#Even when I’m sick I love reading what others are rambling about

[miedei]

sick day

roommate!spencer is sick (and lovely)

a/n: wrote this in a fugue state i think, just couldn't get the thought of being spencer's roommate out of my head

cw: best friends who definitely don't love each other noooo why would you say that, spencer is sick and annoying but also the best

wc: 2k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Living with Spencer Reid is usually wonderful. He’s relatively neat, but messy enough that you don’t have to walk on eggshells around him. He’s always willing to recommend you a new read, he doesn’t judge you when you spend an entire day slumped on the couch, and is always up to help you stress bake. 

It’s decidedly wonderful, until it’s not. A week into your living together, you’d realised what a workaholic he was. After the first time you’d caught him asleep on top of paperwork in the living room, you’d understood how much of a pain Spencer Reid really can be. 

Unfortunately, today is one of those days. Spencer returned from a case last night, and the moment you’d seen the slump in his shoulders, you knew you were going to have to work from home today. 

“You really don’t have to stay home. I don’t even have to stay home! I’m seriously not sick, I swear!” His voice is low, as if attempting to mask the rasp in it. It doesn’t work.

His rambling doesn’t cease, not the entire time you steer him away from the front door and into the living room. 

“Yeah? Spence, do you even remember the last time you got sick? I came home to find you lying on the dining table! I’m not going to leave and come back to you trying to climb out of the window or something.” You deadpan, watching him cross his arm and grumble something about ‘elevating the upper body’, and ‘actually very good for the immune system’. 

Having shoved him not-too-lightly onto the couch, you stand with your arms crossed, eyes narrowed on him.

“I can’t believe you were going to go to work! Living with you is like living with a child sometimes, god. You know you would have been sent home straight away, look at you.” You gesture wildly at him. 

He’s a pathetic sight, curled up on the couch looking distinctly sorry for himself. His hair is limp, flat against his scalp, his weak limbs shoved haphazardly in a button down and slacks. He hasn’t even knotted his tie, leaving it hanging loosely around his neck. 

Grabbing his phone out of his bag, you thrust it towards him. 

“Call your boss and tell him you need a sick day. You said it yourself, it’s just paperwork today, right? You can take a day off once in a while, Spence, it won’t kill you.” Once finished, you stomp out of the room, heading to his bedroom to grab him some clothes. Surveying his closet, you grab one of his Caltech hoodies and a pair of sweatpants, grinning to yourself when you hear his hoarse voice on the phone. 

As you walk back into the living room, he’s settled in, clearly resigned to his fate. 

“Yeah, Hotch, I need the day off. I’m sorry, I’m just- Oh. It’s okay? You’re sure? Um, okay. Thanks Hotch.” He hangs up, his eyebrows pinched as if he’s loath to admit you were right. 

You can’t help it, snickering as you dump the sweats and hoodie on his chest. 

“I told you so.”

“You’re so mean to me.” 

It’s nice, spending a day with Spencer like this, even with how whiny he is. Sitting at the desk in the living room, you’re not being incredibly productive, but Spencer’s fever-induced rambles more than make up for it. 

“So, some moron made a blog called ‘What Would Carl Sagan Do?’, and Garcia - remember her, my coworker? She showed it to me, and oh my god, it’s so ridiculous! I mean, to start, all the entries were lifted from different sci-fi movies and books, and they were all so inaccurate, like, ‘The Martian Chronicles’ were good, but it’s been debunked so many times! Carl Sagan debunked it!”

He’s laying on his back on the couch, slender fingers waving in the air above him, eyes lidded as he speaks animatedly. 

“Yeah? What was wrong about it?” You rise from the desk chair, heading into the kitchen. “Also, do you want tea?”

His voice softens, speaking slower as he answers your question. “Yeah, that black tea you brought home last week, please.”

You can hear the moment he slips back into his rant, words growing more and more spirited as he continues to rail against whatever that blog was. Puttering around the cramped kitchen, you let his words roll over you, balancing two mugs and a plate in your hands. 

He doesn’t stop speaking, but flashes you a grateful smile as he takes a mug from you, swiping a cookie from the plate before delving back into the topic at hand.

“So, Bradbury, and a lot of the other sci-fi writers of the time, believed that colonisation of Mars would be possible within the 20th century. And then, in 1960, Carl Sagan, along with a bunch of other astronomers, discovered that Mars doesn’t have an atmosphere, so humans living there long term is virtually impossible without a huge improvement in technology, which probably won't happen until the latter half of the 21st century. And this moron with a blog is pretending like Sagan wouldn’t care, and that he would advocate for irresponsible space travel and I hate him.” 

He finishes with a huff, taking a large gulp of tea and sitting up against the couch. His eyes are hazy with exhaustion, eyelids drooping as he looks at you. You can’t help but giggle. He looks adorably dishevelled, and his eyebrows pinching together at your laughter only intensifies it.

“What? Why are you laughing?”

“I’m- I’m sorry Spence, you just look really cute right now, like you’re going to fall asleep.” You can barely get it out, body shaking with mirth. His eyebrows furrow further, a slight pout forming on his lips. 

His attempts to get you to stop laughing go unanswered, and he huffs once more, crossing his arms and settling against the couch cushions. 

It’s the late afternoon when a knock on the door stirs you from your reverie. Spencer is sitting next to you, your legs slung over his lap as he leans back, eyes trained on The Fellowship of the Ring on the television as his hands tap out something on your calves. 

“Are you expecting anyone?” He shakes his head no, not averting his gaze from the screen. 

You sigh, jostling his shoulder. 

“Spence. Spence, can you go get the door? It’s probably a salesman or something.” 

He hums, shaking his head once more. 

“Can’t. Too sick.”

You groan, tipping your head back in frustration before hauling yourself off the couch, flicking his shoulder as you walk past.

“You’re infuriating, you know that?” His only response is a grin, before he turns back to the movie. 

Grumbling under your breath, you trudge through the room to the front door, frowning when you look through the peephole to see two figures. 

One is shorter than the other, a woman wearing a hot pink and orange dress that should be garish, but looks completely natural on her. The man next to her is grinning, holding several plastic bags in one hand, the other arm linked with the woman’s. 

Not salesmen. 

Concluding that they’re probably not a threat, you swing the door open, causing their heads to pop up. 

“Hey, Reid- Oh.” The man speaks immediately, but pauses when he sees you. 

“You’re not Reid.” The woman concludes. 

You tilt your head to the side, confused. 

“Yeah, I’m not. Um, how do you know Spencer?” 

They share a confused look.

“We’re his coworkers. Derek and Penelope. Sorry, who are you? Do we have the wrong apartment?” 

You brighten, recognising the names from Spencer’s many stories about work. 

“Oh, that’s who you are! No, you’ve got the right apartment, of course. Come in.” You turn to the side, allowing them to walk in, although their expressions remain bewildered. “I’m Spence’s roommate, Y/N. He’s in the living room.”

“Roommate?” Derek exclaims before setting his sights on Spencer, striding over to him. 

“Hey, pretty boy.” Spencer jolts, the haze of sickness having made sure that he didn’t notice them till now. His voice is higher than normal, squeaky. 

“Morgan! What are you- Garcia? Why- why are you here?” Penelope smiles mischievously, plopping down on the couch next to Spencer. 

“Well, we obviously wanted to check up on you, Boy Wonder. This is the first sick day you’ve taken in the last two years - don’t try to lie to me, I checked - and now, we’re very interested in your friend here.” Her smile loses its teasing edge when she turns to you. 

A grin spreads over your face, recognising the same teasing affection you feel towards him in the two newcomers. Retaking your seat on Spencer’s other side, you pull your feet up on the couch, tucking them under Spencer’s thigh. 

Penelope squeaks quietly, but averts her gaze when you look up at her questioningly. 

“So, you guys have worked with Spence for a while, huh?”

Derek sits in the armchair across from you, chuckling under his breath.

“Since he was 22. Back when he straightened his hair and wore those sweater vests that were three sizes too big.” Spencer lets out a strangled noise of protest next to you, but you both ignore him in favour of continuing your conversation. 

“Seriously? I’ve seen one photo of him back then, but then he started hiding them all from me. You got any?” 

Penelope perks up, pulling out a tablet from her work bag. 

“Yes! Oh my goodness, sweetheart, I have so many. Did you know, he used to do this thing where he would gel his hair back, said it made him look older but it was honestly just really cute, hold on…”

She shifts and moves to sit on your other side, huddling over the tablet with you and Derek. 

Spencer is suddenly left in the lurch, stuck observing the three of you from the other end of the couch. He feels like he should be irritated, angry even, but he can’t do anything but watch, eyes softening. 

“Oh my god, Spencer, you were so cute, what happened?” Never mind, he’s feeling a bit irritated now.

It’s not endearing, no. No matter how lovely you look, your face flushed with excitement. No matter how easily you fit in with some of his favourite people in the world.

It’s not captivating, not at all.

[found-wings]

I WAS MINDING MY DAMN BUSINESS LISTENING TO ONE OF MY FAV SONGS AND THE BUS OF CODE PHIL RAN INTO ME AND DESTROYED MY LIFE anyway which witch by florence + the machine (best artist ever) oh my god is literally him in the worst way possible the pain the agony (also if u don't want anymore song recs idm^^ ik I've left quite a bit in the askbox but I can slow down if needed :] )

-

And it's my whole heart

Weighed and measured inside

And it's an old scar

Trying to bleach it out

And it's my whole heart

Deemed and delivered a crime

I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out

I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out

Who's a heretic now?

Am I making sense?

How can you make it stick?

Waiting 'til the beat comes out

-

this verse radiates energy from the realization he has of his history with the federation combined with them realizing that he's figured them out and need to make quick work of him in order to keep him in line. not only messing with him physically in experiments but also mentally in making sure to break him down and making him look crazy in order to decrease his threat levels towards any future acts they may commit against the people of the island. also the 'deemed and delivered a crime' can also associate with the brief period of certain members of the island learning about phils federation lineage and creating contingency plans behind his back in case he goes rogue to attack them. (of course he does but not willingly ;-;)

-

I'm not beat up by this yet

You can't tell me to regret

Been in the dark since the day we met

Fire, help me to forget

And it's my whole heart

While tried and tested, it's mine

And it's my whole heart

Trying to reach it out

And it's my whole heart

Burned but not buried this time

-

oh this part verrrrry specifically is what made everything click right in my mind for this au- especially when thinking about his friendship with etoiles. when I hear this section, I got reminded of the 'repairs' the federation forces onto phil with every trip, how everytime they continue and continue to crack him more and more and shatter him into pieces but he keeps getting. back. up. no matter what they do to him, at the end it's etoiles who's there to keep reminding him that he is still his own person, at his core he is whole and the federation can't take away who he is for long. everytime the federation fucks him up and tries to make it seem as if nothing had happened with the memory wipes of said experiments, this time,, phil has people alongside him to help him remember who he is. the repetition of 'and it's my whole heart' is so codebreakers in this au with it being phil repeating the mantras etoiles has instilled in his mind that he's still his own person and he is still good despite all the damage the federation not only inflicts on him but attends to inflict onto others. it's very good that many of the island members he surrounds himself with are powerful enough to make sure he isn't hurting others physically. mentally though, seeing a good friend lose himself and have to constantly remind himself of who he is can be taxing on the mind.

-

Chained and shackled, oh

All that gravel, oh

It's a pity, oh

Never to return

But I never learn

It's a pity, oh

(x2)

-

the repeating outro reminds me very specifically of the conditioning training the federation instilled in phils head. acknowledging the metaphorical weights they placed upon him to keep him shackled to them and the island- not only when referring to him unconsciously returning to them in times of enhanced stress and post-acts of rule breaking, but in the clips of his wings that leave him physically immobile when in the world of the skies that he so desperately wants to go back too

AAAAAAAAAAA so many florence songs r him rn it literally inspired me to make a q!phil playlist bc of it and the brain is braininggggggg. also wow with having like 3 song asks shoved in here im really living up to the disc anon name LMAOOOOOO - 💿

Can I just say I am absolutely in love with how you connect lyrics to things and explain them and word everything??? Because HELLO????

ADDING THIS TO THE PLAYLIST POST AS SOON AS I GET DONE WRITING THIS RESPONSE

Honestly the overall song gives me kind of.. angry vibes?? As in connecting it to the code au, it feels like a song that connects to Phils anger towards the Federation that‘s fueled by his close friends, but especially so by Etoiles who has been there for him as much as possible. Repeatingly helping him back up no matter how many times he‘s forced back down to kneel, to submit.

THIS SONG IS SO GOOD WAAAH

[66stitches]

dating abby headcanons

Art by fjorgust on instagram

Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel

divider creds

꩜ She isn’t super big on pda, but does little stuff like grab your hand or give you occasional kisses on the forehead just to remind you of how she loves you (and to let everyone know you’re hers).

꩜ With that being said, she’s all over you once you’re home.

꩜ Absolutely loves lazy morning cuddles and kisses far more than she’d like to admit.

꩜ I just know she listens to dad music. Definitely a big fan of The Offspring.

꩜ Loves to spoil her girl, but even though she doesn’t admit it, she secretly loves being spoiled and coddled as well.

꩜ Has a pretty high pain tolerance, but would sometimes exaggerate her pain just so you’d coddle and baby her, especially when she’s on her period.

And you know she’s fibbing, but you knew that if you confronted her she would immediately deny it and get super defensive (which is how you know she’s lying).

But you love babying her, so you’re more than happy to play along.

꩜ She snores, but it’s pretty soft and light, so you don’t really mind at all. It’s actually pretty comforting.

꩜ Shares her coin collection with you. You don’t really get the fascination, but seeing her ramble on passionately about what new coins she found only makes you fall in love deeper.

꩜ Reads classics. A huge fan of Dostoevsky. But also she loves nonfictions.

꩜ Absolutely sucks at video games. If you play, she’ll ask if she can try, only to get your character killed like five seconds later then complain that “something’s up with your controller.”

꩜ Loves having her hair played with. She would have trouble sleeping sometimes, but once your fingers are on those golden strands of hers she’s out like a light, already softly snoring into the pillow.

꩜ Sleeps completely naked with you. Not for any sexual purpose, but just feeling her bare skin against yours as you’re sleeping makes her feel closer to you than ever. It’s an innocently intimate and loving moment she likes to share with you.

Honestly just imagine cuddling to sleep at night completely naked. Everything is quiet and you’re peppering sleepy kisses on each other’s face, neck, shoulders, and rubbing each other’s arms and back 'til you fall asleep oh god I’m SICK.

꩜ This woman is in love with sitcoms and I will not be elaborating any further.

꩜ Claims she doesn’t like cats, but once came home like an hour late because she got caught up playing with a stray cat. Refused to tell you the real reason why she was late.

꩜ Cracks the dumbest jokes you’ve ever heard that only put a smile on your face because of how stupid they are and how cute she is when she says them.

Remember that scene where she was trying to joke around with Lev but she’s just super bad at it and he didn’t even try to play along? “You know our dogs can play cards like that?” Yeah, she does that with you too.

꩜ Cries after arguments (canon) but can’t stand people seeing her cry. She’s a pretty emotional person methinks.

꩜ Loves festivities. Will go all out on christmas and halloween, decorating the entire place and buying gifts (pesters you with questions about what you got her).

꩜ Pesto. She loves it on everything.

꩜ Loves massages. Back, shoulders, feet, scalp. Loves them all and only wants them from you.

꩜ A caregiver. (If you’re on meds), she’ll always make sure you take them and take them at the right time. She ensures that you eat three meals a day and get enough sleep, and even doesn’t let you stay up for too long. She just wants her girl to stay healthy.

꩜ She’s a total book hoarder. She promises not to buy another book 'til she’s done reading the ones she has, only for you to find a paper bag with ten new books the next day.

꩜ Loves you endlessly and has your entire wedding planned out in her head. She knows exactly what songs she wants to play and how she wants your dresses to look.

[kakujis]

do you love me?;

tokrev ver.

synopsis: you/they wake them/you up at 3am.

ft + wc: isagi yoichi, michael kaiser, oliver aiku. around 2k

warnings: gn!reader, no set timelines, pet names, situationship (oliver) extremely! soft! oliver!!, slightly angsty (oliver), slight jealousy (kaiser), kaiser's is suggestive, none really for isagi! aaand that should be it!

a/n: i finally finished something!! i've been in such a rut not only with writing but with reading. TnT. hopefully i can write more once my semester is finished! anyways, i wrote oliver's in basically one sitting kicking my feet n screaming. also ily to zen cus i dropped like the entire fic in their dms LMFAOO. and ily to su for proofreading for me!! hope u enjoy ♡.

ETA: DO NOT TRANSLATE OR SHARE ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM. THANK YOU.

isagi:

you always saw the twinkle in isagi yoichi’s eyes when he talked about soccer. it was cute, charming, and part of what attracted you to him. when the two of you finally started dating, soccer was very much a part of your lives. you’d pop in at practice whenever you could and much to his delight, you’d even try to learn about his idols and the game. 

when you studied it on your own, it was fine, you could go at your own pace. but when isagi was there, it was a little different. he always had so much to say, so many techniques and teams to go over. he was like a walking soccer encyclopedia and you appreciated it, even when it got a little overwhelming. 

but tonight, as he talked your ear off about noel noa for the nth time, you found yourself dozing off. the black haired striker’s eyes were glued to the match he was playing on the tv, every so often rewinding or slowing down a play to explain it. you tried your best, really, to stay awake but it was nearing 3am and soon enough yoichi was speaking to himself. 

“man, that was sick!” he exclaims. he’s about to ask your opinion when he finally looks back to see your head in your arms, asleep. “…oh.” 

he rouses you out of sleep, shaking your shoulder gently. when you awaken you’re met with his pouting face. you blink off the drowsiness, rubbing your eyes. “sorry i dozed off…” you reach for the remote, but he stops you. “yoichi?” 

“do you love me?” you’re caught off guard by the seriousness in his voice and the intensity of his gaze. 

you nod, “of course i do.” 

“say it.” it’s not uncharacteristic for him to be intense at times, but the glint in his eye is something you usually only see when he’s playing. you didn’t think you’d see it now and it’s a bit amusing. 

