enough, the skirt cut off just above the knee, Eddie's legs bare and smooth. Richie resisted the urge to touch them, remembering all at once that he liked Eddie, and fuck, he liked Eddie, and now he was nervous. He put the car into drive, swallowing.

“Well, I think you look nice.”

Richie simply saw Eddie nod out of the corner of his eye. They were quiet for a little while but Richie wanted to talk, finally deciding to ask a stupid question.

“What does wearing a skirt feel like?”

That made Eddie smile. “How about you try one on later tonight? I have a couple you could choose from.”

“No thank you. I'm not that curious.”

“Come on, it would totally complete the look.”

“You only said makeup.” Richie pointed out. “All I'm contractually obligated to put up with is makeup.”

“Fine.” Eddie said, rolling his eyes and laughing. “If your fragile masculinity can't take it, I understand.”

“Hey now. I could argue right back at you that you didn’t need to shave your legs at all. It’s 2018; girls can do whatever they want with their body hair.”

Eddie gave him a look for a couple of moments, raising his eyebrows. He seemed to recognize that Richie was saying his own words back at him, words he’d used when they first met, and after a second or so he shrugged.

“Okay, sure, but I’m meeting your grandmother.” He said, and Richie couldn’t help but feel he had a point. His grandmother definitely wouldn’t take well to a girl with leg hair, and a good first impression would be the most painless way to survive the evening.

“I need to warn you about my grandmother.” He said, Eddie turning to him in concern. “She’s my dad’s mom, and the only grandparent of mine that’s still alive. She got some kinda something--disease, I dunno--a couple years back, and my grandfather talked about he was excited to outlive her. But he didn’t, and now I think she’s alive purely out of spite.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. She's one of those really conservative oldies.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like...” Richie sighed, trying to find a way to phrase it that didn’t sound too bad. “She kinda doesn’t trust Mexican people, probably supported Prop 8, you know. That sort of stuff.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Richie spared a glance over; Eddie was frowning. “She’s not my favorite person. She and Beverly got into a bit of a screaming match a couple years ago, and Bev isn’t allowed at family functions anymore. But don’t worry; we’ll get out of there as soon as we can, alright?”

“I’ll be okay.” Eddie said quickly. “Besides, if she gets a too bigoted for me I’ll just rip my wig off or something and run away.”

Richie had to laugh at that mental image. “That might finish her off. You’d give her a heart attack.”

“You think?” Eddie laughed too. “I was worried about your parents, when I first met them; that was my getaway plan.”

“Seriously? Now I kinda wish you’d done that, just so I could see it.”

“It might still happen.”

His parents and grandmother were all sitting in the living room when they arrived. Richie proudly held out the bowl of fruit salad he'd picked up to his father, who brought it into the kitchen while his mom got up and hugged the both of them. She hugged Eddie first, despite Richie being closer to her, Eddie exchanging a look with him over his mother's shoulder.

“Hey, Grandma.” Richie said, once the hugs were over. She was still sitting on the couch. “How are you?”

“Still alive, which is more than Clyde can say.” She responded. “Come give your grandmother a hug.”

Richie did, Eddie trailing awkwardly behind him.

“And who is this?” She asked, gesturing to Eddie when the hug was finished, though Richie could tell by her voice that she was well aware it was his supposed girlfriend. Richie put his hand on Eddie's shoulder.

“Grandma, meet Ed--”

“Emma.” Eddie interrupted quickly, stepping on Richie's foot to cut him off, Richie realizing he'd very nearly said the wrong name. “Emma Kaspbrak. It's wonderful to meet you.”

Grandma gave her a critical once over. “You have a deep voice, for a girl.” She remarked.

“Grandma, that's--”

“I've heard that before.” Eddie responded easily, interrupting Richie again. “It's my voice, though.”

“I like your hair.” Grandma continued. “It's very long.”

“Thank you. I've had short hair too, but I think longer hair suits this look better.”

If Richie didn't find this whole situation so nerve-wracking, he would have been amused by how much Eddie could say without actually lying.

“Well, good thing it's long, or we'd all think you were a lesbian!” The old lady laughed, Richie hearing his father give a hearty chuckle as he walked back in from the kitchen. Eddie didn't even pretend to smile. He opened his mouth as though to say something before seemingly thinking better of it, wetting his lips instead with his tongue and closing them.

“But we all know you're not a dyke, because you're dating this boy here!” Grandma Tozier continued, Richie quite surprised when his grandmother hit his stomach in what might have been a love tap. It felt a little too hard, but maybe that was just her bony knuckles. “I mean, he isn't exactly a hunky dreamboat, but he's man enough, I suppose.”

“You got me there. I don't like girls.” Eddie responded, his voice so dry that Richie properly choked on his tongue. He had to cough a couple of times and Eddie grabbed his arm quickly, guiding him into the kitchen under the guise of getting him some water.

“Okay.” Was all he said, when they found themselves alone. “She's… I get it now.”

“Yeah.” Richie grabbed himself and Eddie both glasses, filling one with water and handing it over to Eddie before getting one for himself. “She's being pretty nice right now, too. You sure this is going to be okay?”

“Yeah. It'll be fine.” Eddie took a drink, something about his expression having Richie doubting the sincerity of his words. But then his parents ushered them into the dining room, and dinner began.

It was pretty standard, as far as spending time with Grandma usually went. She complained about her Jewish neighbors and asked about some extended family members, which led to talk about the birthday party she had missed last week. Richie was hoping he had dodged a bullet, that she wouldn't be asking any of the standard questions she always pestered him with, about his grades or his eating habits or his love life. The meal was all but finished when she turned her eyes on him, magnified a hundred times behind her glasses.

“I am so glad you found this lovely girl.” She said, and he gave her a smile.

“Me too, Grandma.”

“I was so worried.” She went on. “You never had a girlfriend, never had a girlfriend… I was worried you turned out to be a fruitcake. I kept telling Wentworth--get that boy on a sports team! That'll fix him! But I guess all that fretting was for nothing.”

“Fix me?” Richie echoed slowly. Was he broken? Something sick was rising in his chest. “And what would you have to say if I were gay, Grandma?”

“Richie!” His mother exclaimed, as though he'd just used an expletive in church. Richie didn't look at her, holding the old woman’s eye. She looked back almost defiantly.

“It isn't an issue, is it?”

“What if it was?”

“Richie.” Eddie's voice this time, closing a warm hand around the fist he hadn't realized he was clenching. He glanced over, and Eddie gave the smallest shake of his head.

“Yes Richard, I suggest you listen to your girlfriend.” His father looked a mixture of concerned and angry, but hell, Richie was angry too.

“Why don't you and Emma cut up the lemon cake in the kitchen?” His mother asked, her voice forcefully pleasant. “It's about time for dessert.”

Eddie nodded quickly, pulling Richie to his feet and out of the dining room.

“It's okay.” He said quickly, as soon as they were out of earshot. “You don't need to… To defend me, or whatever, especially not at family dinner. It's fine.”

“It's not fine.”

“Richie, your grandmother isn't punching me in the face, so she's nothing compared to all of the bullies I had in high school. I'm fine.” Eddie was still holding onto his hand, Richie easing his fingers from the fist and entwining them with Eddie's instead. In truth, he hadn't been trying to defend Eddie, like Eddie thought he was. His grandmother's bigotry was pouring salt into the open wound that was his newfound confusion and fear. But he needed to reign himself in; he knew that. “I really appreciate it and everything, I do, but let's just eat some cake so we can get out of here.”

“Eddie, I'm--”

“We'll leave, and I'll put some makeup on your face. It'll be fun. For me, at least.”

Eddie was smiling at him. Richie felt the angry knot in his chest tighten just a bit more before loosening completely. God, Eddie made him happy. It was stupid, Richie thought, how quickly and easily this had happened.

“Yeah, okay.”

They were serving up cake slices when his grandmother spoke up again.

“Your fingernails look a bit brittle.” She said to Eddie, slightly waspishly, obviously still miffed from the near-confrontation.

“Do they?” Eddie asked, his voice pleasant.

“You know what causes that? Iron deficiency. Do you take any vitamins?”

“No.” Eddie was suddenly still. “I don’t take anything.”

“Well, you should. They’ll help you, sweetie. And straighten your back; if you don’t keep up good posture you’ll be a hunchback when you’re older.”

“You’re fine.” Richie told him quickly, hating the odd, far away, somehow scared look that was suddenly on Eddie’s face. “Your fingernails and posture are both fine.”

Grandma sent him a wry look.

“I’m just trying to help. You understand that I’m just trying to help you, don’t you sweetie?”

Eddie didn’t respond for a full five seconds. When he finally moved, he put the rest of the plates down on the table rather clumsily, almost as though he’d dropped them, excusing himself to the bathroom. Richie frowned, shrugging at the questioning looks from his parents, wondering if he should go after him. A couple minutes later, his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket, surprised to see a text from Eddie.