“i love you, yoichi.” you say, a smug grin on your face as you poke at his pouty cheeks. “aww, are you upset?” 

snapping out of it, he waves your hand away, slightly turning while his cheeks blush bright red. “…no.” 

“my baby,” you coo, continuing to reach over and squish his cheeks, “i’m sorry for falling asleep, yoi.”

“it’s okay…” he mumbles, enjoying the attention, “i didn’t realize you were so sleepy.” 

“well, it is 3am…” you giggle, pointing to his alarm clock. 

it’s cute how fast his head whips around to look. “oh… my bad.” he apologizes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“don’t worry about it,” you shrug, before getting up and pulling at his hands. “let’s go to sleep, yeah?” 

but isagi pauses, conflicted, before glancing back at the tv. “… just one more play?” 

“yoichi!” you whine, the idea of cuddling with your boyfriend in bed being extremely appealing. 

“please?” he pleads, hands clasped, and you sigh, giving in to his doe eyes. 

“fine. one more. that’s it and then we’re going to bed.” you say, settling down next to him. but if you’re being honest, you’re never immune to isagi yoichi.

the light in his eyes as he rambles and talks to you about his favorite thing always overwhelms anything else. you love him, wholly and fully. and maybe that’s why you don’t mention anything as one play turns to two, which then turns into the entire match. not a single word escapes you as he loads up the next game, telling you “this next one is insane.” 

it’s isagi’s turn to fall asleep and as the sun peeks over the horizon, you press a peck to his cheek as you wrap a blanket over his shoulders. 

“good night, yoichi.” 

kaiser:

michael kaiser was many things, first and foremost a soccer player, secondly, a striker with a god complex and most importantly, your boyfriend. well, perhaps most important to you and although you’re mostly able to cast aside that doubt to love him fully, there are still moments when you just have to hear it. 

it’s 3am and kaiser’s in deep sleep, evident by the subtle snores coming from him. in contrast, you’re fully awake and sitting next to him, one finger trailing the expanse of his skin, from the curve of his cheek to the line of his jaw. he stirs slightly, but nonetheless stays asleep and that annoys you. 

“michael,” you whine, prodding at his cheek, “do you love me?” his eyelids flutter, face contorting to the singsong of your voice. 

“huh?” he responds, eyes opening and brows furrowing into a scowl you continue to prod. he grabs your hand, pulling it away from him. “what is it?” 

“do you love me?” you repeat, happily humming at his pretty face. 

he tsks before grumbling out a “nein.” he huffs before turning over. 

you pause, before scowling yourself. “what did you just say?” 

“nein.” he reiterates, closing his eyes. “goodnight.” 

you scoff, before shaking him again. “hey… seriously!” but it’s useless. kaiser’s decided it’s time for bed. truth be told, you should probably get some sleep too. but it’s annoying when you do feel like a side character in his story and not his co-lead. fine, you can be petty too. 

you round up your pillows, sighing and making sure to climb over him as you get off the bed. he catches your wrist as you try to leave, brow arched. 

“where are you going?” he asks, confused.

“the couch.” you deadpan. 

“why?” 

“i don’t wanna sleep next to someone who doesn’t love me.” you pout, hugging your pillow tightly. 

“it was a joke, liebe.” he sighs, pulling you down back into bed. “of course, i love you.” 

“hmm… you’re just pacifying me.” you say, hoping he’ll get the hint and finally give you some of the affection you’ve been craving. 

and he does, rolling his eyes before pressing a deep kiss to your lips. he makes sure to give you a few more afterwards, your giggle floating around his ears. “happy now?” 

“very.” you smile and he smiles back, but you can’t let him think he’s won just yet. “hey, i have a joke too.” 

“yeah? and you think it’s better than mine?” he teases and you grin even wider, nodding excitedly. “i’m all ears.” 

“okay. make sure you listen and like, really listen.” you command and he nods, moving his ear closer to your lips. “you’re a better player than isagi yoichi.” 

his face falls immediately and you burst out laughing, pushing off of him and grabbing your pillow again. you figure after your little stint, you’ll seriously be sleeping on the couch. 

“super funny, right? i should be a comedian.” you muse, before leaning down and giving him a peck on the cheek. “good night, emperor.” 

you turn to leave again, but kaiser’s quick to pull you down and underneath him. you yelp as he straddles you, pinning your wrists above your head. he’s frighteningly close, the tips of his blonde and blue hair hovering over your skin. 

there’s one thing about him that you don't know and it’s that he’ll never admit how soft you make him, how it’s actually he who melts at the sound of your voice. how it’s him who wants to hear nothing but endless praise from you, so maybe he did get a little mad at that joke.

“m-michael?” you squeak, squirming under his hold, “what are you doing?” 

“what do you mean? i’ve gotta remind you who the best striker in the world is.” he states and you recognize that look in his eyes. you didn’t think it’d rile him up this much. 

“babe, it was a joke!” 

he barks a laugh as you squirm harder underneath him. “it’s gonna be a long night, liebe.” 

oliver: 

“hey oliver, do you love me?” 

perhaps not the best time to ask, neon bright 3:00 AM displayed on your alarm clock lets you know that. but still, the beating of oliver aiku’s heart that drums through your ears prompts you to ask anyway. 

he’s asleep, or so you think, and shirtless, with the press of your cheek against his chest, his skin feels warm. shyly, you stay looking at the wall, sometimes trailing down to his limp hand. meanwhile, your fingers ghost over his skin, writing little “i love you”s and infinity signs like an incantation or a spell. 

“dumb question,” you continue, “i know you don’t.” you give a small smile, it’s how the situation between you two works. you can sleep together, hold hands, maybe even call each other ‘partners’, but you never breach that threshold. he’s always just out of reach.

but oliver is awake, eyes stirred open by the figure eights you’ve been writing on him. he’s been listening to you the entire time, eyes blinking up at the ceiling. 

“well… in case you were wondering, i think i love you,” you confess, your heart thumping wildly, “like a lot, actually. do you…  think i’m stupid?” you pause, before opening your mouth to say that he doesn’t have to answer, but oliver cuts you off. 

“not really.” he says, the hand that was resting on your waist, starting to stroke your skin. 

you freeze before pushing yourself up and off of him. “hey! h-how long have you been awake?” 

he smirks and you hate the way your heart flutters, “a while,” he sits up, “hey, i love myself too.” 

you deflate a little, it’s too much of the same, the same jokes and the brushing off of feelings. but you should know this by now, that he doesn’t love you. “yeah, just not me.” you look away, wishing he would lie to you just one time. “i should go-“ 

he reaches over, grabbing your chin between his fingers and leveling your gazes together. “i never said that.” 

you blink, wide-eyed and you’re not sure what to do or even what to say. and while you’re sure your heart is beating so fast you swear he can hear it, you’re also emboldened, mustering up the courage to ask, “never said what?” but your voice comes out small, whispery and featherlight. 

“that i don’t love you.” he says. he doesn’t break eye-contact, pretty two-tone eyes locked on yours. 

you can’t help your emotions, the way they swell up in you overwhelmingly, as if you’re drowning in them. 

“do you love me, oliver?” you’re too happy to be embarrassed by the break in your voice when you say his name, too fixated on the way he touches you so gently. it’s like he can’t hurt you now, no matter what he’s done before. 

he nods, the hand on your chin moving to cup your cheek as he strokes his thumb reassuringly over your skin. he catches the tears that fall, thinking that it’s much better to see you happy cry than when he does something stupid. 

“could you say it? please?” you sniffle, placing a hand over his, keening into his touch. 

he gives a breathy laugh out of nervousness, before he clears his throat and says it, loud and clear. “i love you, y/n.” 

you laugh through your tears, relieved, because all the time you spent wondering was okay and the wait was worth it. the way it rolls off his tongue is so natural and so warm it has your head spinning. 

he brings up his other hand, wiping away at the tears that continue to fall. “c’mon baby, you’re gonna cry all night?” he teases, squishing your cheeks between his hands. 

“‘m not dreaming?” you mumble, shaking your head, “this is real? you really love me?” 

maybe when you wake up in the morning it’ll be different. maybe he’ll be back to the same old oliver, the one who deflects and dodges all your questions. so maybe it is a dream. but, if this is a dream… do they always feel so good? and is it possible to stay asleep? 

he hums, before asking, “does this feel real?” as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. it’s sincere and authentic, the kind that makes your heart bloom. he pulls away, but only slightly to rest his forehead against yours. you nod and he grins, “good.”

[causenessus]

comforting you. | bungou stray dogs

inc. chuuya, dazai, ranpo, odasaku

written is second pov (no gendered pronouns used)

"you deserve this." by men i trust

word count: 4.6k words

notes/warnings: separate scenarios for each bsd man and how they comfort you when you’re feeling down, giving you both love and realistic advice. i feel like i bounced between writing generalized headcanons and hyperspecific scenarios, so i’m sorry but i hope you enjoy this <3 each of you is deserving of so much love and patience <3 you deserve to be here <3 each pairing is in an established relationship. also (relevant for odasku’s scenario), the orphans are still alive. my writing my universe. i'm actually beastzai in another au where everyone lives and is happy and everything is okay. use of pet names "sweetheart" (chuuya scenario) "angel" (dazai scenario) and "love" (oda). general hurt/comfort drabbles :) lmk if I should add anything! i would NOT consider this proofread because I read it half-asleep at midnight trying to edit it so forgive me for any mistakes 🙏

special shoutouts to @dorotheasdiary + @aouzi for hyping me up/listening to my rambles abt this work!! sorry for the tag </3

chuuya.

sometimes the urge to give up became too strong. 

was it too much to ask time to stop for just one day? it seemed all your pleas to the sky were falling on deaf ears.

still, as all things do, you eventually lost the motivation to keep pushing forward on your own.

like a runner who trips upon a small pebble and can’t get back into their pace, slowly, slowly falling behind the others.

the one difference was that you had come to a complete stop. you'd never allowed yourself a break until you were completely burnt out; unable to move even a muscle.

you haven’t even made it out of bed the whole day. 

the room was starting to feel sick and stuffy with how long you’d laid in those sheets that no longer seemed to provide any comfort. rather, you felt like you were simply dirtying the sheets by continuing to lie there, purposeless, useless.

you barely had it in you to call out of work before drifting back into a mundane sleep that you continued to wake up and fall back into for the better half of the day. you hadn’t looked at your phone after sending a quick text to your manager, unprepared for whatever kind of passive-aggressive response they'd messaged back with because of your late notice. the unknown was too much right now, you couldn't focus on anyone you couldn't read but yourself. you didn’t want to be around friends, family, or people out on the street, where your mind would run rapid laps around itself, trying to figure out what everyone thought of you.

at work, it was the same; sizing yourself up to your coworkers, figuring out how well-liked you were— how replaceable you would be if one day you suddenly up and dropped, or, more likely in your mind, you annoyed everyone enough that they let you go. 

never really knowing what others thought terrified you. obviously it wasn't the norm despite living in a world filled with those gifted with abilities to be able to read another's mind but that didn’t mean your mind could simply let the anxieties go. your head always seemed to be buzzing, preoccupied with concerns about something.

which is why you had tried to block everything out, the moment you woke up this morning and every rustle of your legs tumbled in the sheets was too loud for your ears; a playlist of music on shuffle played softly from your phone nearby, giving your brain something mindless to focus on while you had your head pressed between pillows to deafen out the rest of the world.

you didn’t feel any better or any energized despite how much you had slept today, but at the very least, sleep often took you away from constantly having to listen to whatever your mind wanted to rave and overthink next.

'what time is it? have i even gotten up once today? i should at least walk around. clean up. i'll never be motivated to get out of bed like this—' there your head went, taking one simple question and turning it into spindles of chains to wrap around your throat.

but when you feel the mattress sink beside you, suddenly everything goes quiet. the sheets become just sheets again–not something you’re sinking into or dirtying. someone has opened the curtains, revealing an orange sunset outside, and something nice is playing from the speaker of your phone, you realize.

he is the only one who doesn’t make your head spin. he is your grounding anchor, the gravitational force keeping your feet planted on this earth, opening your eyes to the beauty of the world you couldn’t otherwise see due your own anxieties.

“you been here all day?” he must have snuck in without you even hearing him (which isn’t hard to believe, considering the cushions you’d just been pressing to both of your ears), even giving him enough time to change. chuuya’s hair is still in a loose ponytail and he wears that black choker around his neck as always, but he’s dressed in a white shirt and some sweatpants, his gloveless hands reaching out to rub circles in your back.

he’s bare with you, and that’s what you love most about him.

you’ve had you’re insecurities about not being good enough for him and anything else typical within a relationship, but he never leaves you wondering. he grabs your hand to keep you from floating away too far, getting lost in your own thoughts, often pulling you back into the moment, when you’re lying in bed with him on quiet nights, the sides of your faces only lit by a nearby warm bedside lamp. he’ll trace the side of your face, searching your eyes, asking, “where did you go?”

and you can’t always answer, but you know, every time he asks you this question, that at least you can tell him where you are now. you’re at home with him. 

and this moment is no different, with his calloused hands gliding up and down your back, and you only let out a small whine, shuffling closer to him as best as you can with how tangled you are up in his sheets.

“what’s wrong?” he asks softly, head tilting towards you slightly as you shimmy closer. “how can i help, sweetheart?”

you like how clear he is. how he always tells you what he’s thinking. he never leaves anything up to interpretation, always silencing your thoughts before they can make an assumption and run far with it.

while in the beginning of your relationship, it was hard to always voice what you needed, you came to realize with time that when chuuya asked you what he could do to help, it wasn’t him pressuring you to tell him what was wrong. it was simply how his head worked; he wanted you to be clear about what you needed. if that meant talking out your problems, he would listen. if that meant leaving you alone, he’d give you as much time as you needed (albeit probably checking in at some points just to make sure you didn’t need anything, it was just his nature to care for you). but all in all, he just needed you to talk to him. he would talk to you, you would talk to him. that's how miscommunication was prevented. your mind always felt so clear when you were around him because of how rationally he seemed to think of everything—all you had to do was follow his lead, and everything else came easily. things were never sugar-coated between the two of you, they were said plain and simple. (and with how charming he was, chuuya’s words often ended up being just as sweet as sugar anyway, not even needing to be wrapped up in some false front. when he said “i love you,” it was something clear. a fact, not something said just to appease you or mellow things out, he said it because he meant it).

and how refreshing it was, being lost in a sea of your own murky, unclear thoughts based off of assumptions upon assumptions, to be pulled from that ocean to the shoreline and be promised that the sun would rise again.

eventually, opening up to him became easier. even thought it sometimes took a few hours, you always ended up telling him what was on your mind and he waited patiently every time. he only ever listened unless you asked for more, and he never invalidated your feelings. trusting that he was just going to listen to you, it began to take even less time to prepare yourself to open up. it became as easy as taking a sip of water; something you had to do voluntarily, but was still needed, healing, and often refreshing.

the pitch of your voice slightly heightens as you hum a “yes” in response to his question, curling up closer to him, and his fingers have found their way into your hair, combing through it. “got tired of everything,” you whisper softly, resting your forehead against the side of his thigh, thankful for his contact.

“yeah? i’m sure you did, baby. you’re doing a lot. it’s good to take a break every now and then. anything in particular spur you to take the day off? there’s no shame in just deciding to take a rest day for the hell of it either, though,” he speaks as gently as his actions, shifting slightly on the bed so that you can rest more comfortably, your head now laying in his lap, and he brushes your hair out of your face as you look up at him and his pretty bangs framing his face as he leans down towards you.

you hum in thought at the question, searching your brain for the answer. was there something that had triggered you to break today? or was it just the build-up of it all? “not really anything in particular,” you shrug slightly, still admiring his golden-brown eyes, hooded and soft, gazing into your own, “just felt like everything came toppling down today. i’ve just been thinking too much about what others think of me. i don’t feel that important to the world, or my job. i’m easily replaceable–nothing special–and yet i have to keep fighting for this job. i have to fight to occupy space for myself in the world when i never even asked to be here in the first place. —and of course you make everything better but i mean–you know me. you’re good to me. you’re too good to me. and sometimes i can’t understand why you waste all of that goodness in you on me.” by the time you’re finished, he’s gently lifted your head out of his lap to lay down on his side next to you, continuing to face you the entire time. 

you finish your long-winded explanation of unreasonable worries, and he only stares into your face, and you begin to shift under his eyes uncomfortably. his head his propped up in his hands, and he wears a small smile on his face, eyes flicking every few moments to focus on a different part of your face. “...chuu?” you whisper his name quietly, and his smile only grows.

“sorry, got too caught up admiring your pretty face,” he apologizes, and there he goes again, being so honest it makes your heart squeeze sometimes. he shifts his position slightly, reaching out his free hand to intertwine his slender fingers with yours, gently pressing the pads of his fingertips against your own, playing with them. “well, first of all, don’t think of your life through the lens that you are now. you can’t control or read anyone else’s mind, and that’s okay. people make a lot of irrational decisions anyway, it’s impossible to predict what someone will do, so don’t worry about what they think. what makes how they perceive you or what they think more correct than what you feel? they could be totally wrong about something, and they are if they think you’re replaceable, or bad, or whatever. don’t make yourself smaller for anyone else. you’re so smart and thoughtful and if anyone makes you feel bad about who you are, i’ll talk shit back to them, alright?”

you nod at his words but don’t meet his attempt to lighten the mood, only shifting closer again, hiding your face in his chest, breathing in his scent. his hand is back on your head, keeping you close while combing through your hair. “i think you're perfect as you are, [y/n]. i wouldn't want you any other way. you're the only thing on my mind all the time and you’re all i think about—if you're worried about what goes through my mind. i'll always be here for you, i'll be right behind you even if the world is against you. all you need is me, i’d burn everything to the ground for you in a heartbeat."

dazai.

as a kid, you quickly learned not to fight back. 

others were allowed to be angry and lash out, but when you did the same, it was wrong wrong wrong.

when you were young, you learned that love was conditional.

there was no understanding when it came to your emotions. no matter the kind of day that you had you were still expected to always be kind and patient, and never yell back.

to be loved–or rather, to simply survive in this world, you had to be the smaller person; never expect someone to love you for who you are, but because they like that you’re agreeable, quiet, and passive. never expect anyone to care about how you feel, no matter how close of a friend they are.

and surely, you couldn’t expect any kind of empathy from a coworker.

but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, and you could feel the way your chest contracted, suffocating with you, every time you were the brunt of kunikida’s critiques. there was no middle between letting the man belittle you to a husk of your former self or the scariest option of all: say something and risk your dynamic with him worsening even more.

setting boundaries and speaking your mind had never been things that came easy to you, as admitting that something was wrong in your relationship with someone always seemed to leave a gaping hole in the relationship that would always be prevalent, at least to you. telling someone who seemed to be unaware of how unkind their words were “you’re hurting me” seemed to always make things awkward between you and the other party. they realized they could no longer throw you around and every time they left, you couldn't help but think you should've dealt with it and kept your mouth shut. 

so you smile and nod along to whatever kunikida’s ordering you to do next, fake laughing when he says something about how important the job is and to make sure you don’t fail, as if such an option was even possible. you had never messed up anything he asked you to do, and with how long he went on about the importance of the job, you never planned to. but his ending words always reminded you of how little your efforts seemed to matter to him. he would never trust you or see you as anything better than just a little office worker to dump work on.

your face drops as soon as the man turns his back to you, and you let out a quiet sigh before returning to the laptop in front of you before hands upon your shoulders scare you.