From: Eds Spagheds I need to go home.

Richie decided not to waste time asking more questions. He got to his feet, spreading his arms wide to the table to garner everyone’s attention.

“Not that this hasn’t been lovely, but Emma and I need to go now. The, uh… The fish isn’t agreeing with her.” Richie realized a second after he’d spoken that they’d had chicken for dinner, but didn’t allow time for a comment on his mistake, going into the depths of the house to find Eddie. He knocked on the closed bathroom door.

“Hey, it’s me. Let’s go.”

Eddie looked okay, his makeup immaculate, but Richie noticed on closer inspection that his eyes seemed slightly red. He almost reached for Eddie’s hand, but saw that Eddie had his hands clasped tightly together and decided against it. He called a farewell to his parents, not speaking again until they were well down the road.

“You know, your nails really do look fine.”

Eddie swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Your posture is fine too.”

“Yeah.”

“...are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

They hit a red light. Richie looked over. Eddie’s eyes were downcast.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong, or do you just want me to shut up?” He decided to ask. Eddie’s eyes fell closed.

“Um… Just shut up, for a little while.”

Nodding, Richie simply turned on the radio, fixing his eyes on the road ahead.

It wasn’t until Eddie was in his room that he felt he could breathe again. He was surprised that Richie had made it all the way home silently, but he was grateful; he’d needed to get calm, to compartmentalize and repress and just fucking push everything down until it was time for Richie to leave, and he could freak out all alone. But he realized that he still had Richie’s makeup to do, and hoped that it would help; makeup was what usually helped him when he had moments like this.

Richie was still quiet, even when he got up on Eddie’s bed, sitting cross-legged and leaning forwards obediently, closing his eyes and offering his face in Eddie’s direction.

“You, um…” Eddie took Richie’s glasses off his face again, taking him in for a moment. Richie cracked one eye open, and Eddie felt that he’d been caught staring, continuing quickly. “You can talk, or whatever. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Richie ran a hand through his hair, pulling it out of his face, and Eddie realized in that moment that Richie was sitting on his bed. They were both sitting on his bed, less than a foot away from each other. “Am I allowed to ask what Grandma said that got you all fucked up? Because I didn’t really notice anything, but…”

When Eddie didn’t answer, he seemed think that Eddie wanted the subject dropped, and didn’t press the question. Eddie suddenly felt bad; Richie had removed him from his parents’ house without question, without hesitation. And talking about it might help, right?

“I started doing makeup because of my mom.” He began, pulling out his foundation and putting some on Richie’s face.

“The monster woman?” Richie asked. Eddie wasn’t sure where the ‘monster’ had come from, but it felt pretty applicable. He smiled a little, nodding.

“Yep. She fucking stresses me out like no one else even could. So commandeering, and anxious all the time; my dad died of cancer when I was five, and after that happened--not that I can remember it very well, this is all stuff my doctor told me--she started seeing illness everywhere. She thought we were all going to get infected, die, or something… I don’t know, really.”

Richie was frowning at him, obviously confused, but didn’t interrupt.

“And… She didn’t really take care of herself well, but instead of being paranoid about her own wellbeing, she always thought something was wrong with me.”

Eddie swallowed hard. He’d never told anyone about this, he realized. He’d never even talked about it out loud.

“But was there?” Richie asked. “I mean, you said you had asthma.”

“Yeah, no. I didn’t have asthma. I had an inhaler, and a doctor’s note excusing me from P.E., but I didn’t have anything.”

“Your doctor lied to your mom?”

“Not…” Eddie noticed his hands were shaking, and put his brushes down. “Not exactly. My mom asked him to tell me that. To get me a fake inhaler, and tell me the dangers of what could happen if I exerted myself. She was trying to trap me, to keep me from doing anything that might cause me to get hurt. She was terrified of me getting sick. I fucking skinned my knee once while we were in town and she thought I was going to get AIDS.”

“I…” Richie's frown had turned from confusion to concern. “That's fucking insane.”

“I know. You can imagine her reaction when I tried coming out to her.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?” Richie’s voice was light, but the casual tone sounded slightly forced. Eddie appreciated the effort, though.

“It happened a couple years after I found out about all the fake medications and fake asthma and stuff--because I did find out, my doctor felt guilty about the whole thing and came clean, showed me that they were all placebos and everything. I yelled at her then, but I was still more afraid of her than anything else in the world. I spent a lot of that summer away from her. With Bill mostly, at his house and stuff.” Eddie had also had a giant crush on Bill at the time, but decided not to mention it. “Our relationship was already pretty fucked up, but coming out just put the nail in the coffin. She thought I was just confused. That I was sick, or maybe in a phase she was convinced I'd grow out of, even though I'd known since I was eleven. She… She said a lot of things. We had another fight, and I haven’t really seen her since I moved out to come here.”

“I’m sorry, Eds.” Richie finally said. He reached over and put his hand on Eddie's knee, large and warm and comforting, and Eddie felt a rush of affection and gratitude towards him. “That really fucking sucks.”

“Yeah.” A laugh pulled itself from his throat. “I mean, I’m better off, and I know it, but she’s still my mom, you know?”

His voice sounded a bit broken at the end of the question, Eddie remembering then why he'd never confided in anyone about this before; just saying those words made him feel needy and weak. Weak--weak, fragile, delicate--was the last thing he wanted to feel, ever. He wiped his hands on his skirt, his palms slightly sweaty, and resumed his work on Richie’s face.

“She came to visit me once. I was completely in drag, which was a lucky accident. Wig, dress, everything. And she didn’t recognize me when I opened the door. She didn’t even recognize me when I started talking to her, and… I just exploded. Makeup was always a way to get away from all the fucked up shit going on, and that time I felt like I’d just been completely transformed into another person, someone that wasn’t under her control, that had never been. And I yelled at her. I just… I ripped into her. I said some things I didn’t mean, and some things that I should have said a long time ago. But I don’t regret any of it.”

That wasn't entirely true. Eddie would wake up from bad dreams, his hands scrambling around his bedside table for his inhaler, and in that final moment before remembering that he didn't need it anymore, that he hadn't used it in seven years--in that moment, split seconds before he realized he could breathe, he regretted just about everything.

“So… So when my grandma wanted you to take vitamins…?” Richie trailed off hesitantly, meeting Eddie's eyes.

“It wasn't really that.” Eddie said, rubbing at his eyes. “I mean, it was, but… It was more her defense. My mother always said she was trying to help me. Just trying to help.” For a long time, Eddie had believed her. Richie's grandmother calling him 'sweetie’ had just cemented the situation into a panicked mess. “Sorry for… For making a scene.”

“Dude, no.” Richie drew back sharply, fixing Eddie with a stern look. “If anyone should apologize, it's me.”

“No, you already warned me about your grandmother, I just--”

“Not that.” Richie waved a hand. “I'm sorry, because if I ever meet your mother in person I might just deck her in the face.”

In spite of himself, in spite of everything, Eddie laughed. Once he started, it was hard to stop. He wasn't even really laughing about what Richie said; he simply felt better.

“You okay, Spaghetti Man?” Richie looked mostly amused, but slightly worried as well, reaching forwards and touching his cheek hesitantly. Eddie nodded a bit, trying to refocus on his makeup brushes.

“I've just never told anyone about that before.” He confessed. “My friends already knew--knew most of it, at least. I've never had to say it out loud.”

“Well, I'm glad it makes you laugh.”

It wasn't amused laughter but Eddie didn't want to mention that, instead refocusing on giving Richie his makeover. He let himself get carried away with shapes and colors, and while Richie was still twitchy, he rather liked how it all turned out. His eyelids were yellow, pink, blue, and silver, his lips a deep, purple sort of red. Richie let out a laugh as he looked at his reflection.

“I mean, it looks great.” He said. “But… What would someone wear with a face like this?”

“A face like what? Like yours?” Eddie asked back, Richie lowering the mirror at the question. “You can wear anything, honestly.”

“I'm flattered.”

“No, seriously. You'll wear anything. Your fashion sense is atrocious.”

“Hey!” Richie exclaimed. “And here I thought you were actually complimenting me.”

“Never.” Eddie felt a small smile tug at his lips, getting to his feet and walking to his closet. He knew what Richie was actually asking, and began pulling out things that matched with the makeup’s color scheme. “Probably something simple, right? Here.”

He handed over a skirt, a simple black pleated one that he knew would be a little too short on Richie's long legs. Richie stared at the piece of fabric for a moment.

“C’mon, you asked.” Eddie pointed out, and Richie sighed.

“Fine. Just for you.” He said, poking Eddie in the cheek before taking the skirt from his hands, and Eddie realized that he hadn’t really smiled the whole time he’d done Richie’s makeup, even when Richie had tried cracking a few jokes. Richie was trying to make him smile. That notion sent his heart thrumming in his chest, and he tried his best to ignore it, biting his lip as he searched through his collection of heels.