“caught you!” a voice pops up from behind you, making you exclaim, jumping in your seat, whipping your head around to see a familiar brown-haired man. he was always causing problems for kunikida and getting scolded, and yet he seemed to be able to take everything as a light-hearted joke. he came into work every day with a smile on his face and new ways to irritate kunikida, while you couldn’t see yourself ever returning to this office if that man yelled at you the way he yelled at the boy in front of you even once.

“dazai! you scared me,” your eyes follow him as he slides into the chair next to you, slightly rolling away from you with how he’d launched himself into the seat. “what did you…catch?” you ask, watching as he scoots closer back to you again, resting his cheek on a bandaged arm atop of the oak desk you both sit at.

“now, now. let's not try and act all innocent. why are you letting him talk to you like that if it hurts you?” he asks with a smile, while your face only pales, your heart completely freezing up the moment you hear the question you fear most. you have to tear your eyes away before he sees through you anymore, and you look down into your lap, where you’re picking at your fingers. if dazai noticed it, surely others did. had kunikida been able to read your face? had you offended him because you refused to communicate your true feelings with him? maybe you seemed like a stuck-up individual in his eyes if he could tell that you were faking with him, and you weren’t sure if him believing that lie or finding out the truth would be worse.

“well i…” you trail off when his fingers come into your line of sight, intertwining them with yours, stopping you from the bad habit.

“have i ever gotten upset with you for very understandably getting annoyed at my endless antics? have we ever disagreed on something we absolutely refused to resolve? no to both. but are humans creatures of imperfection by nature? have we all made mistakes? yes, and that’s why they’re able to forgive each other unless they’re insufferably stuck up. but don’t let your head turn kunikida into a monster he’s not. he’ll understand if you ask him to speak to you less directly, or with more belief in you. he’s giving you these jobs because he trusts you, you know. he just rambles on about the importance of them because that’s who he is. you know that, and you know him. you know he’ll work to treat others with the respect they deserve, you just have to tell him so first. but he’s not going to get mad at you,” your eyes flick up from where he’s running a thumb along your knuckles up to him, only to find him already looking at you with those warm hazel brown eyes of his. he’s right, and it feels nice to be seen and not bashed for your true feelings. instead, you're being understood. under his gaze, you no longer feel weak for how sensitive or emotional you may feel. he’s looking at you like you’re worth something, worth enough that you can fight for yourself, worth enough to deserve to be comfortable in your relationships, rather than used by those near you.

“thank you,” you mumble, and he’s pulled you close by the wheels of your own chair, your knees knocking as one of his hands reach up to caress the back of your neck, soothing you further as you continue to look at him.

his lips are still curved into a smile, not the trickster one he wears as he comes up with his next plot to harass kunikida, but a soft, genuine one, like he loves and cares about you, without you even asking anything of him. maybe this is what love is; being looked at and known, without even having to open your mouth.

“of course, angel,” he murmurs, fingers brushing against the back of your scalp, “bring it up while atsuhi or i are around if you want, we’ll help you explain how you feel. you’re not alone, you never were and you never have to be."

ranpo.

ranpo’s heightened abilities to observe, infer, and understand go far past anything related to his detective work. 

the first time he found you feeling down and wanted to comfort you, he defaulted to what he knows helps him feel better (i.e. sweet treats, dim lights, warm, quiet environments). the entire time, while his hand is on your back, rubbing it soothingly as you lean against him, soft cries muffled by the blanket he’s placed over you, his brain is running the entire time with what he can do best to support you; did you like what he brung you? do you prefer to isolate yourself or do you like the company when you’re feeling down? blankets or no blankets? do you want him to talk to you and try to provide a distraction or is just being there for you what you need? touch, or no touch?

ranpo is so attentive to your needs. whatever you want and is best for you, he will get you and do for you. he gives all thanks to fukuzawa, for helping him realize not everyone sees the world the way he does, all those years ago. since then, he’s learned to be more responsive, emotionally thoughtful, and soft-hearted in his responses if that’s that what you need. but if you want to hear logic and how he’s rationalizing out your situation, he can do that, too. again, he is completely willing to bend and shape himself to your needs. the only thing he will always push for is to be in a room with you when you’re feeling down, even if you don’t want company </3

he knows when you really need to be alone, but he doesn’t like to let you be on your own for too long. he’ll always be in the next room over if you need anything, quietly pacing the room, only worried and thinking of you and if he can do anything more for you. if you’re curled up in bed all night, he’ll eventually knock on the door to ask if he can sleep with you and keep you company. he wholeheartedly believes letting other people help you and be there for you helps, especially to prevent you from spiraling down any pits of despair or insecurity. he wants you to know how much he cares about you and your wellbeing, he wants to be there to hold you close, press gentle kisses to your head, and murmur promises that he’ll never ever leave you alone.

but if you say no to company, he is happy to sleep on the couch and will be up the moment you call his name if you need something or decide you do want company. he is there completely for you always and whenever, and all of it comes from a place of love. he’ll never push you to do anything or tell him anything you don’t want to, and he’ll try not to infer anything even if he knows he could use context clues to find out exactly what’s upsetting you. he knows you’ll tell him when you’re ready if you want to, and it’s never his job to be in your business. his only responsibility is to love you and make sure you know it <3

oda.

you’ve never been great at facing your own problems, and you’re even worse at facing others in your time of struggle. it feels impossible to rely upon anyone, no matter how close they are to you.

sakunosuke oda is a selfless man, always taking care of others, putting their wellbeing above his own. he took in five orphans despite knowing the increased risk to his own safety that would come with taking care of them, and he still chose to do it despite not having a place of his own to take care of them at. he gives half of his wage as one of the lowest-ranking members of the port mafia to the kids every time he receives his salary and he’s never once deviated from the habit.

you know he’d drop everything for you if you told him what was wrong, but you couldn’t do that to him. it didn’t feel that serious. and worst of all, telling him how you were feeling would only cause him to cut his job short and then he’d be standing there with you while you continued to wallow in misery; of course his presence would help you feel better, but it wouldn’t immediately solve everything.

it wasn’t worth it. was your justification as you slipped out of your shared apartment. it wasn’t worth telling someone else how you were feeling, because they couldn’t solve it. you couldn’t solve it. you couldn’t even figure out for yourself what was wrong. you had to make your existence worth it instead, then. the best way you found, to distract yourself from your feelings and make sure they remained pushed down, was by helping others. no one whose in need of help often asks how others are truly doing, and you like that about them.

you don’t tell him where you’re going. you have nothing to hide; you just don’t want to worry him. you’ll tell him if he asks, but for now, you’re on your own.

but what kind of partner would he be if he didn’t know you? if he hadn’t memorized and kissed every mole, freckle, and blemish adorning your body? he knew you better than you realized, although you could never fully accept the fact that he paid attention to you, remembered your likes and dislikes, and knew your habits and routines like the back of his hand, all just because he loves you.

and when he comes home from work to an empty house, searching for any traces of you, he’s not worried. he has an idea of where you are and he knows that all he needs to do is text you, if he's curious. and he doesn’t immediately push his assumptions onto you about why you might be out and where; he knows you can take care of yourself and that you’ll communicate your needs to him. so when he texts you, it's not that he's demanding that you come home or ot tell him your whereabouts. rather, his texts are just to let you know he cares and is waiting for you at home.

sakunosuke ♡ : i’m home, just wanted to let you know

sakunosuke ♡ : text me if you need anything. and be safe

if he sees that you haven’t at least read his message within an hour or if he just can't wait to see you when you get home, whenever that may be, he already knows where to find you nine times out of 10. he’ll text the owner of his favorite curry shop, asking him if he’s seen you while already on his way down to the restaurant.

it's usually where he can find you there when you’re feeling down; braiding sakura’s hair, folding their laundry, coloring with one of the boys, helping out downstairs in the kitchen, or wherever else you can find a place to keep yourself busy. he knows that you’re always like this when you’re upset, and if you won’t take the day off to take care of yourself, then he will do it for you happily and well. he won’t even try to pull you away from what you’re doing–he’ll simply sit down with you, grabbing his own colored pencil while making small talk with the kids, giving you a small smile when you realize he's come into the room. or suddenly he’s next to you, helping you carry and hang up laundry, or drying off the dishes you’re washing.

and then before you know it, you’re walking home with him, hand in hand, a plastic bag rustling in his free one. you’ve both stopped to get food on the way home, and once you make it there, he’s immediately sitting you down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “let me do everything, love.” he’ll help you out of your clothes into something more comfortable, holding your hair back while you wash your face and clean up, he’ll pull your chair out for you as you sit back down, and run a hand through your hair, keeping any stray strands out of your face as you eat. 

outside of the house, you can bury your feelings as much as you want to and work to please others, but at home with him, you’re the focus. you’re the one who’s honored and worshipped in the house. sakunosuke’s not letting you lift a finger if he can help it, and you can’t get away with continuing to ignore your feelings when his only desire is to help you.

and you’ll tell him what’s bothering you when you’re ready. he knows that after how long you both have been together. and so in the meantime, he’ll wait patiently, showering you with all the love in the world. ♡

[feygaleh]

I saw the post from that account that featured you in an ask from like two days ago and so this is a pretty belated response, but I just wanted to say that it made me so angry like I haven’t been in weeks. I cannot stand Zionist Jumblr, every day they seem to stoop to new lows I did not think were possible.

That post made me so mad because it’s like the epitome of everything wrong with Zionism online today, I simply cannot stand it what with their “I LovE JeWs BeING ThE BaD GUys NOw” like they cannot fathom any member of their tribe being capable of great evils, all while they endlessly call out everyone else for doing wrong. And their weird nonsensical whataboutisms that try and pick out even the most menial or nonexistent “flaws” from the people who challenge them “Faygeleh is for gay males only” and “I see you are learning Hebrew AND YET you still dare to criticize the state, hmm curious” so infuriating honestly.

But the worst thing of all is their endless conspiracies and their dogged assumptions that hold no basis in fact, them literally “Theorizing” about your synagogue being a JVP meeting place like KNOW YOU is simply one of the worst examples of this that I have ever seen up to this point, at least that other account they referenced did the only slightly less infuriating cookie cutter “Fake Jew doesn’t support the fatherland, fake Jews is not a patriot, fake Jew is pretending to be Jewish” spiel, at least I’ve seen that one so many times that I’m growing numb to the constant accusations.

These conspiratorial ramblings are all so completely anti-intellectual that it makes me sick to my stomach, and the worst part is that this is almost everything that I see on Jumblr, there’s almost no diversity in opinion, not a single attempt at any kind of nuance (While still constantly claiming nuance when it suits their agendas), it’s all entirely irrational at its core and it’s all anyone ever makes posts about.

I always celebrate to myself when I find an account that is about something else, either one like yours, or one dedicated entirely to just cool Jewish stuff like art, culture, and history, but those seem to be so few and far between these days, it’s all just about antisemitism or Zionism or the state, you’d think these people didn’t care about anything else, like do these people even enjoy being Jewish? At all? Because from the legacies they’re leaving via their internet footprints it would seem that to them being a Jew is more of a curse than anything and it makes me so, so sad.

Apologies for the long rant, but this one really was one of the worst I’ve seen in a while. I’m not even going anon this time, I’m so tired of cowering in the shadow of Zionism and all its religious extremism.

i know exactly the post and i had my own similar reaction because it’s all such cowardly baseless takes they’re making. i have nothing to add here, you’ve perfectly summarized all of my feelings on and about zionist jumblr.

thank you for this message, it is so so uplifting to know and hear there are other people out there reading the shit these people are saying and also thinking they’re being deranged. it’s such a harmful echo chamber they’re in that sometimes i start to wonder if i really AM alone in this because they say it so much. but as long as i’m here and alive and joyfully jewish, there will be a contesting voice.

[buckyshoneybunny]

Friendsgiving

College!Quarterback!Bucky Barnes + Curvy!College!Reader 

Summery- You and Bucky explore your new relationship while you and the gang celebrate Thanksgiving. 

W.C.- 4221 

Warnings- Smut, oral (fem), fingering, unprotected sex 

A/N- I am so so sorry this is late. I’ve been stressed and I didn’t know how I wanted to do this. But I keep it sweet with no drama, for now anyway, the next one will have lots of drama lol. I do hope you enjoy this. Home For Christmas will be long since it’s going to have a lot in it. But that one and the one for new years might be late and I apologize in advance for that. Anyway enjoy and see you next time my loves! (The picture of the kitchen is mine) (not proofread)

Taglist-  @calwitch @winterslove1917 @hi172826

Masterlist           Series Masterlist   

“He’s doing it again,” Sam snickers. 

“Doing what?” Steve hums. 

“Looking at her with those love sick puppy eyes.”  

Steve looks up from where he was fiddling with the lights for the back patio to see you and Bucky cuddled on the couch. Bucky had a small smile on his face as he watched you ramble on about this new book you were reading.  

“Give him a break, he’s happy.” Steve set the lights back in the box. Since you and Bucky had started dating the guys had been coming over more often, spending the nights too. You didn’t mind though; you had the room and if anything, it felt nice to have a full house. It made it feel more like home in a way.  

Sam looks back over to you and Bucky. He smirks, knowing damn good and well Bucky has no idea what you’re saying. He's too captivated by the way you look and the joy on your face to pay attention to the plot of your book. 

You and Bucky had been together almost two weeks now, when you had told the others they seemed happy and relieved. No more tip toeing around and no more arguing.  

You had laughed as a grumpy Steve handed $20 to a very happy Sam. Bucky grumbled and smacked Sam’s arm. Steve had bet Bucky would be the one to confess while Sam bet you would be the one to break first. 

Now even though you haven’t been together long, you were enjoying seeing this new side of Bucky. You were learning new things about him and seeing the side of him he didn’t even show Steve.  

You found out his favorite books were The Hobbit and Lord of The Rings. He loved to watch older movies; he was a big nerd when it came to anything space or scientific related. And what surprised you the most was he knew the answer to just about every history question you could think of. 

Bucky was also learning new things about you. How you procrastinated until the last second and somehow whatever you were working on always came out amazing. How good you were at drawing; how creative your mind was when it came to writing stories. He just about fell out of his chair when you told him you knew how to change the oil and tires on a car. 

You both were taking it one step at a time, exploring the unfamiliar grounds of this new relationship.  

Steve and Sam walk over and join you on the couch. Steve sits next to you while Sam sits next to him. 

“You know he has absolutely no idea what you’re saying, right?” Sam chuckles. Steve elbows him. 

“Yes, he does, right Bucky? Bucky?” You wave a hand in front of his face. “James,” you sigh. 

Bucky blinks his eyes, refocusing them. “Hmm?” 

“Seriously Bucky?” You scoff a laugh. 

“I’m sorry, princess. You're just so cute when you’re excited,” he smiles.  

You blush and hide your face while Steve and Nat coo. Sam and Yelena make gagging faces, those two like two peas in a pod.  

“Since Thanksgiving is in a couple of days shouldn’t we go food shopping tomorrow?” Steve asks. 

“Me and you can go after we get back from the fall festival tomorrow,” you answer. 

“Fall festival?” Sam asks, disinterest clear in his voice. 

“Yeah,” Natasha nods. “We’re going to the Barton farm; they’re having a fall festival.” 

“I thought we already went to a festival there?” Sam groans. 

“We did, but that was for Halloween. They have three festivals every year, one for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.”  

“Well, have fun, cause I’m sitting this out.”  

“You’re going,” Yelena says sternly. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“Please?” Yelena sticks her bottom lip out in a pout and gives him her puppy eyes. 

“Fine,” Sam grumbles. He rolls his eyes when everyone laughs. It had been Yelena’s idea to go, there was a certain someone she wanted to see.  

A little while later you and Bucky lay in your bed rewatching a show you’ve seen a thousand times on your computer. You were just starting to doze off when he speaks up. 

“You didn’t go to the Halloween festival,” he says softly. His bushy eyebrows set in a frown.  

“What?” You yawn, blinking your eyes repeatedly and doing your best to keep them open.  

“The Halloween festival, you didn’t go.” Bucky closes the laptop and sets it on the nightstand.  

“No, I didn’t,” you sigh and snuggle into Bucky’s side. That same stuffed dog squished between you both. 

“Why? Was it because of me?” He whispers.  

You let out a small laugh. “No, I didn’t feel good that night, nor did I want to get dragged to the haunted house. I hate scary things.” 

“Oh, okay.” Bucky pulls you impossibly closer. “Goodnight princess,” he kisses your forehead.  

“Goodnight Bucky.”  

The next morning the six of you get ready for the festival. You and Bucky are the last ones to be ready, Bucky having gotten a little handsy while you were in the shower together.  