“Holy shit.” Richie said, Eddie turning around to look. The skirt was barely mid-thigh length, his pale thighs and knobby knees on display for the world to see. He had his hands resting anxiously over his crotch. “How to you not flash the entire world when you wear this?”

“Well, it’s not so short on me.” Eddie answered with a cheeky grin, Richie’s mouth falling open in protest when he realized that Eddie had put him in the tiny skirt on purpose.

“You little shit.” He said, and Eddie began to laugh. “Don’t laugh at me! I look great in this. My waist is even smaller than yours.” He hooked his thumb around the waistband of the skirt and pulled, to show off how much extra room he had. “I could be one of those super skinny runway models.”

“To be a runway model, you’ve got to be able to walk in heels.” Eddie countered, pulling out his highest pair. They really weren’t more than a couple of inches, but Richie eyed them warily. Eddie put the shoes down next to his feet.

“If I break my ankles, will you drive me to the hospital?” He asked, Eddie laughing.

“You aren’t going to break your ankles.” He insisted, and Richie pulled the shoes on. At least, he tried.

“Your feet are smaller than mine!” He said, and sure enough, the heels of his feet were sticking out, making him balance on the balls of his feet as he stood up. He tottered over to the mirror on Eddie’s bedroom door, Eddie following after him cautiously.

“Look at us!” Richie exclaimed, throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. He was even ridiculously taller in those shoes. “Two girls, out on the town.”

“Please never go in town looking like this.” Eddie said, Richie laughing. He hobbled back to the bed to sit down, looking very much like a baby giraffe.

“Stop laughing at me.” He complained.

“I wasn’t!”

“You were thinking it, though.” Richie said, turning around to point accusingly at Eddie. The change in direction caught him off balance, teetering dangerously, Eddie rushing forwards and grabbing his arms in an attempt to catch him. But Richie had already resigned himself to falling, landing on his back on Eddie’s bed, letting out a small noise of surprise when Eddie landed on top of him.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked after a moment, at a loss for anything else to say.

“I'm in bed with my girlfriend. Of course I'm okay.” Richie said, and while his tone was light, Eddie noticed that Richie's eyes were on his lips, and suddenly his mouth was too dry for a retort. He watched as Richie trailed a slow gaze over his face, their eyes finally meeting. Eddie knew he should say something, should do something to break this tension, their faces entirely too close, but he couldn't find his tongue.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” Richie said.

Oh.

Eddie knew he should say no. He should get up, and tell Richie to go home. He knew that Richie was only saying this because he still had his makeup on, only saying this because he was in a skirt and a long haired wig. Richie liked girls; he'd said so himself. He'd called Eddie his girlfriend just seconds before. Richie didn't like him, and Eddie needed to get himself out of this situation before he messed everything up.

But god, Eddie liked Richie.

“Do it, then.” He answered, and a moment later Richie pressed his lips to Eddie's, closing the space between them.

His lips were gentle, careful and unsure, Eddie finding himself the one pushing even closer, his breath stopping in his chest as Richie kissed him back, the pressure of the touch making his heart pound in his chest. Then Richie pulled back slightly and stilled, their breath mingling between them, warm and shallow. Richie's eyes were still closed when Eddie opened his.

"Richie, I..."

At his voice, Richie opened his eyes. Eddie trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say, waiting for the fear, the confusion, the disgust to twist Richie's expression. Instead, Richie stared at him with a look Eddie couldn't read, searching his face as though finding an answer instead of asking a question. Then he leaned in, and kissed Eddie again.

There was no uncertainty this time, no hesitance; Richie’s kisses were strong and steady, like he needed this, needed him, and Eddie's head was spinning. He'd never been kissed like this before. He'd never felt like this while being kissed, so wanting and weak-kneed and good. He brought his hands up to cup Richie's face, the realization making his chest ache. This had to end before it could get any further.

"You're only doing this because I'm dressed up." He murmured against Richie's lips. He needed to hear Richie agree, so he could feel the pain he needed to back away from all of this. Because he'd known this was the truth from the beginning, known that Richie was straight, but he'd had to get attached; he had to get his heart broken for it to sink in.

"Try me." Richie responded softly, reaching up as though to pull his wig off. The action made the threat of rejection so sudden and so real that Eddie stopped him, swallowing hard. He wasn't ready to be hurt this badly.

"Just... Hold on." Was all he could say to Richie's questioning glance, lowering his hand--god, Richie's lipstick was such a mess--entwining their fingers instead and giving them a squeeze. He just wanted to remain in this moment a little longer.