You wore snug blue jeans that hugged your thighs and ass. A silk tank top-one that accented your curves and made Bucky’s mouth water-under a long-sleeved shirt. You then stole one of Bucky’s jackets to wear, claiming it would keep you warmer, it went down to about mid-thigh on you. Bucky helped you put your boots on and laced them. You slid on some gloves while Bucky wrapped a scarf around your neck and slid beanie on your head.  

Though you were covered up, Bucky’s mouth still watered at the sight of you. He didn’t understand how someone could look so adorable yet sexy at the same time. 

Bucky, Steve, and Sam all wore jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and jackets. You practically had to force Bucky to wear gloves and a hat. And while he looked like a three-course meal you’d never understand how he could wear so little layers in this freezing weather. Some people just don’t get cold.  

Steve, Natasha, and Yelena took Steve’s car while you, Bucky, and Sam took Bucky’s car. Once you got there you pulled Natasha aside. 

“You know you’re gonna have to help her, right?” You say quietly, watching Yelena fix her outfit. 

“Don’t worry, babes. I’ve already got a plan,” Natasha smirks. You can see the sparkle of mischief in her eyes. 

You arch a brow. “And what kind of plan would that be?” 

“All you need to know is by the end of the day, Kate and Lena will be a couple.” You laugh and shake your head. 

Natasha links her arm with Yelena’s and drags her off in the direction of the face painting station, the one Kate Bishop was currently working. Sam tags along, eager to see what mischief plan Nat has.  

You and Bucky walk hand in hand through the festival, Steve on the other side of you. The three of you making your way to where they keep their homemade goodies.  

“If Nat’s plan goes well, Sam will be the only single person left in the group,” You wonder aloud.  

“Hmph,” Bucky hums. He couldn’t care less.  

“We should set him up,” You suggest.  

“You know, Sam has had his eye on someone for a while now,” Steve speaks up. 

“Who?” You ask a little to excitingly.  

Steve chuckles. “Lila Taylor? Lina Taylor, something like that.” 

“Leila Taylor?”  

“Yeah that.”  

“Wait, isn’t she on the college’s reporter team?”  

Steve nods. “Yeah, she also supports a lot of activist movements and stuff.” 

“Oh cool,” You smile. “I’ll circle back with the girls to come up with a plan and then coordinate with you.”  

“Hold up,” Bucky interjects. “You really think it’s a good idea to go snooping around in Sam’s love life?” 

“Hey! It’s not snooping,” You argue. “It’s more like giving him a little nudge in the right direction.” 

“Well, whatever it is, I want nothing to do with it. Cause if this blows up, it won’t be pretty.” You just roll your eyes.  

You and Steve pick out some jams and spices to use in Thanksgiving dinner before heading off to the face painting booth. There's not much of a line so you wait, looking for Nat, Yelena, Sam, and Kate. When it’s you guys’ turn, you walk up to see Cassie Lang running the station.  

“Hey Cassie,” You smile. “Where’s Kate and Lena?” 

She points behind her. “Back behind the station.” 

“Good for them,” You laugh. You get a bunny painted on your face, Bucky gets a cat, and Steve gets a dog.  

You thank Cassie and Steve heads off to find Nat and Sam, telling you to meet up at the hayride line. Bucky keeps his arm around your shoulders as you walk. You relax and lean into him, letting him guide you. 

It almost doesn’t feel real, being here with him. It's almost like a dream come true; one you never knew you had. You cherish the feeling of being in his arms, the comfort and warmth it brings.  

You, Bucky, Sam, Steve, and Nat meet up by the hayrides. Even Yelena and Kate tag along too. While you wait you make small talk and get to know Kate a bit. You learn that she’s mastered in archery and is taking an engineer course. You could see Yelena relax a little when she seen how well Kate got along with everyone. 

During the hayride, Bucky’s gaze kept drifting back to you. His heart fluttered as he watched you, the way your eyes shine in the sunlight. How your nose scrunched just like his when you laugh and smile. 

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer. He buried his nose in your hair, closing his eyes as your peach scented shampoo filled his nose.  

From the moment he met you, something told him you were different. That feeling was just pushed back and blinded by a false sense of hate. One thing he knew for sure, even if this was just the start of the relationship, was that something was different.  

None of his previous relationships had ever felt this, what’s the word? Special. He just wishes you and him would have come to terms sooner. But later is better than never.  

You guys spend most of the rest of the day doing various activities. Just laughing and having fun, spending time with one another. A lot of people argue over what family is, whether it’s being blood related. Or just knowing someone for a long time, always being there for them and having their back.  

Whichever it may be, you knew this was the family that you would ever need. And while your heart does ache for the family you grew up with, you’d never felt more loved than you do with this family. Right here, right now.  

Before it got too late you guys called it quits. You and Steve headed to the store while the others headed home. You giggled at the sad puppy eyes Yelena had when she had to say goodbye to Kate.  

You and Steve browse the aisles, grabbing ingredients and checking them off the list. You're almost done when you pass the area they keep the turkeys, except, they’re out.  

“Crap, Y/n,” Steve sighs. He looks at the empty display that was once filled with Turkeys of all sizes. “What are we going to do?” 

You grin. “You know how they say women are smarter than men?” You snicker. 

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with the fact we won’t have a turkey for thanksgiving?” 

“Me and Nat picked one up last week, Steve,” you laugh.  

“Oh” 

“Oh!” You gasp. “So, I have a request to make,” you bite your lip. 

“What’s that?” 

“So, you’re cooking the turkey this year, right?” Steve nods and you continue. “Well, I was wondering if maybe we could smoke the turkey on the grill?” 

Steve pauses, considering the idea. “That actually doesn’t sound too bad,” he hums. 

“Right? I mean, any other dish we cook on the grill tastes amazing, so why not try it with the turkey?” 

“Yeah,” he nods. “I think that’s a good idea. So that’s what we’ll do then.”  

Once you have everything, you pay and pile everything in the trunk of the car and head home. Sam and Bucky help bring the groceries inside when you get home, you and Nat put them away.  

Since everyone was tired from the fun filled day and no one wanting to cook and clean the already prepped kitchen. You guys just decided to order some pizza. The TV is playing some cooking show, one that was actually decent.  

Sam and Yelena sat on the floor between the coffee table and couch, munching on the pizza. You and Bucky sat on one end of the couch, squeezed together under one blanket. Steve and Nat sat at the other end, hogging the bigger blanket.  

“So, what all are we having tomorrow?” Sam asks around a mouth full of pizza. Natasha nudges Sam’s shoulder with her foot, playfully scolding him about not talking with a mouth full of food.  

“Well, we’re gonna have turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, Nat will make her mac & cheese,” you list the dishes out. “Probably some corn too.” 

“What about homemade bread?” Yelena asks. 

“Absolutely,” you smile. 

“You make homemade bread?” Bucky asks, surprised. You nod. “Since when?” 

“Since I was like, 15 or 16?” You shrug. He hums and pulls you closer. 

“Oh, by the way, I invited Kate to come over after. If that’s okay?” Yelena says. 

You nod. “That’s fine, I invited Wanda.” 

“I invited Clint, too,” Nat adds.  

You, Bucky, Steve, and Nat head to bed early since you have to get an early start on cooking tomorrow. 

The alarm on your phone goes off at five in the morning, jolting you awake. Bucky groans and shuts the alarm off, tightening his arms around your waist. 

“I gotta get up, baby,” you whisper. You card your fingers through his hair. 

He buries his face in your neck. “No,” he mumbles, voice muffled.  

You smile softly. “Yes.” When he doesn’t let you go, you pinch his shoulder.  

Bucky grumbles and let's go. “You’re mean,” he pouts. 

You press a quick kiss to his lips. “Here,” you hand him your stuffed dog. “Fido will keep you company.” Bucky smacks the dog away, making you gasp. 

“How dare you!” You pick him up and coddle him to your chest. “It’s okay, I got you.” You kiss its head. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Are you really talking to a stuffed animal?” He asks in that deep, sexy morning voice of his.  

You hug the dog closer to your chest. “Don’t listen to him, he’s a big meanie,” you mumble against its fur. Bucky raises a brow. “You up set him, now you have to give him a kiss.” 

“I’m not kissing a stuffed animal, Y/n,” he huffs. 

“What’s that? He has to give you cuddles?” Bucky shakes his head. “Now, James,” you say, trying and failing to sound stern. 

He rolls his eyes again but takes the stuffed dog. He cuddles the dog and gives it a kiss. “Happy now?” You can see the hint of a smile on his face. You nod.  

You quickly use the bathroom, brush your teeth and pull your hair back. You quietly head back to your bedroom to grab your phone and meds. You have to cover your mouth with your head to keep from laughing. 

Bucky had already fallen back to sleep, but he was holding you stuff dog like it was his lifeline. You figured he’d chuck it once you left, but he didn’t. You snap a picture and head downstairs. You see Steve in the kitchen and a lump under a blanket on the couch. Sam.  

“Morning Steve,” you say quietly.  

“Morning Y/n,” he whispers with a smile. 

“Look at this,” you giggle. You show Steve the picture of Bucky to which he laughs. You hear Sam grumble something about being quiet. 

“You should have gone to bed sooner,” you snicker. Sam stuck his arm out from under the blanket, flipping you off.  

You get started on the bread while Steve fires up the grill. You both work in harmony to get things started and prepped.  

Around 8, Sam decided to give up on trying to sleep in. He made himself a bowl of cereal and plopped on the couch to watch some cartoons. By 8:30, Bucky had sauntered down the stairs and immediately plastered himself to your back. 

“Morning princess,” he mumbles into your neck. He presses a kiss there.  

“Morning Bucky,” you smile.  

After about five minutes of him hanging on you, you make him get off. He pouts but lets you go, grabbing a bowl of cereal and joining Sam on the couch to watch cartoons.  

By 9, Nat and Yelena had come down. Yelena joining the boys and Nat helping out in the kitchen. At 11, you and Nat force the three stooges to get ready and clean up. Slowly but surely, you, Nat, and Steve get ready.  

Bucky and Yelena keep up on dishes, so you aren’t running the dishwasher ten different times today. Bucky washes them while Yelena dries and puts them away. You and Yelena set the table, Bucky and Sam had cleaned up the living room by then. And finally, by 1, the table was being filled with food.  

Steve had cooked the turkey and while that was cooking, he did the gravy, mashed potatoes, and stuffing. Nat cooked her homemade mac & cheese and some corn. You had cooked the homemade rolls that, in Sam’s words, were to die for. You had also made some fudge and a pumpkin pie.  

Finally, once everyone sat down, Steve and Nat on one side, you and Bucky on the other, Sam at one end, Yelena at the other. The wine was poured and Steve said grace. Steve cut the turkey and everyone filled up their plates with food.  

While you ate, Bucky rested his hand on your thigh. After a while it started to slide up, his pinky toying with the hem of the long-sleeved dress you wore. He didn’t move it much more than that, just wanting to tease you.  

By the time everyone finished, Kate, Wanda, and Clint had shown up. They were just in time for dessert. You and Kate had fudge while everyone else had pie. After a little more pie and wine, everyone moved to the living room to hang out, leaving you and Steve to clean up the mess.  

You put the food away and loaded the first load of dishes in the dishwasher. Steve threw napkins and various things away, sweeping the crumbs up and taking the trash out. Steve went to join the others while you finished wiping the counters.  

When you finished you headed to the living room, pausing in the archway. Steve and Nat were cuddled on the couch under a blanket, watching a Christmas movie. Clint, Kate, and Wanda were playing some board game. Yelena and Sam were building a Castle out of Legos.  

You smiled. This was your family. This was your home.  

Your smile widened when you felt two arms wrap around your waist. 

“Hey,” you say, your voice soft.  

“You did a good job on the bread and pie,” Bucky says. He starts to kiss your neck. You tilt your head and relax against him.  

“Thanks,” you bite your lip. “Since everyone is preoccupied, what do you wanna do?”  

He hums and slides his hands to your waist, spinning you around. “I think I want some dessert.” You can hear the lust in his voice.  

“Didn’t you already have dessert?” You giggle, knowing full well that’s not what he’s talking about.  

“Not that kind of dessert princess, this one’s more...sweet.” He runs his nose up your neck to nibble on your ear.  

“I don’t know, that pie was pretty sweet.” 

He huffs and tosses you over his shoulder, making you giggle. You playfully grope his ass as he walks, he really did have a nice ass. He kicks your bedroom door shut with his foot and tosses you on the bed.  

Bucky kneels on the bed between your thighs, pushing the loose skirt of you dress up around your waist. He spreads your legs and rips your panties, growl coming from him when he sees you’re already wet. 

“You have got to stop ripping my panties! I’m gonna run out soon.” Your laugh turns into a gasp when he runs his thumb over your clit.  

“Sorry princess,” he mumbles absentmindedly, eyes focused on your pussy.  

“No, you’re not.” 

“No, I’m not,” he agrees with a smirk. He leans down, laying on his stomach between your legs, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.  

He makes his way up one thigh before switching to the other, causing you to huff. He presses one last kiss to your thigh before hovering his lips over your pussy. He blows on your pussy, causing you to shudder. He chuckles and runs his tongue through your folds up to your clit. 

You gasp and thread your fingers through his hair. He eats you out like a man starved, like this is his first meal in days. He sucks on your clit, making your hips buck. He throws his metal arm over your hips to keep them still. 

He runs his tongue down to your slit, sucking up your juices. He starts to fuck you with his tongue, he thrusts it in and out. His two-day old stubble rubs against the skin around your pussy, making you close your thighs around his head. 

He brings two fingers to your entrance, thrusting them in and curling them in that way that has you seeing stars. He adds a third one, fucking you with his fingers, his mouth back to sucking on your clit.  

He moans against your pussy, the vibrations running through you and bringing you that much closer to the edge. Your fingers tighten in his hair. With one last curl of his fingers, you cum, moaning his name. 

He helps you ride it out, lapping up your juices. He gives your clit one last kiss before sitting up. He pulls your dress over your head and throws it behind him, he flings your bra in the same direction.  

He pulls his shirt over his head and you run your hands over his abs. You don’t think you’d ever get tired of seeing this man naked. Once his pants are off, he covers you with his body, lips latching onto one of your nipples, his metal hand squeezing and pinching the other one. 

You reach down and grab his cock, stroking him a couple of times and making his hips buck. You run his tip through your folds and line him up.  

“Ready princess?” He pants. You nod. 

He slowly pushes in, burying himself all the way in with one thrust. He laces his fingers with yours and pins your hands above your head. You wrap your legs around his waist.  

When you give him the okay, he pulls out and thrusts back in, starting a slow pace. He buries his face in your neck, sucking and biting, leaving his mark on you. 

His pace starts to pick up, your moans and whimpers like music to his ears. Soon enough he’s pounding you into the bed. Skin slapping against skin fills the room, the air smelling of sex. You bite your lip to keep from moaning too loud, knowing your friends are still right downstairs. 

“Let them hear,” he pants into your neck. “Let them hear I good I can fuck you.” he angles his hips to hit that special spot, making you cry out. “There you go,” he grins. 

Each thrust hits that spot, bringing you closer and closer. The patch of hair above his cock rubs against your clit, adding to your pleasure. Bucky can feel you squeezing him, he knows your close.  

“Come on, princess, cum for me. Be a good girl and cum.” That all you need, the band in your stomach snapping and stars blurring your vision. Your back arches and you moan his name, probably a little too loud.  

Bucky fucks you through it before his thrust grow sloppy and he’s cumming inside you with a groan of your name on his lips.  

He collapses on top of you, panting and still feeling the after effects of his orgasm. You rub his back and run your fingers through his hair as you both catch your breath. He makes a contented sound and nuzzles his face into your chest. 

After a few moments of silence his phone vibrates on the nightstand, indicating a text message. 

He carefully pulls out and rolls over to grab his phone. He makes a ‘hmm’ sound before setting it down and pulling you back into his arms, spooning you from behind, ready for a nap. 

“Who was that?” You ask softly. 

“My mom,” he mumbles into your hair. 

“Oh..is everything okay?” 

“She wants us to come home for Christmas.” 

[2knightt]

CANT HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER!!! i’m utterly obsessed with the curtis brothers.

idk if u do this, but if u can, the curtis brothers with a reader who’s super down bad for them? they make it so clear, too. constantly doing everything for them, making food, buying snacks, just utterly everything. compliments, holding their hand religiously … yk.

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ you know i’m a fool for you. ⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! you think the curtis brothers are the only men on the planet.

tags/warnings: swearing(on my end/once during dialogue.) reader being slightly overprotective or insane, mentions of reader getting hit on, mentions of reader leaving lip stick stains, me not knowing what to write for darry.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m using ny other accounts layout bc i can’t be bothered rn. also i’m here to feed y’all i’ve noticed the outsiders x reader tag is lowkey dry asl.

Ponyboy Curtis:

WOAH HE CAN’T HANDLE ALLAT😭

like actually. he is TWEAKING AT ALL TIMES! when you first like started complimenting him, showering him in kisses, giggling n’ shit—he thought it was a one time thing.

ponyboy just thought he’d have to thug that shit out once a week or something. he was, in-fact, pleasantly surprised when you continued to do it.

“you’re so-mwah-cute! i wish-mwah-i could-mwah-hold you forever!”

“y/n…😣”

he’s so flustered omfg like actually he’s beet red LMFAOOO. if you were to put your fingers to his forehead it’d be so hot. like ponyboy’s avoiding eye contact, his lips are tightened, etc.

if he were to stay the night at your place—you make him all types of food. like, food he’d never heard of. or food he’d dream about after eating bologna for a week,

“for me? …really?”

“mhm! c’mon, don’t let it get cold now.”

ponyboy is DIGGING RIGHT THE FUCK IN. okay he is SCARFING THAT DOWN. after he’d be a little embarrassed of how quickly he ate but like you just took it as a good thing.

thinks you’re the best cook ever tbh. gordan ramsey has nothing on you type levels.

going on a walk with him to go grocery shopping for the curtis house with your hands intertwined and letting ponyboy ramble about this annoying substitute he had!!! IT’S REAL!!! ALL OF IT!!!

“n’ then he tried to tell me my answer was wrong when i studied last night—I EVEN ASKED MY FRIENDS. so, i know it was right. i just think mr. johnson had a personal vendetta against me.”

“smh…i could do slash his tires if you’d like♡!”

“what”

“nothing.”

AWHHH PONYBOY FOLLOWING YOU AROUND THE STORE LIKE A LOST PUPPY BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO BUY LMFAO

he’d like holding your sleeve or the hem of your shirt as you walk around, looking more awkward above all else.

uwahh showering ponyboy in compliments late at night when it’s just the two of you, twirling his hair as you hold him closer!!!

“you’re hair is so pretty. it’s so soft…i dunno why you put grease in it. if i was you—i’d never let anyone touch it.”

“i don’t. i only let you.”

“…REALLY??🥰🥰😚😚”

ur friends are soooo sick of you talking about ponyboy LMFAOOOO like actually. every time you go, ‘omfg did i tell you guys, he-‘ they know to just let you mindlessly ramble.

“and then ponyboy read to me ‘til i fell asleep! he’s so sweet—i dunno how he’s real!”

“i dunno how you’re so whipped.”

“he must be the funniest motherfucker on the planet if y/n’s this obsessed.”

Sodapop Curtis

OHHH Y’ALL ARE AT A CONSTANT WAR TO SEE WHO’S GONNA BEAT THE OTHER AT BEING THE BETTER PARTNER LMFAOOO

HE’S usually the whipped one in the relationship…he felt both extremely lucky and threatened when you started attacking him with kisses…

“you’re so handsome. i’m just the luckiest person on earth—ain’t i?”

“…yeah…🤨”

“why’d you say it like that?😞”

“cause I’M the luckiest person on the earth…I’M supposed to be tellin’ you this…”

but as time goes on—he does take the loss and accepts you’re better at him. for now. it’s only a matter of seconds until sodapop thinks of something insane to show his love for you.

anyways! IMAGINE COOKING WITH HIM OHHHH NY GODDDDD /?:&$:&: he just mainly stands there and looks pretty as he asks what you’re doing but SHHH. HE’S MORAL SUPPORT.

“…what?”

“i’m chopping onions for the flavour, honey.”

“you don’t like onions, though?”

“i don’t like the crunch rather than the flavou—YOU REMEMBERED I DON’T LIKE ONIONS??☹️☹️”

“of course i would!”

gladly holds ur hand 24/7. i’m not kidding. you two are like super magnets. HEHEHE IMAGINE HIM DRIVING WITH ONE HAND ON THE WHEEL AND HIS OTHER HAND HOLDING YOURS!!/!2!

you do take him grocery shopping. only sometimes, though. he only buys junk food rather than actual food.

“can i get these? please?”

“you already have two bags of chips in the cart, soda.”

“okay..😣”

“SIGH…get them.”

“HURRAY!”

knows you can’t say no to him and that’s like the only time he uses it to his advantage.

soc’s do hit on you under the premise of ‘showing you how a real man is supposed to spoil a lady like you.’ HOWEVER, you look at them like they’re aliens.

“hey, baby. what’re you doin’ around here?”

“…EW.”

“???”

they’re shocked above all else as they see you turn away from them and quickly walk away without looking back. AND WOOO SODA IS SO PROUD.

Darry Curtis

the gang acts like you two are constantly fighting whenever you start to look at darry with that sparkle in your eyes.

“guys, PLEASE! YOU’RE BREAKING UP THE FAMILY! STOP ARGUING!”

“what the hell are you on about, soda?”

“you’re scaring pony!” “don’t bring me into this.”

“mind you’re own business, soda.”

AJDIEHJR DARRY HAVING A HAND AROUND YOUR WAIST AS YOU MUTTER SWEET NOTHINGS BETWEEN KISSINGS>>>

you two are a POWER COUPLE IN THE GROCERY STORE! EVEN IF YOU REFUSE TO LET HIM PAY AND HE GETS POUTTY! EVEN IF HE DOESN’T TAKE COMPLIMENTS WELL!

“y/n, please. these are for my house.”

“so?? my wallet was out first.”

“that doesn’t mean anything. baby, i’m telling you, i’m paying.”

“too late, i already handed the cashier the money.”

you cook and clean for the curtis’ to take something off of darry’s back out of the kindness in your heart and totally not because you want him to pay more attention to you!! NEVER!!

but you do enjoy the fact that darry has more time to sit down and pay attention to you! and darry really likes the extra time he has!!

“you didn’t have to.”

“yes i did! you’ve been so stressed out, it’s the least i could do for you.”

“you’re such a treat, y’know.”

“mh. only f’you.”

you FORCE him to hold your hand. sometimes he forgets that he’s supposed to hold your hand in public so do NOT BE AFRAID TO GRAB IT YOURSELF.

but once you do, darry is the last person to let go. maybe to wrap an arm around your hip—BUT THAT’S IT.

teehee leaving lipstick stains on his white t-shirt accidentally🫶🫶!! it’s all so real to me!! sure, darry’s a little annoyed but it’s okay! he can never be mad at you!

[twistersobsessed]

hiii it's bracelet anon again with another thought that's been bouncing around in my head:) hopefully it's distinctive enough from my other request since it still revolves around giving scott stuff

i was thinking that scott is really susceptible to holding anything given to him while his attention is elsewhere, like tapping away on the tablet or talking on the phone, and reader picks up on this. so it turns into a little prank amongst the team that they're constantly handing scott things to see how long until he notices. after a while they start to notice that while he usually discards whatever he was given by other team members, he pockets what reader gives to him. so he ends up with a collection of random things reader has found on the side of the road; small bones, pretty pebbles, buttons, little toys that got flung out of car windows, coins, wildflowers, etc.

thank you for listening to my ramblings<3

Like Penguins | Scott x Reader

A/N: Combined two requests.

Javi started it. He handed Scott his sunglasses to hold while he was tying his shoe. Scott took them without even looking up from the tablet he was working on.

It became a little game amongst the rest of the team, one centered around handing Scott random things to see what he’d take without question.

Today was one of those days where you were all playing the game. James handed Scott an empty soda can. It took Scott ten minutes to notice what he was holding and throw it out. Matt handed Scott a rock. It took Scott fifteen minutes to notice and discard it.

Then it was your turn. You’d found a sick coin on the side of the road earlier. You handed it to Scott and like the others, he didn’t even look at you as he took what you were offering.

It took five minutes for Scott to notice what he was holding. He held it up and to everyone’s shock, smiled, just a little bit. Then he tucked the coin into his pocket.

After that, the experiment changed. It turned into everyone urging you to keep handing Scott things. So you did. It was mostly pretty and cool rocks you’d found, but sometimes it was other things like coins or flowers.

He kept every single thing you gave him.

The team was loving throwing out theories about why. But the consensus was clear; Scott had a soft spot for you.

You almost never rode with Scott. So you were pretty excited when Javi told you you’d be riding with Scott today. Scott was stoically quiet as he drove, only seeming to pay attention to you when you started going through the center console.

You were surprised to find all the rocks and coins and flowers and other little knick knacks that you’d handed him over the last few weeks.

“Snooping is rude,” Scott’s stern voice broke through your surprise.

“You kept it all,” you said quietly.

Scott was embarrassed, refusing to look at you and keeping his eyes glued to the road. “Well, yeah,” he said, like it was obvious. “You gave them to me.”

“Scott…” you reached over the console to place your hand on his arm. Scott swore his brain short-circuited for a moment when you touched him. “Did you know penguins court each other by bringing each other pretty pebbles they find?”

Scott blinked. “I vaguely remember hearing something like that,” he replied.

“So…” you hummed, waiting for him to put it together.

“So… oh. Oh.” He looked at you with wide eyes. You couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.

“Well,” he began. “I’m not a penguin. So I’m just going to ask you out on a proper date.”

“Oh?” You grinned.

“(Name), would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Fuck yeah.”

————————————————————————

Scott drove you into the town of El Reno that weekend to go to a nice restaurant. You wore a pretty, short sun dress that you never got a chance to wear. Scott actually got red in the face when he saw you. It was off the shoulders too, Scott swore his mouth watered.

Scott had made reservations and everything. You noticed at the table once you were seated that he was nervously flipping a coin through his fingers. A coin you had given him.

You reached across the table and placed your hand gently on top of his forearm. “Thank you so much for taking me out, Scott.”

Scott smiled, his fingers slowing. “You deserve it,” he replied simply. The hand that had been playing with the coin tucked it back into his pocket before covering your hand that was on his arm. His hand was so big and warm and completely engulfed your hand. You blushed. “You’re red,” Scott commented with a small smile.

The moment was interrupted by the waitress, who couldn’t stop giving Scott bedroom eyes. It was irritating you. “What can I get for you guys?”

You and Scott pulled apart and looked at your menus. Scott ordered first, the waitress obviously flirting as she complimented his choice and called him “hun.” When she turned to you she lost all cheerful niceness and flatly asked, “And you?”

You grit your teeth and ordered, not adding your usual “thank you.” You only relaxed when the waitress walked away. “Are you okay?” Scott asked, brow furrowed. “You got really tense.” You avoided his eyes. “‘M fine.”

Scott reached across the table and opened his hand. You took his hand, your hand being engulfed once more. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand. “What’s wrong?”

“The waitress is just flirting with you really obviously right in front of me. I’m trying not to let it effect my mood, I’m sorry,” you muttered.

Scott squeezed your hand and you looked up at him. His beautiful blue eyes were intently trained on you. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I didn’t even notice she was flirting, I’m sorry.”

“Just watch how she treats you compared to me,” you whispered as the waitress approached, bringing your drinks. “Here you go, honey,” she cooed at Scott, placing his beer in front of him. Then she placed your glass in front of you without even looking away from Scott. “Can I get you anything else?” She asked Scott, completely ignoring you.

Scott looked pointedly at you. “I don’t know, do you want anything else, baby?” He casually dropped the pet name. The waitress finally looked at you with barely concealed disdain. She gave you a fake smile while she waited for your answer. “No,” you said, addressing Scott and not the waitress. “I’m good, honey, thank you.”

The waitress scowled and left.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Scott looked surprised. “For what?”

“For putting a stop to it.”

Scott chuckled. “Yeah, someone’s not getting a good tip.”

The rest of your dinner went smoothly and that waitress didn’t come back. A different waiter delivered the check. “Let me see.” You reached across the table to try and grab the bill but Scott snatched it away from you. “I’m paying so there’s no need for that.”

You tried to argue but Scott wasn’t having any of it. “This is a date,” he assured you. “I took you out. I pay for dinner.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

Scott offered you his hand as you walked out of the restaurant. You took it, feeling nervous like a school girl around her crush.

The conversation on the ride home was casual and relaxed. You couldn’t help but notice how sexy Scott looked driving.

You pulled into the parking lot of the motel Storm Par was staying at for the night. Scott got out first and as you fumbled with your purse, he opened your car door for you. You weren’t used to this princess treatment.

Scott walked you to your room, and you both stopped outside your door. You looked up at Scott with a shy smile. Scott’s eyes didn’t meet yours though. They were trained a little bit lower. In turn, you dropped your gaze to his lips.

Scott put a hand on the side of your face and leaned down, practically bending over to press his lips to yours. The kiss was short and sweet and left you wanting way more.

“I hope you had fun,” Scott said, sounding unsure for the first time since you’d met him.

“I really did,” you assured him eagerly. “Thank you for taking me out.”

Scott just smiled. “Goodnight, (Name).”

“Goodnight, Scott.”

[wrathofrats]

Caged and always provoked (By prey left unattended)

4k, explicit, Dewdrop/Rain/Aether

Merry Christmas freak @divine-misfortune ily and I hope that all the insanity I’ve been talking about for weeks now makes sense

Read under the cut or on ao3

Warnings and tags: medical examination, medfet, trans rain and tits cunt clit and all the other stuff used for his anatomy, gill fingering, virgin rain for religious reasons, a lot of religious fuckery, groping, breast exams, dew and aether are awful medical practitioners ok, pretty dubious consent but rains cool with everything and says that, it’s fuckery ok it’s 4k of fuckery and I’ve warned you

“We have to, we can’t just let you-“ Dew rambled. He set his clipboard down with a frustrated sigh before Rain interrupted him.

“I don’t have sex.”

Aether peeked his head up from his own sheet about reviewing Dew to look down over his glasses at Rain. Sure, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, and certainly not abnormal, but considering Rain was a ghoul Aether wasn’t sure if he fully believed him.

“You’re saying that you’re a virgin?” Aether asked, before looking back over at Dew.

Or rains summoned as a virgin for his papa and his doctors want to see how far they can push him

“He seems easy enough. Could’ve sicked that new multi on you, looked like a handful” Aether slid the chart over to Dew who was pulling at his scrub top. The name Rain was scrawled at the top along with his summoning date and element. The rest of the spots were blank, meant to be filled in at his first appointment.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?” Dew clicked the pen a couple of times, scribbling in the corner of the paper to test the ink.

“Actually now that you mention it, I probably should’ve let you take him since you were such a menace for us when you were summoned. It took 3-“

“2” Dew interrupted with a scoff

“2 nurses to hold you down. You’re lucky I picked the quiet one for you.” Aether flipped open his own packet of paper meant for his notes on how Dew was doing. He wanted to train to be a nurse, a better and more meaningful job for him as he learned to use his new fire element. This would occupy him for the time being, and keep him useful considering they were down some staff as the siblings were taken for other clergy needs.

Dew rolled his eyes, plopping the clipboard onto the small table haphazardly. He didn’t know what time this ghoul was supposed to show up, barely even caught a glimpse of him during the summoning. Usually the new ghouls were thrown into the arms of those who were more trustworthy, such as Aether and omega, before being whisked away to check in on their new bodies and elements top side. The rest of the pack usually didn’t get to meet them until there was an all clear from the medical staff.

Which, now included Dew. He loved messing with new summons when he got the chance. Mountain was easy to lure right into his bed, teasing the poor guy until he just couldn’t stand it. And now being placed at the front lines? Even with Aether keeping a close eye on him, he had to admit the idea of thoroughly checking up and down this new summons body was tantalizing.

“You know what to do right?” Aether snapped Dew out of his thoughts with the throw of a tongue depressor that hit him in the shoulder.

“Got the check list, besides you’ll be here to remind me. Even if you gave me a very detailed lesson the other ni-“ Dew snickered before another tongue depressor whizzed past his head.

“You’ll treat him with respect Dew” Aether closed the glass jar and pushed it away from him. He crossed his leg in front of him, staring at his watch to check the time.

“Whatever, I’m a professional, remember?”

“Yeah a professional idiot maybe”

Dew barely got through his eye roll as the door knob turned. A sibling opened the door, gesturing for the ghoul in front of her to walk in the room. He was shy, keeping his head down as he sat down in one of the chairs by the exam bed.

“This is Rain, already got him checked in” the sibling handed Aether a couple papers before closing the door with a soft click. Aether was right, the new thing was quiet. Easy, if he really wanted to go that far already. The water ghoul barely lifted his head up to look at them as Aether started to quickly glance over the papers he was given. Simple things like height and weight, just to rule out any more obscure problems.

He was pretty, Dew had to admit. Blue skin and silky gills along his neck, the lingering thought of Rain even knew how they felt to be touched yet, and if he could send him home with the desire to do so. Delicate fins along his ears with a mop of dark hair. The poor thing was already blushing, looking properly scared even though they hadn’t done anything to him yet. Maybe it was Aethers size, or the perpetual resting bitch face Dew seemed to carry. The cherry on top was what was in his fist, a long string of black knots and beads, ending in a wooden inverted cross.

Aether raised his eyebrow at Dew who was properly staring Rain down, motioning down to his paper that was already all sectioned out for him.

“Oh- uh, I’m going to ask you some questions Rain, just routine in case there’s anything we need to know, is that alright?”

“Yeah, that’s ok” Rain shoved the rosary into his pocket, folding his hands in his lap and watching Dew nervously. He fiddled with his fingers, eyes darting between the two.

“How was your sleep the past couple nights?”

“Slept well, it’s new but my room is comfortable. Maybe 7 hours?” Aether gave him a smile while Dew scribbled down his answer.

“What has your diet been?”

“Small fish, been craving shrimp I think,”

“Ok, sounds good uh-“ Dew squinted at his paper, reading down to make sure he had recorded what he said properly and if there was anything else to take note of before he moved on. “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s apart of the protocol, is there any chance at all?” Rains face flushed deeper as Dew looked between him and Aether expectantly. He hesitated, biting his lip while he tried to think of what to tell them.

“No. None”

“Good, that’s fine, uh.. any chance of an STD?” The only sound in the room for a moment was the scribbling of Dews pen on the paper. Rain once again hesitated with his answer.

“No.” It came out more tense this time. Something a little more impatient about the answer.

“Perfect, what kind of protection are you using?”

“I’m not.”

Dew looked up at him with his brow furrowed. What did he mean he wasn’t? Maybe it was one of those things, where the siblings would come in and be adamant about not practicing safe sex even after Aether begged them and wonder why their tests all came back positive. If there was another rampant case of chlamydia papa would have their asses. Maybe he was just naive, nothing an awkward pamphlet couldn’t help.

“Well- if you’re not using protection then we do need to test you”

“It’s fine, trust me”

“We have to, we can’t just let you-“ Dew rambled. He set his clipboard down with a frustrated sigh before Rain interrupted him.

“I don’t have sex.”

Aether peeked his head up from his own sheet about reviewing Dew to look down over his glasses at Rain. Sure, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, and certainly not abnormal, but considering Rain was a ghoul Aether wasn’t sure if he fully believed him.

“You’re saying that you’re a virgin?” Aether asked, before looking back over at Dew.

“Yes.”

“Any reason or“

“Dew” there was a scolding tone to Aethers voice. The question was inappropriate, even if it was burning in both of their minds.

The room went silent for a second once again. Dew looked at Rain expectantly, waiting for some kind of answer. It didn’t truly matter but the curiosity was eating at him. The pretty little thing had never been touched before? What was he saving himself for?

“The Church.” Rain continued to pick at his fingernails, “was told to, they said it would make me a better servant for the clergy. For papa.”

Summonings were a fickle thing. Some of the ghouls were plucked from down below at random when needed in an emergency like Mist or the anomaly that was Cowbell, but others were chosen for it. Brought up to serve the church, practically handpicked for the band.

“Would there be any other reason for us to give you an….” Aether looked over at Dew, grabbing his papers to take his own notes, “exam of that sort?”

“No”

“Fingers? Toys? Maybe even a pillo-“ Dews leg was promptly kicked from under the table. Aether threw him a shocked look, mentally noting needing to go over how to talk to patients at a later time.

“I’m not allowed to. It would only distract me to give into those ….. desires”

Dew finally shut his mouth. The idea of asking “what kind of desires” edging their way into his brain. He couldn’t, at least not here. Aether was still staring at him, the frustrated shock of his words melting into something more curious about the ghoul who was sitting in front of them. The idea of being completely untouched was more than tempting for Dew to explore.

“Ok, that’s perfectly normal. It’s still part of protocol to give you a full physical, but in this case we won’t do any tests, just a look to be sure” Aether grabbed a pair of gloves before sliding the box to Dew, “do you mind fully undressing and putting on the gown on the table while we step out?”

It was Dews turn to look shocked. Aether was blatantly lying through his teeth, not only was a vaginal exam not necessary anyways, it especially wouldn’t be in this case. He’s not complaining, no, but the idea of Aether having his own plans about this made his heart beat even faster.

Rain nodded while Aether opened the door and motioned for Dew to step out. He still looked shocked, brows furrowed and eyes wide as he stared at Aether.

“A virgin?” Dew exclaimed once Aether finally had the door shut. “I didn’t know they did that in the pits. Keeping himself pure to please papa?”

“It’s not unheard of. River stayed untouched until he retired. In Omegas chart he mentioned having to be extra careful with him during any full body check ups” Aether watched the clock on the wall tick away, giving Rain ample time to undress and hopefully calm down a bit from being so nervous. It was cute, the bashfulness in his explanation, if Aether had half a mind he would’ve let Dew continue questioning him.

“Must be a water ghoul thing. Do you think he knows about his gills yet Aeth?”

“You’re a professional, remember Dew?”

Aether raised his eyebrow at him before giving a quick knock to the door, opening it slowly once Rain gave a meek ok. He sat up on the exam table. Ankles crossed and gown bunched awkwardly behind him in an attempt to cover himself. His clothes were folded in a neat pile on his chair, rosary sitting right next to his shoes on top.

Dew hastily snapped a couple gloves on his hands before walking up to stand between Rains legs, a little too close to be entirely clinical.

“Do you mind if I perform a bodily exam on you? we are just looking for any abnormalities we should be concerned about after your summoning” His tone was a bit quieter, something less harsh than his usual bravado.

“Please, go right ahead”

Rain reached up to undo the tie behind his neck, keeping the gown right under his breasts in order to not expose more than he needed to. His chest was small, a cute tiny pair of breasts with dusky little nipples that Dew was trying hard not to completely gawk at. He was a pretty thing, lithe body with a couple curves.

Dew pulled down the gown completely, letting the front section sit in his lap with his arms tight to his body. His cheeks were flushed a deep purple, eyes darting around to anywhere besides Dew.

“Going to have to ask you to lift your arms over your head for me, I need to see the gills on your abdomen” Dew reached beneath the bed to pump a small amount of lubricant on his fingers, rubbing them together to spread it evenly. The gesture looked, felt, dirty. Even if Rain was still in the assumption that it was completely innocent he couldn’t help how his mind wandered as he watched the blue latex shine.

There was a second of hesitation before Rain reached his arms over his head. Dews warm hand pressed down against his stomach, moving inch by inch to his side. Gloved fingers glided delicately over the soft fragile skin of Rains gills. Practically petting over them before dipping just the finger tip in as Rain gave a quiet gasp. He twitched Into the touch before quickly pulling away again.

“Are you alright Rain?” Aether looked from Dew to Rain, noting how he almost looked flustered. Lip between his teeth and the flush creeping down his chest. Dew turned and gave him a knowing look, pushing just a millimeter further in to watch him struggle.

“I’m fine, his hands are just … a bit cold” Rains lips turned into a tight line. He hoped neither of them would push back against such a bad lie, hell Dews hands were probably just on the uncomfortable side of too warm if Rain was being honest. Something sparked in his abdomen as Dew slid his fingers from side to side beneath the thin skin, eyes focusing intently as if he were looking for something.

“No pain? They seem fine otherwise. Nice color, not too loose, some amount of lubrication.” Dew mumbled in Aethers direction for him to write down, “I’ve heard of other water ghouls gills getting dried out from summoning, yours are slick though which is good”

Aether scribbled a couple notes down on his paper while Dew shot him a cocky look and pulled his fingers out of Rains gills, wiping his fingers off on a paper towel. Rain could see whatever came off of his hands shine in the white light of the room, embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. Sure there was the thought of what would happen if he pushed his fingers into his gills himself but the thoughts always came with a night of prayer and maybe a cold shower afterwards.

He didn’t need to be thinking like that. He was healthy and he should be happy, not letting Dews words make him feel light headed. What would papa think?

Rain brought his arms back down to rest his hands in his lap. The air was cold even if Rains body felt impossibly hot. Goosebumps prickled at his skin while Dew put on a fresh pair of gloves. His instinct was to cover himself again, no one had ever seen him this vulnerable, especially not two people at once.

“Still with us? You’re quieter than most of the other ghouls we have in here” Aether spoke up after a second of watching Rain stare intently at Dews hands while he put on his gloves. Rain jumped a little, looking back at Aether with wide eyes.

“Just don’t talk much, I’ve always been told I’m quiet”

“But you’ll speak up if you’re uncomfortable right?”

Rain gave him a solid nod. Aether pushed his glasses back up his face and crossed his legs in front of him to rest his clipboard on. Even beyond Rains racing thoughts he looked devastatingly clinical, Dew as well who was dressed in blue scrubs. Something to keep him grounded, remind him why he was there.

Dew stepped in front of him once again. His hands grabbed along his arms, pushing at his shoulders. They practically rubbed down his sternum in a way that made Rain shiver. Warm hands pressed into his ribs looking for any signs of pain or discomfort.

He took a deep breath as Dew finally made it up to his breast, palms kneading into the supple flesh with a careful eye. Rains fingers dug into the paper on the table with a sickening crunch. Aether immediately noticed how he practically stopped breathing, going entirely still with his lip between his teeth.

Dew tried to pretend he was being entirely professional, every pull and knead being necessary even if the pressure lingered until Rain finally squirmed under his touch, making Dew move on to the next area he was supposed to be examining.

“Seem sensitive” Dew practically hissed through his teeth. The professional demeanor was slowly coming unraveled the more he was able to see what his touch was doing to Rain. A blushing virgin practically losing his composure beneath him just from groping his tits. It was taking all of his self control not to just push him back onto the table and hike the gown over his hips.

Dew was getting ahead of himself. A particularly rough grab as he got lost in thought had Rain writhing off the table.

“Jus- just a bit- ah!” Rains thighs clamped together, chest debating on pulling away or pushing into the rough sensation. Dew was properly pulling at his nipples now, rough calloused fingers pinching the pretty buds just to keep drawing small forced noises from the back of Rains throat.

The gown had fully slipped down and threatened to slide off of his lap if he wasn’t careful. Small neat trail of hair along his navel with a couple dark curls peeking from behind the plastic. Rain knew he was about to be exposed if he made one wrong move, but couldn’t bring himself to grab the gown to cover himself again, not when Dew was touching him like this.

Rain shot a look towards Aether in a small plea for him to do something. Aether looked shocked, pen sitting idly in his hand as he stared blatantly at Rains chest while Dew worked. He should probably step in, pull Dew off and let Rain catch his breath but god he looks like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself and he puts on such a nice show that Aether doesn’t think he can intervene.

“Soft, probably feels so good, doesn’t it Rain?” Dew was almost impossibly close to him by now, both hands groping him and breath hot on his neck, “really never done this for yourself, never let yourself feel good?”

The words made Rains bRain turn off for a solid couple seconds. Whatever air of keeping things chaste and clinical now unraveling as Dew tugged on Rains nipples. He couldn’t deny the small sparks of electricity that ran through him with the pain of Dews pinching and pulling, couldn’t deny that it made his head feel fuzzy and stomach feel hot even if he wanted to.

“Not supposed to” Rains voice was meek. Sure he wanted to, but it was wrong. Sinful. Body dedicated to his papa but oh being touched like this was absolutely delicious. Even if it was just his breasts, something he had done in the shower more than a couple times with the excuse of making sure he was healthy even if his hands lingered, much like what Dew was doing now.

“You’ve never thought about it? Never considered giving into the desire?”

“I have” the admission struggled to come out. Like saying the words out loud were enough to damn him completely. “It’s wrong- not supposed to need or want anything more than papa”

Dew felt a little bad at the laugh that got forced out of him. A bit cruel especially as he pushed Rains tits together just to thumb at the cleavage, more just for the sake of doing it and to see Rain squirm than any other reason. The whole persona of medical professionalism had been thrown out the window the second he was even allowed to touch him there, and hell, Aether didn’t seem like he was going to stop him.

“Afraid you’ll just become addicted? Won’t be able to keep those hands away from this pretty little body of yours?” Dew gave another squeeze to Rains tits before skating them lower and lower, hovering over the only thing still covering any amount of modesty Rain had left.

Rain let out a shocked gasp as Dew pushed him down onto his back, legs maneuvered to be fully spread in front of him. The flimsy gown fell haphazardly onto the floor along with Aethers pen that had been dropped as he watched the scene in front of him. Rains legs pulled apart and cunt practically on display, slick coating him in a way that could only be described as obscene. Even for a water ghoul, it was more than a bit surprising to see how wet he had gotten from Dews hands on his gills and chest.

“See? Cunts just aching for it isn’t it?” A gloved finger slid between Rains folds, practically gathering the arousal and letting it drip down the latex, “Can feel you twitching. Give in, ask for it.”

Rains body was trembling. Legs shaking as Dew dipped the tip of his fingers inside of him for him to clench around. That’s all he had ever done himself. A couple of slow pets and maybe just the tip of his finger before he could come back to his right mind and stop himself. A night trying to deny what he really wanted, how he craved for something to be inside of him in a way that prayer just couldn’t take the edge off of.

“Papa wouldn’t allow it, my bodies for him”

“But it feels good doesn’t it Rain?” Dews fingers fully pushed inside of him. He was hot, beyond tight as he clamped down and let out a strangled sound. His thumb pressed against Rains clit earning a gasp that was forced from the back of Rains throat.

“So good-!”

Dews fingers pumped in and out of him slowly, scissoring apart to see if he could get him any looser. Dew could pass out if he thought about it too hard, his fingers being the first to open up the water ghouls virgin cunt? The thought had him about to shove down his scrub pants and be the one to fuck him first as well. He tried to maintain his composure, looking back at Aether who had a hand on top of his bulge, palming himself through his pants.

“Let yourself feel good, come on baby, give into those sick desires I know you have” there was an awful wet squelching sound coming from Rains cunt, slick dripping down onto the exam table as Dew rubbed fast circles into his clit.

“Please- need more” Rains hips canted off of the table, practically trying to hump Dews hand as he pumped his fingers in and out of him “don’t tell papa please-“

“Oh but Dew, it’s not supposed to feel good, it’s just an exam” Aether had gotten up to stand by his side, white coat discarded on the chair and clearly still hard.

What was he even getting at? He pulled apart Rains cunt to get a look at how Dews fingers slid in and out of him with ease, cold air of the room only making Rain feel more exposed while Aether practically gawked at him.

“It’s not?” Dew stalled his movements, Rain giving a small noise of protest beneath him.

“No, its entirely medical remember? since we are supposed to be keeping him pure, papas orders” Aether said like it should’ve been obvious. Maybe it should have been honestly, Aether pushed a finger of his in next to Dews making Rain arch off the table with the stretch. With the way he clamped down he was surely close already, never been touched and now being stretched wide on three fingers, “maybe the poor things just too far gone if he’s feeling this good. If he was truly devoted he would be still, wouldn’t ask for more. It’s a shame that we will have to inform papa”

Dew pressed a bit harder on his clit, fingers crooking up against that sweet spot he wasn’t sure if Rain even knew he had. Before he could stop it, Rain was spasming around Aether and Dews fingers, a small cry leaving his lips as he completely soaked the paper on the table

“Oh well that’s certainly not normal” Aether removed his hand, disposing of the glove in the trash can without another beat while Dew debated licking his clean, “a true disciple wouldn’t do that, would they?”

[wayfayrr]

hey uh. if requests r open. would it b possible to request a follow up to that self-aware-twi fic. if not thats ok i just wanted u to know i havent stopped thinking about it since i read it. altered my brain chemistry, touch-starved twilight princess link my beloved, etc etc. ur writing is top-tier <3<3<3

I think the best part about this ask is - I've had this written since early January. I actually wrote part two as a birthday gift for a good friend of mine @glowyskull <33

So this is more just me finally posting it sfbgdfbgdb. it's also funny to think that the twilight fic is my most popular fic now considering how the self aware au really started as just a really guiltily self indulgent fic - something fun to write that I didn't think could get as big as it did on my blog. and I'm glad that you liked it so much <333 whimpery touch starved twilight princess link is just so AUGH love him so

[masterlist]

“Oh you’re finally wakin up then darlin’.”

“...hmm?”

“C’mon darlin’, you can’t have forgotten what happened earlier already? Can you? Your fever - cold isn’t that bad so you can't have…”

Who’s rambling… and why does it sound so familiar?  Wait does that mean - is everything that happened earlier all real then, did link really crawl out of my tv just because he was lonely. Because I left him there, left him all on his own to rot in his own solitude. 

“Link? You - that - everything was real then? All of it?”

“All of it darlin’, from how I got out to how I’m never gonna leave ya.”

“Huh..? I could’ve sworn that you didn’t even mention anything like that…”

“Mhm, well you’re ill and still a little out of it darlin’ so you probably just forgot, you did agree though.” 

It does sound like something that I would agree to, I mean I’m the reason that he’s sentient. It would be cruel of me to throw him to the other wolves, he isn’t from here but besides even that, he isn’t from here. He doesn’t know how this world works, it would be worse than sending a dog to a shelter. It would be his death sentence for certain, and after all that I put him through for a simple pause in playing. The way he’s petting my hair like this though, it’s enough to simply just wash the rest of my worries away, if I could I would spend the rest of my life right here easily.  

“About your illness though, do you have any red potion anywhere?” 

“No, no things like that don’t exist here link and the painkillers I have aren’t worth moving for.” 

“If you’re sure… I’ll go and get them for you the second you change your mind.”    

“You don’t even know where I keep them.” 

His hand paused at that, causing me to let out an involuntary whine. I couldn’t even think to stop it with how it slipped out instantly, which he seemed fond of. Cuddling me closer to his chest and resting his head on top of mine, with what felt like a giant smile on his face. 

“I can look for them, It’s not like I won’t need to learn where everything is now that I’m living with ya… besides I’ve already put you through so much stress when you’re not well.”

“You didn’t mean to link, how could you have known I was sick?”

“...I don’t know - I just - it shouldn’t have been hard to know with how you looked when you opened the game. I’m sorry love I just wasn’t even thinking I just wanted to be out, but I should’ve been more considerate to you.”

With how silent he is in the game you could never have guessed how much he likes to ramble, it’s the second or third time it’s happened since he crawled out of the glas- the glass. Are his bandages holding up, he seems fine but he’s not from here, any infection could be deadly. He wouldn’t even see it coming with how much he’s fawning over my comfort right now. 

“Link?” “Yes, darlin’?”

Oh wow, he - well he’s whipped already. Is it real love or has all that time trapped alone twisted him into this. I’d look into getting him therapy but… if he mentioned the truth then it would be a matter of seconds until he’d be diagnosed with something inaccurate. No one. No one at all would ever believe that a video game character actually broke out of their game - especially not someone like Link falling for an exhausted student like me.

“Are you feeling alright? You have so many cuts and wounds right now.”

“It’s nothing that’s worse than anything else I’ve ever had. They do feel more real though.”

“...real?”

“They feel like real wounds, not something that could be healed away in seconds and they’re just tiny scrapes.”He sounds so giddy as he’s talking about being hurt - it’s unnerving when he starts holding me even tighter when he’s saying it. I don’t think I’m ever going to be getting away from him ever again… if I wanted to. Why shouldn’t I take a chance at having a relationship though. He cares about me - he really does even if it’s unhinged - it would be so nice to come home to him, to be able to spoil him and be spoilt by him. Even being held like this feels so unreal, so impossible that I shouldn’t be here with him. So much so that I want to stay here and fall back asleep without any argument. Didn’t he even say he wanted to be my lover? Why look over a gift too closely?

[winniethewife]

I laugh like me again, she laughs like you (Moon Knight System x F!reader)

Warnings: Presumed!dead character, Reader romantically involved with Jake, Marc and Steven are featured, Mother!reader, Single mom, Angst,

Words: 634

She would never expected to have to do this alone. Just as she thought she wouldn’t do many other things alone. Witnessing her Daughters first steps, Her daughters first doctors appointment, the first time she got really sick, the first time she made a friend, her first move, all the way to London. She wasn’t expecting to be alone for her child’s first…everything. And now as she drives down the street she looks at the little girl with dark curls and brown eyes sitting in her booster seat as she looked out the window eagerly.

“Celesia?” She called her daughter’s name and the little girl looked over at her, the gaze in the rearview mirror reminded her so much of the girl’s father.

~

Jake Lockley was a rascal, but he loved her, and for some reason she loved him back. Despite the complications, Despite Marc living his life how he wished, taking her Jake wherever that was, with whoever that was. She had managed to form a friendship with Marc, which didn’t make it any easier, because she started to care a whole lot, a bad habit of hers. At some point they moved in together, a lovely thing to have with Jake, an interesting time with Marc. So when Marc teamed up with Bushman, she had advised against it. It seemed like a really bad idea, it wasn’t that she just wanted to keep Jake with her, it wasn’t the fact that she would have to find another roommate, she was genuinely worried about Marc. So of course when Marc had already been too stubborn and had shipped off, It was time to get a positive pregnancy test, because the universe finds that shit funny.

~

“Yes Mommy?” Her daughter’s voice brought her back to the present.

“You ready for your first day at school?” She asked, trying to sound excited. The little girl nodded enthusiastically, giving her mom two thumbs up. Which she glanced in the mirror. “Remember baby, I can’t look at you when I’m driving so I need you to use your words.” She reminded the eager five year old.

“Right, Sorry Mommy. I am really excited! I can’t wait to make friends and learn things and-” The young girl continued to ramble, causing her mother to smile warmly. So many things reminded her of Jake, and Marc.

~

She sat tears streaming down her face as she read over the letter, all that was found of Marc Spector was some of his belongings in a bloodied temple in egypt, presumed dead, and seeing as everyone else on the expedition was dead that was a good assumption. But she was three months pregnant and currently trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do without her best friend and the father of her baby who, unfortunately in this case, inhabit the same body. She wasn’t sure how the hell she was supposed to do all this alone. Where to even start. But she didn’t have a choice now.

~

The whole day she kept checking her phone during work, just in case she missed a call from the school or a message from Celesia’s teacher, but there was nothing. At the end of the day she rushed to pick her up from school, and then they went to the store after. As the two of them puzzled over which kind of sweets to buy that week, she was surprised when a man ran into her.

“Oh, Sorry! That was entirely my fault there. So sorry.” The voice was too familiar, wrong accent, right voice.

“Jake?” She turned to look at the man, messy head of curls, Dark Brown eyes. The man looked confused. “Marc?’ She asked, maybe too hopeful.

“Sorry, Er I’m Steven, With a V.”

~

Masterlist

Taglist; : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

A/N: Middle of the night angst? Happens more often than you think.

[artssslut2]

Unexpected: Part Four

Art Donaldson x Pregnant Reader

Smut and fluff

You were now 14 weeks pregnant with your best friend Art Donaldsons baby. Your morning sickness had gotten much better now that you were in your second trimester. You and Art were in a good place, as the days went by living together you were acting more like a couple than ever. After the one rough night you had Art continued sleeping in your bed, you told him it helped with sickness but the truth was you just liked it. Things with your lifelong friend were seemingly back to normal except the fact that you no longer had sex. This was odd because when you would hookup, you would hookup at least three times a week. It had been a long time, you half wondered if he was going to find someone else to satisfy that need.

You and Art sat at the small kitchen table in the sun room eating breakfast. It was a Saturday and you both had the day off. Luckily Art was doing well, he had been winning tournament after tournament and was really making a name for himself. He thought it was because of his motivations, he needed to win for his family. You hadn’t forgotten what Art told you the first night he was in your room, you wanted him to really tell you.

At the table Art was on his computer looking at stats online and you were reading a book. You got up to get more orange juice Art glanced up from his laptop at you. Art did a double take and looked again, you gave him a look then continued pouring your juice. You walked back and Art continued staring at you like he was studying you.

“What?… Art what is it?” You asked waving a hand in front of his eyes, he smiled lightly

“Y/n i think your showing” he said carefully you looked at him confused “seriously go look.” He smiled, you went to the mirror in the bathroom and he followed. You started at yourself in the mirror, you had a tight maxi dress on and he was right. It wasn’t big but it was there

“Oh my gosh. How did I not notice!? That must have just happened!��� You said with a huge smile.

“It looks- you… you look stunning y/n” Art smiled admiring you. Your hand fell to the tiny bump on your stomach and you looked in the mirror again. Out of the blue Your mind wandered to thinking if he was going to sleep with someone else. Your eyes filled with tears. You weren’t an emotional person but lately you could feel hormones kicking in,

“What’s wrong y/n, I-I’m sorry is it something I said?” Art looked very concerned at your sudden mood change. You choked out a small sob

“Are you seeing other girls?” You cried dramatically. This was very out of the ordinary for you. Art was stunned,

“What? No, no of course not y/n… why would you think that?” He said in a comforting tone pulling you in for a hug.

“Because we’re not together you know but we are. And we don’t have sex anymore and you probably don’t even want to because I look different now and-“ art interrupted your rambling with a kiss. It was not like the kisses you normally exchanged. The only times you kissed were when you hooked up, this was different. The kiss was passionate but gentle, with no ulterior motives. He pulled away with one hand on your face his body still very close to yours. You were caught off guard by the kiss and just stared at him.

“There’s no one else. It’s you, it’s just you.” He hesitated your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat, “I’m in love with you y//n, I’ve always been in love with you. I don’t want anyone else I just want you, I want to really be with you in a real relationship. I want to have a family with you and marry you and buy you a house and do everything for you. I should have told you years ago but I… couldn’t I was scared. I’m still scared but I love you.” He confessed “I love everything about you, and if you don’t-“ now you interrupted him with a kiss, he gave in

“Me too…” he looked shocked “I love you too Art.” You told him pressing your forehead to his. Art sighed with relief and smiled

“Yeah?” He smiled holding your face in his hands, you grabbed his wrist

“Yeah.” You smiled back. You let a minute go by being wrapped in Arts arms

“You’re not just saying this because I’m crying right? Or because I’m pregnant?” You asked half kidding. Art chuckled

“Of course not, I’ve been waiting to say that for a long time.” He laughed kissing your forehead. You took his hand and put it on your stomach. He smiled relaxing into your touch.

“It’s our baby.” He said with the cutest scrunched up smile. You kissed him again. The kiss became more heated and less gentle. It turned into a messy make out,

“Fuck Art, I need you” you whined into his mouth. He groaned back

“Are you sure?” He asked surprising you, he looked at you pulling away “I -don’t want to hurt you or the baby or any-“ a mood swing came on again now you were angry

“Jesus you won’t! just fuck me!” You yelled grabbing his face. His mouth hung open you felt guilt come over you “sorry it’s just… been a long time and I am really horny all the sudden” you said giving a smile. “So fuck me!” Art laughed and went back to kissing you. He traveled down to your neck and behind your ear, everything felt so incredibly sensitive, you could feel the pool growing at your core. You breathed loudly slightly moaning,

“Your needy aren’t you?” Art smirked, you didn’t respond you just pushed his head down so he went to his knees. You sat on the bathroom countertop and Art placed kisses up your legs. He got to your core then stoped. He looked up at you, he then placed a kiss on your growing abdomen, you smiled.

“I love you.” He said softly looking up at you

“I love you too. But please I can’t take it any longer.” You whined throwing your head back. Art laughed then rolled your dress up around your waist, you had no underwear on because you were to big for your regular ones, Art saw and looked at you like it was the hottest thing in the world.

“Fuck your so pretty” he mumbled before licking you pussy all the way to your clit, you moaned loudly. It felt ten times better and so much more sensitive. Art moaned into you he worked your clit until you were crying his name out.

“Your so wet for me huh?” He asked, teasing you with a finger

“Please Art I’m so close.” You begged,

“Already?” He smirked, you could feel the band growing tighter inside of you ready to snap even though it had been like two minutes. You reached down and shoved his finger up your soaking pussy moaning. Art groaned and could feel himself grown painfully hard. He curled his fingers inside of you adding two more. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked it hard with his fingers still pumping in and out of you. You were throbbing around him, his other hand held your hip to keep you still.

“Cum for me, all over my face” Art demanded, you came immediately with a loud animalistic moan. Art kept going softly to ride you through your orgasm, you grinded against his face. Usually you would need a minute before going again, you would reciprocate the favor to art then you would fuck. But you felt a need inside you, you needed to cum again right now selfishly. Art took a breath with your cum smeared on his face.

“get inside of me. Now.” You demanded art looked a little surprised but didn’t protest he stood up and you unbuckled his belt and with his help ripped his pants down and freed his cock. It was swollen from being so turned on. You pulled his shirt off and felt his abs and chest. You ran your hands all over him as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Go. Now.” You begged, he thrusted into you hard balls deep.

“Fuck!” You yelled with pleasure.

“You feel so good baby” you groaned into your ear while he fucked you on the counter.

“I’m gonna cum again Art” you were shaking,

“Jesus y/n… cum around my cock please” you could feel his cock twitch inside of you, he was close too. It really had been a long time. You let go around him pulsing and moaning like crazy. Art moaned loudly too feeling you cream around him. You slipped off his cock right away. You pushed him back and got off the counter top

“What are- oh fuck” you interrupted him by slipping his cock down your throat, his head dropped back as he grabbed your hair, a string of profanities poured from his lips,

“God I love you y/n, I missed your mouth.” He mumbled. You knew he was close because he would always mumble and talk when he was about to cum.

“Shit I’m so close already baby.” He moaned, before he could do anything you pulled your mouth off his aching cock

“What the fuck cmon-“ you lifted a leg and leaned back to slide his dick back inside of you. He immediately came, hard and a lot. He moaned in your ear coming down from his high.

“That was so fucking hot.” He said catching his breath his dick still inside of you,

“It’s not like we have to worry about you getting me pregnant.” You joked kissing his cheek. He chuckled and pulled out of you and watched the cum stream out of your still throbbing pussy. Art was already hard again. You didn’t say anything because you were ready to go again too.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” You winked leading him into your room, you sat on the bed and he fell on it next to you, still out of breath and sweaty, he put his head on your chest and looked up at you with big puppy eyes.

“I love you.” He smiled and laid a hand on your stomach, “it feels so good to say out loud” he looked adorable, you thought back to the night he said it aloud and smirked

“Well you have said it out loud before” you teased. His face when white

“You heard that?” He he said his voice cracking, you laughed and nodded, he made a playful shocked face

“Oh you’re going to get it” he said climbing on top of you laughing, you giggled like crazy as he playfully attacked you with kisses.

The rest of the day you had many more rounds of hot sweaty intense passionate sex. It slowed down after the first round, you truly made love. For the first time it was romantic, you openly loved each other. It was all about connection. You laid in bed the rest of the day and talked. Talked about all the things that made you fall in love, and all the times you almost said it. You were wrapped in each others arms skin to skin. It was so freeing to be able to freely hold each other and love each other. You felt like a real family now, everything seemed so much less scary.

[lovebugism]

Hi I am begging on my knees for more of your steddie x reader it’s so good I’m crying

BIZARRE LOVE TRIANGLE | baby fever

summary: steve's got a bad case of baby fever. it's not so bad until you start getting sick with it too. eddie has to come up with a solution before all of you fall ill.

pairing: steve harrington / f!reader / eddie munson

a/n: i just realized i haven't posted anything steddie related in almost three months. i am so sorry. this is a total travesty. please enjoy this 3k blurb and find it in your heart to forgive me <3

You squint at the grocery list scribbled on a bright blue sticky note. It’s a mish-mash of all your different handwritings. Some are certainly neater than others. “This just says crabs… I think...”

“It doesn’t say crabs, you loon,” Eddie laughs from where he mans the shopping cart beside you. He’s steering the thing about as well as his van. “It says cereals.”

“No, it says a bunch of gibberish that no one can read but you,” you retort with a giggle of your own as you follow him down the breakfast aisle. “And we just need one box of cereal, alright? Singular.”

He turns to you with a cartoonish pout on his lips. “But why?”

“Because you’re like a kid, Eds. You eat the entire thing in one sitting, and then you’re absolutely haywire for the rest of the day.”

And, just like a child, the boy stands in front of the vibrantly colored boxes of cereal with a wide grin on his face.

The local grocery store was smaller compared to the others in town, but they had every brand of the breakfast food known to man, stacked in neat rows from the floor to ceiling. 

Eddie’s got a twinkle in his eye as his gaze runs over them all. And even though you think it’s all boyish and hilarious, you let him have his fun. 

He grew up unable to enjoy all the goodness of overly sweet cereal because bills and food with actual sustenance were always more important. Now, he’s got a halfway stable job with Wayne at the car shop, and he’s living at his own place with his boyfriend and girlfriend, and he can buy whatever the hell kind of cereal he wants. 

So, as far as he’s concerned, everyone who said he’d never amount to much can suck it. 

And you know you’ll let him buy the whole damn grocery store out of their cereal if that’s what he wants. It’s the least you can do for the world’s best boyfriend — a title he begrudgingly shares with Steve The Hair Harrington.

You’d give him the world if you could, but for now you’ll have to settle for a couple of boxes of Lucky Charms.

“Okay, so the OJ’s we got last time tasted like absolute shit,” Eddie mutters, mostly to himself as he crouches to peer at the lower shelves. “I saw a commercial for Waffle-O’s this morning, and they looked pretty good. But I know you like Breakfast With Barbie and Steve ate a bowl of C3PO’s every day for, like, two weeks, so…”

You stand by the cart and laugh at his rambling. You turn to look behind you with a lighthearted joke sitting on the edge of your tongue. It dissipates when you realize Steve isn’t next to you. 

Instead, he’s still standing at the end of the aisle with his back to you and Eddie — like his feet forgot how to work when he caught sight of the family across the store. It’s a mother and a father, dressed in their mid-weekday finest, with a baby swaddled at their chest and a toddler bouncing in the seat of the shopping cart. 

And you know it’s got the boy totally lost in his own head. You know he's picturing you and him and Eddie as that happy family — the one fills every store you walk into with baby babbles and bubbly laughter. 

Steve told you his senior year of high school he wanted a baby, that he wanted six of them, and that he wanted them all with you. And you were just a stupid seventeen-year-old girl who would’ve done anything he asked you to, though you definitely drew the line at babies. 

But you’re older now, and far more settled than you had been all that time ago. Steve’s ready for a family, but you don’t think you’re anywhere close.

“How about we just compromise and get all three?” Eddie finally concludes with the boxes already in his arms. He dumps them into the cart and notices that your attention is elsewhere. He realizes then that Steve’s gone too because his attention is stuck on a nice family minding their own business. 

“Not again…” he murmurs to himself while you go rescue the boy.

“I’ve never seen someone so sick with baby fever in my life,” you laugh as you drag Steve back to the cart by his wrist.

“I can’t help it!” he defends weakly. “They were so cute! They were all matching and I couldn’t stop thinking about how I can’t wait to coordinate outfits with our baby. Doesn’t that sound like the cutest fucking thing ever?”

“It sounds very adorable, Stevie,” you nod understandingly and try to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of him and his baby girl wearing matching pastels every time they step out of the house. “And we can be just like them in five years—”

“Five years?” he gapes.

“Maybe even ten,” Eddie shrugs and nonchalantly tosses a box of Count Chocula into the cart.

“Ten years— You guys are insane if you think I’m waiting ten years to have a kid!” Steve protests with a pair of buff arms crossed boyishly over his chest. “I’m not getting any younger over here, you know that, right?”

“You’re twenty-five, Steve, stop being so dramatic. We’re just now trying to get settled. I’m still in school, you’re still working at Family Video, Eddie’s still… Eddie. Don’t you think we should have actual careers before we have a kid?”

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance even though he knows you’re right.

It’s not like he wants to keep working at the stupid store on Main Street. He keeps putting off the conversation with his dad about another job, because he puts off every conversation with his dad. He’s scared of what asking for a position at his firm will do to his pride.

“She’s right, and you know it, Steven,” Eddie tells him, then scoffs. “I mean, can you really imagine me with a baby strapped to my chest on tour?”

You and Steve both pause and tilt your heads to the side as you picture the sight, terribly in sync as always. You can imagine it, quite perfectly actually, tangible enough to touch.

“Well—”

“That’s the cutest thing I think I’ve ever heard,” Steve finishes your thought for you.

Eddie cowers at the sudden attention. “Okay, stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat, alright? We are not having a kid right now. There’s no fucking way.”

Steve all but deflates at the rejection as Eddie pushes the cart down the aisle, desperate to escape the bubble of tension the conversation had created in the cereal section.

You smile sheepishly over at Steve and wrap your arms through the crook of his elbow, standing on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “He’s being grumpy about it, but he’s right… It’s just not a good idea right now— but it will be, okay? One day. Just not… to-day.”

┄

The day, for you, comes exactly seven of them later. 

You accompany Steve on his morning run and his routine stop for coffee. You’re not quite sure how he’s still mobile because your muscles are screaming, even after the warm shower you took to soothe them.

You left him alone for all of half a second to use the bathroom while he ordered drinks for him and you, and something extra for Eddie for when the boy decides to roll out of bed.

When you return, you find him bouncing a baby on his hip — a young thing, maybe three if you had to guess, with two buns in her hair like bunny ears and a sparkly pink dress to match the bows she wears in them.

Steve smiles down at her, talking to her in a baby voice and saying something you can’t hear because you’re frozen in place. You resemble him at the grocery store a week ago, when he was thrown into a daydream so suddenly that his body all but shut down. 

You look at him now, tickling the baby’s sides just to hear her giggle, and you see him with your firstborn — sleep deprived, covered in spit-up, and still the most beautiful human you’d ever seen.

You have to shake your head to remove the thought before it ruins you entirely. 

Freshly jostled from your stupor, you walk over to him. “Steve… Please tell me you didn’t steal someone’s baby.”

He laughs. “What? No! She was just a little fussy, and I offered to take her while her mom looked for something,” the boy explains. You look just behind him to see the woman bent over at one of the smaller tables, sifting vigorously through a large baby bag.

“She doesn’t seem very fussy now,” you observe, eyes flitting between his and the child's and noticing they’ve both got matching grins.

“She doesn’t, does she?” he smiles, softly scratching at her sides again to make her laugh. And she does, most enthusiastically so, tilting her head back and letting the giggles spill from an open mouth.

He turns back to you, with wide eyes and raised brows and a bemused grin. “I like she likes me.”

“Of course, she does,” you scoff. “Babies always like you.”

The mom returns with a snack in hand and a relieved smile. Steve passes the baby back to her with little effort. She whines at the loss of him, though the brightly packaged treat is quick to quell her sorrow. 

“Thanks for taking her,” the mother's grateful smile falters with exhaustion. “If I don’t give her the same snack at exactly the same time every day, she tends to go a little nuts.” 

Steve tells her that it’s no problem, that he was a part-time babysitter at one point in his life, and that her kid was better than those little shits combined. He censors himself before the swear slips out, though.

You go your separate ways when the barista calls out your drink orders and walk hand in hand back to your place.

“Did you get their names?” you ask him before taking a sip of your latte.

“The mom’s name was Maeve and the kid’s name was Harper—”

“Holy shit,” you mutter.

Steve snaps his head over to you because he thinks you’ve burnt your mouth. Instead, he finds you with a distant smile on your face.

“Those are the cutest names I’ve ever heard. It sounds like something out of a fucking cartoon or something.”

“Yeah…” is all he can say because his mind is preoccupied with a million other thoughts. He doesn’t tell you them, obviously, but you know they’re there. The sly smile pulling at his lips makes it obvious.

“…Why are you looking at me like that.”

“Because I’m totally gonna wear you down,” he grins and brings his coffee to his mouth, sipping through his smirk.

You only scoff in response. “Never.”

┄

It doesn’t take you very long to realize that Steve was right.

You spend the rest of the day thinking about it — about him with a baby and how perfect he'd be as a dad. The thoughts plague you far more than they usually do. They take up the entire frontal cortex of your brain and make it nearly impossible to think about anything else.

You’re self-aware enough to beat yourself up about it. 

You were just telling him that it wasn’t time yet, and you knew you were right. As far as you’re concerned, you still have another few good years before you’re ready to even start seriously considering it. 

But here you are, having to calm yourself down every time the thought of Steve Harrington with a baby, your baby, crosses your mind.

You wait until the boy heads to bed to talk to Eddie about it. You find him in the kitchen, eating handfuls of Breakfast with Barbie like a maniac. You’re too preoccupied to make a snarky comment about it.

“Steve wasn’t lying,” you warn him.

“..About what?” he wonders through the mouthful.

“About him not waiting ten years to have a baby! He wants one now!” you explain through a yell-whisper hybrid. “And he told me he was going to wear me down, and he was right.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide too, like he’s just learned you caught some sort of plague. You have. It’s called baby fever, and it’s only a matter of time before the entire house is afflicted. “Shit…”

“So you have to be the strong one, Eddie.”

“Oh, god,” he whines with pinched brows. “Why does it have to be me?”

“Because I saw him hold a baby today.”

“…And this is a bad thing?”

“Of course, it’s a bad thing! My hormones went crazy, okay? It’s like my brain stopped functioning, and I started thinking with my ovaries or something! All human instinct told me to lay down and procreate the second we got home!”

Eddie laughs to himself. “Are you sure it was human instinct, or was it just you on a normal Wednesday?”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you tell him, a sudden solemnity to your features. “You have to put your foot down whenever Steve talks about it because I will cave.”

“Alright, alright, have some Barbie cereal and settle down,” he tells you with a playful grin.

He offers you the box and you pout for a moment before sticking your hand into it and pulling out several red and purple butterfly pieces.

The boy wraps an arm around you with his free hand. He pulls you closer and noses at the crown of your head. You sigh as you relax into him. 

“I’ll take care of it, okay? I actually have the perfect idea.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” you waver through a mouthful of cereal.

“Don’t worry about it,” he lilts with a grin, smacking a kiss to your forehead. “Let me take care of it.”

┄

You and Steve are tangled in bedsheets, both slowly rousing but trying desperately to go back to sleep. 

You’re laying on your stomach, face smushed into the pillow you clutch to your head. Steve lays halfway on top of you — his legs knotted with yours, arm splayed over your back, and softly snoring in your ear. 

Both of you noticed the lack of Eddie’s presence, but chose not to linger on it too much, figuring he must’ve gone for a breakfast run. 

He returns hardly a moment after the thought of him crosses your mind. You hear the door open and shut again, then the shouts of your names entwined with a muffled barking.

You groan at the intrusion on your sleep.

Steve huffs and shifts against you, voice gruff with fatigue as he wonders: “Why do I hear a dog?”

The mixture of confusion and subtle knowing has you both shuffling out of the bedroom and trudging into the living room.

You round the corner and find Eddie standing by the door with a rowdy goldendoodle bouncing at his feet. He’s trying hopelessly to undo its leash when the thing starts to squirm at the sight of you and Steve.

Eddie’s eyes flit to the both of you when he notices you standing across the room. A smile bursts like early morning sunshine on his face. “Surprise!” he beams.

The metal of the leash clicks when he finally gets it unbuckled. The dog dashes your way, all but jumping into Steve and then spinning in circles with excitement as it tries to figure out who to accept attention from. 

“You got us a dog?” the boy wonders, head cocked back to dodge the thing as it licks at his chin.

“You said you wanted a baby,” Eddie shrugs. “So, I got you a baby.”

“This is so not what a meant,” the boy grouses in response, though he’s got his arms wrapped around the dog like he’s hugging it. “I mean, it’s not even a baby— it’s huge.”

“The woman at the shelter said he was eight months old. And he is a he, so stop calling him it.”

You crouch beside Steve, scratching the dog behind his ear. He pants with his tongue sticking out, almost looking like he’s smiling. It makes you smile too. 

“We don’t even have dog food. Or toys. Or a bed,” you stress. “What are we even gonna name it?”

“Well, I took care of exactly one of those things,” Eddie lilts with a grin. “They only had that gross artificial shit at the grocery store, but they did have some badass collars and an engraving machine, so…”

You and Steve peek through the dog’s golden curls and find a black band with silver spikes dotted around the neck. “Super metal, huh?” you hear himEdiejoke as you reach for the dangled heart pendant handing around the collar.

“…Ozzy?” you recite.

“See what I mean?” he beams. “Metal.”

[queer-ragnelle]

Why do you hate the Once and Future Knight? I decided not to pick up the book because of personal preference but I’d love to hear your rant on it

Hi anon!

I’m assuming you mean The Once and Future King by TH White?

There’s nothing I could say that hasn’t already been said before I’m sure. But I didn’t read the series until I had already read many other Arthurian tales and I really don’t understand the love the series gets. The negatives don’t outweigh the positives, and worse, the lasting impact of TH White’s characterization choices on subsequent retellings is a stain on the literary tradition that set us back too far to comprehend. Putting my rant below a cut because I went off and the subject matter is disgusting.

First and foremost, the bigotry is astounding. The racism, the misogyny, the ableism and every other prejudice and cruelty you can think of are staggering in their variety and magnitude. It’s vile. It’s inexcusable. I don’t read modern Arthurian retellings to be bombarded with that in every single chapter. TOAFK is not “a product of its time.” It’s a product of a deeply unhappy and hateful man. Plenty of earlier writing is vastly kinder to Palomides and Guinevere and Morgause and Mordred and Lancelot or any other character unlucky enough to be depicted by TH White. Literally the Medieval source material is more nuanced than that. Morgause get behind me.

Secondly, the anachronism is an annoying stylistic choice at best and yet another tool for bigotry at worst. Why are Mordred and Agravaine likened to Nazis? Like seriously what the hell? It’s not enough for them to be antagonists, the text has to invoke the Holocaust? It’s so extreme it rips the reader right out of the story and calls to mind the most horrific parts of history for no narrative benefit whatsoever. Baffling and bad.

Thirdly, the prose just kinda sucks. It’s rambling and TH White will pause the narrative to stand on a soap box to talk at the reader about his views. He’s anti-war. Fine. But of all characters to use as a mouthpiece—King Arthur? The warlord King Arthur? Make it make sense.

Fourth, most tragically of all, so much of what TH White did in his series is reflected in stories told to this day. Every other retelling has a cover quote comparing it to TOAFK. (It’s supposed to be a compliment!) To put it in perspective…

You ever read a retelling with evil neglectful parent and rapist Morgause/Morgan? TH White’s fault.

How about added incest between one of the Orkney bros and their mother (which sometimes results in someone other than Gaheris killing her, say, Agravaine or Mordred)? Thanks, TH White, that’s just what Arthurian Legend was missing, more incest.

Ever see disabled, crippled, bad seed Mordred? TH White started that trend.

What about Guinevere assaulting Lancelot when she learns about Elaine getting him drunk and raping him? TH White really said “Lol what if Guinevere hits Lancelot and spits in his face while he’s crying?”

And the racism! TH White walked so Thomas Berger could run (derogatory). Discussions of race are so intense and so frequent and so random like one minute the narrator has paused the plot to talk about how war is bad and now it’s slandering Native Americans? Brother this is Medieval England what is even happening right now? Oh, look, another N bomb. The antisemitism! Weren’t you just comparing Mordred to Hitler? What do you mean the Orcadian/Scottish characters are evil because of *checks notes* “the incalculable miasma which is the leading feature of the Gaelic brain?” [Queen of Air and Darkness chapter 5] Thanks TH White for stripping Lot, Morgause, Gawain, Agravaine, Gaheris, Gareth, and Mordred of all nuance, a condition from which they have, literally, never recovered. Of course there are some retellings since that write one or two of them with a crumb of nuance, but they’ll never be like they were in the Vulgate. Not all at the same time. I feel sick.

It goes on and on. I have to stop listing examples or I’ll get pissed off. But frankly, more people should be pissed off about it! I’m tired of seeing five star reviews on storygraph and goodreads accompanied by a review excusing the most bigoted garbage I have ever read in a children’s book. It’s vile and everyone should feel bad about defending it. It’s inexcusable. This wasn’t a case of good-intentioned inclusion with dated language, this was an author going out of his way to be hateful. Period.

Big names in the fantasy book community like Daniel Greene should not be awarding five stars and leaving an uncritical review.

Far too many readers acknowledge the racism and then rate it five stars anyway. Go to Hell, Spencer.

Here’s some from storygraph with, of course, praise for Marion Zimmer-Bradley’s pedophilic power fantasy Mists of Avalon, another piece of hot festering sludge everyone should stop talking about. Kill the legacy already. The real life victims have suffered enough.

There also seems to be a trend in these reviews that excuse the texts bigotry by referring to how “old” it is. Which is crazy to me for many reasons. TOAFK in its final form was published in 1958. That wasn’t that long ago. Also racism has always been racism, misogyny has always been misogyny, ableism has ways been ableism. Plenty of authors came before this and really make TH White look like a clown.

Let’s promote them. In reverse!

John Steinbeck wrote The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights in 1956 (published posthumously in the 70s, don’t go by that date). His depictions of Morgan and Guinevere are nuanced and fascinating, not to mention some original characters including an old granny who teaches Owain to be a warrior! This book also has a morally gray sun-powered Gawain without insulting his heritage, an emotional and thought-provoking Lancelot without marking his sin with a facial deformity, and a really sweet Marhalt who doesn’t often get much spotlight!

John Erskine wrote Restoring Palamede in 1932. He does exactly what the cover says, and writes a story about the Muslim knight Palomides beginning in his own country, living with his parents whom are both named, and follows him as he learns the ways of the world and finds an ally in his friend Brangaine! Tristan and Isolde are compelling here and while Tristan can still be a jerk to Palomides, it’s not the mask-off bigotry we’ve seen…elsewhere.

Howard Pyle wrote one, two, three, four books between 1903-1910. Two thumbs up from me. No notes. He drank his respect women juice, drew them with loving care, named so many previously unknown, and gave them voices. He was kind in his portrayal to Palomides and even some other knights of color from India. Morgause survives the narrative! We love to see it!!!

Henry Newbolt wrote Mordred: A Tragedy in 1895. A fascinating examination of family ties, all five Orkney brothers here AND their wives Lyonors, Lynette, and Laurel! (Minus Ragnelle bc life is unfair.) Guinevere and Lancelot are tragic and heart wrenching. Arthur struggles against his son Mordred and their destiny in a way that doesn’t outright demonize either side. It will rewire your brain.

Richard Hovey wrote his poetry between 1891-1900. A complex and interesting Guinevere and Elaine who are not enemies, Lancelot close with Galehaut during the war, destroyed by his torn loyalties between Arthur and Guinevere, Gawain who loves his friend Lancelot with all his heart, and so much more without tearing anyone down!

Oscar Fay Adams wrote his poetry between 1886-1906. Here we get a wide variety of character focus, with title-featured names from King Lot to Dagonet to Lamorak to Lionel. Each one is more fascinating and nuanced and fresh than the last, from a tour of Lot’s castle and meeting each inhabitant to Lamorak on Grail Quest learning to forgive himself from “sweet” Sagramore.

William Morris wrote his poetry between 1856-1910. All of it is on the Camelot Project but I also have this scanned book. Here we delve into Guinevere’s trial as she calls out those who have wronged her, lonely Galahad on Grail Quest relating to his father Lancelot and praising Palomides in his steadfast hunt of the Questing Beast, there’s even a poem named for Palomides himself!!!

Anonymous wrote Moriaen in the 13th century. It follows Aglovale’s illegitimate son Moriaen, who is of African descent. As he travels around Britain looking for his father, Moriaen meets many people who are afraid of his dark skin. BUT! All the Knights of the Round Table leap to his defense, even threatening townsfolk who try to demonize Moriaen for the way he looks and refuse him service. It is, essentially, an anti-racism story from the Medieval era. Not to mention healer Gawain’s care and attention given to the sick and disabled. That’s not even the moral/focus of the story so much as Moriaen’s journey, but it’s there and worth mentioning.

So here we are with a whole list of stuff to read that predates TOAFK and surpasses it. The last one is only sort of a joke. But it’s there to make a point about how inexcusable TH White’s racism really is. If Anonymous could give a black knight like Moriaen the narrative respect he’s entitled to for existing as a representation of real human beings that look like him, then TH White was capable of it too. Progress is not linear. This is not to say Medieval times were “better” than society today. But to write off any problematic story of the recent past as “a product of its time” as an excuse to make oneself feel better about liking it, well, I don’t know what to say. Maybe reflect on that. And while that marinates, read something else.

[flicklikesstuff]

How about rambling about your top favorite Epithet characters?

Uh oh, I’m afraid you’ve unleashed a great beast my poor, poor Anon….. But if you insist :)

Introducing My Top 5 Favs:

AND full doodle page ;)

(⚠️HUGE EE Spoilers below⚠️)

1. Rick Shades

UGHHHHHHHHH. LOVE this man 💖💖 A pathetic and pitiful wizard dude with one of the coolest epithets! My favourite bit of him is that he’s introduced as some creepy weirdo who sounds like he’d backstab you BUT turns out to be a really fcked up guy with no social skills and genuinely really does want friends. I LOVE it when stories twist expectations for a character and Epithet Erased just keeps doing it a lot.

While Rick is mostly silly and used as comedy relief through POP really, his tragic backstory adds in so much depth and the narration treats the horrors he went through with respect. Chapter 8 has repeatedly dug my grave each time I listen to it. I’m going insane with any Rick/Toidei thoughts. There’s so much I could say about how his traumatic childhood affected him so much and how it shows through his mannerisms and behaviour that we’d be here all day. (Oh wait- I’ve already indulged into his character in like 4 posts.)

Anyways, in general, I would offer my soul to the scary magic man and treat him to a nice day at the beach.

2. Dr. Sylvester Ashling

Sylvie was the reason I got into Epithet Erased in the first place 😂. My favourite thing about him is his DESIGN and POWERS. The swirls and cloud/sheep motif looks sick and his epithet showcase in the museum arc is beyond awesome. Like omfg, it’s just so genuinely amazing to look at.

He seems fun to bully, especially with that pretentious grown-up attitude he puts up. But underneath that, Sylvie’s character is just depressing to the point where it’s intriguing for me. The choice they made to quickly grow up and skip childhood? I wonder what made them decide to do that. Despite what he says, Sylvie really just wants someone to talk to and he really does care for people. He’s just scared to loosen up and become vulnerable in front of anyone.

Sylvie wanting friends but having trust issues and not knowing how to make some? Honestly, what a mood-

I got too insanely happy hearing his short little cameo in POP, even though they weren’t around for too long. He was in there waiting and looking for his only friend awwwwww.

3. Molly Blyndeff

Molly my CHILD 🥺🥺!! Her bear motif is adorable and her character arc within the museum is so wholesome and satisfying to watch. Reading POP just cemented her as my top 3rd fav because her inner dialogue and way of thinking hit way too close to home for me. I was so close to tears many times throughout and I just LOVE her.

Molly just overall learning to stand up for herself and making it very clear she’s no longer taking any sh*t? She’s the character I wished my younger self got to know earlier because it’s what she would’ve needed at the time.

4. Giovanni Potage

Is it much of a surprise he’s in my top 5? Why wouldn’t I like this total sweetheart who would lift the earth for his minions? I adore how he has like one of the lamest-sounding epithets but his insane level of creativity makes up for it completely. I also really found his unique view on bad guys really interesting. The stark contrast between being evil but also absolutely wholesome makes for a great character I love seeing interact with everyone!

Hoping he gets some sort of character arc though. So far, he’s still the same Gio we know from the beginning and it would be very interesting to see him go through a struggle or make tough decisions.

5. Ramsey Murdoch

Haha funny ratman. As I’ve mentioned before, my expectations for him were twisted and I LOVED it. My fav character in the Redwood Run Arc because poor dude isn’t allowed to catch a break. Even outside the show within the streams, he gets absolutely bullied by the plot. This is entirely what he gets for being 1 of 2 people (the other is Molly) that have the braincell to question the bizarreness of….well, everything.

Ramsey is an impressively intelligent character who just has the hilarious misfortune of having things almost never go his way. He’s entirely the reason he and Percy manage to survive Zora and he STILL gets screwed over by getting arrested. Anyways, yes. I love his dynamic with Percy being a subversion of the typical buddy cop trope. Looking forward to having more of him in the next book: Sweet Escape :33

…………..

If you haven’t noticed already, this ask led me to go through multiple trials of tests to see which brushes and colouring process I prefer digitally.

Rick’s was my first attempt and it’s just… terribly basic really. I wasn’t used to Procreate at that point 😅.

Sylvie’s was next and after watching basic tutorial videos, I turn to really like the colouring style I did for them. Wasn’t fond of the rough outline though.

Gio’s was the exact opposite of what I’ve done with Sylvie. While I liked how it popped out in a comic-style kind of way, I wasn’t a fan of the solid shading.

For Ramsey’s, I was a lot closer to finding out my preferences. I pretty much just combined what I liked from Sylvie and Gio’s drawings. Softer shading and a smoother, thicker outline.

Molly’s was my last attempt and one I’m heavily satisfied with! :D It’s the same as Ramsey’s, but I added a lot more detail to the eyes, coloured in some outlines and even added an overlay!

The whole trial and error process was so much fun and very much worth it too! X3 💖💖