#I got to really think about gum and how some of his experiences shaped him

[piipaw]

Okay this new ask game's a bit crazy but here we go:

Mistle toe 3 and 4

Ivy 1 and 3

Holly 3,5 and 4

Fir 3

I think I got it!

Do other people experience your OC as having a “peaceful” energy? Or are they inclined to restlessness - or even fractiousness?  Do others find them relaxing company?

Pre game and into act 2 Gum is very restless. He's been plucked from all he's ever known into what's simultaneously his biggest nightmare (threat of turning illithid) and what's also a new beginning. I think by time he reaches baldurs gate in act 3 he's a lot more calm, a lot more comfortable with himself. At that point he's more relaxing company but early on he's anxious, he doesn't know how to regulate his face and emotions, he can speak common but the cultural difference and high tensions don't help.

To what extent does your OC believe in the perfectibility of mankind?  Do they believe that they are playing a part, no matter how small, in ushering in a new utopian age of co-operation and peace?  Or do they consider that people are intrinsically flawed and that the best that can be hoped for is a series of trade-offs between conflicting values?

Gum is unable to function without feeling as if he's servicing some higher power. So at first it's Vlaakith and then Mystra. Interacting with Gale and learning about his connection with Mystra does give him a moment of weakness- another moment where he doubts his faith, and he really struggles with what it would mean to find another higher power to serve.

I don't think Gum sees it as like he himself is powerful, even after doing everything with the elder brain. As much as he works to try to improve relations between himself, his new found friends/family, and his community- I don't think he considers the bigger picture of like all life as a whole.

Has your OC ever been unfaithful in a relationship?  Could they ever be tempted by the physical charms of another?  Or have they ever been surprised by how little they are tempted by others, at least once they embraced their current lover?

So pre game when he was still faithful to Vlaakith I think Gum could be considered like promiscuous by human standards. But none of it was with strings. Just consensual moments with his crèche mates. Act 1 he does sleep with both Lae'zel and Astarion simultaneously- but neither of them indicate at the time of initiation that he's in a relationship with either of them. He cares for them differently, and feels as if he can't say no to them.

So once he does confirm what he feels for Gale is the real deal and learns it's mutual he's immediate to cut things off with the two of them. Lae'zel seemed bummed but got over it fast, and Astarion seemed really cool about just being friends.

But after that no, he's never once considered anyone else besides Gale. The only exception would be that post game Astarion kind of gets involved again but it's open and everyone mutually agrees to it.

I don't think Gum ever anticipated being in a long term monogamous relationship but that's not to say he doesn't enjoy it. He's just baffled at the human customs of marriage and stuff.

Anyways everyone at camp act 1 into 2 was so sick of watching Gum and Gale process everything and fumble around. Taking bets on them even.

Has another person ever offered to leave their spouse or lover for your OC?  What was it about them that this person found so hard to resist? How did they feel about it at the time? 

I guess you could suggest that's what Gale does to a player Tav, since like he easily could go back to Mystra if he really tried, but canonically for my file Gale returns the crown and just stays happily married to his Githyanki spouse.

For Gale I just think having a partner in the material plane is a refreshing thing for him. Like idk everyone's got their own interpretations for how he views and got involved w Mystra, but she's got a power imbalance over him and occupied a long part of his life, so I imagine he never really had time for anything serious on the material plane before or after her.

Has your OC ever taken on a burden or suffered harm to protect another from suffering its consequences?  Did the person in question realise that they had done so?  What was their motivation when doing this?

Oh yeah Gum does this a lot but my favorite example would be!!! Okay so we did not bring Lae'zel to the crèche bc Gum heads her going off about the zaithisk and having ran one at his old crèche, he did Not Want her going near this one. So his plan was simple: go in w the group acting as the others were his 'servants' and briefly seperate to disable the zaithisk when nobody is looking. Ezpz until the gang won't let him sneak off and he gets immediately put in the chair himself.

Like knowing how it works and that the machine isn't made to "purify" but essentially fry your brain so useless you either die or become complacent without enough mental capacity to turn illithid, he basically just accepts the fate that like. Well. It's just irony- I've had to kill others with this exact same device I guess it's only fair I get a turn too.

He was fully willing to die in that chair if it meant the others could run and it would keep Lae'zel away.

Does your OC believe that they were historically let down by those who should have protected them?  If so then what has been the impact of this upon them?  If not then have they always been kept safe by others?  Has anyone ever sacrificed themselves to protect them?

Yes! So it's not going to be the same in the traditional human sense of ppl who should have protected them. But I think like the 'failure' of his crèche superiors (be it the gustil, sarth or kith'rak) allowed for his rival to pass with no intervention was arguably Gum's biggest turning ooinr. It lead to his lack of faith n in Vlaakith, it led to him changing his class, ect.

Without that initial disappointment, Gum wouldn't have changed. But!! I would say that while he doesn't have anyone who has sacrificed themselves for him, nor does he really have anyone protecting him (I mean tadpole gang watches each others backs but) it's more the reverse where he's self sacrificing and wants to protect the others.

What does your OC believe to be the luckiest event in their life?  Is this an accurate assessment?  Or was there actually more than simply luck at play?

Luckiest event for Gum factually and like emotionally is the day he gets captured upon the nautaloid. Like at the time it's his worst nightmare come true, but like once he's off and at camp and protected from turning it's very clear to him that without this he'd never had left his crèche alive.

Would your OC ever fight for a lost cause on principle?  Or would they give up – or even change allegiance – in order to ensure the best outcome for themselves?

So I think this is very circumstantial to like what the example is.

Because becoming a cleric of Mystra could be seen as a change of allegiance.

The choice of Orpheus Vs Emperor could be seen as Changing sides for a better outcome VS. fighting a lost cause on principle.

I think gum has a healthy amount of knowing when to be stubborn and push, and knowing when to accept new information and strategically switch sides.

[harmonictechnicality]

Eddie's Memory Log: Day 59

part 1 here | part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 6 here (ao3 link here)

Steve spends an obnoxious amount of time in front of the mirror. This isn’t breaking news. If he were in that fairytale with the evil witch and her Mirror Disciple, the mirror would be so sick of Steve’s vanity by now.

The surprising part is that Steve has been in front of the mirror since five in the morning. He couldn’t sleep, his mind is one channel full of reruns. And unfortunately, people don’t have a fucking remote control to turn off their brains, so he’s just stuck reliving Saturday morning over and over again.

Here he is. Just staring blankly at his reflection. Yawning. The reflection yawns back. Flipping his hair to one side, thinking about Eddie. Flipping his hair to the other side, thinking about Eddie. Spraying the flyaways down, thinking about Eddie. Steve has to splash his face with water so much that he’s going to show up to the hospital looking like a shriveled-up sponge.

He’s nearly satisfied with how it’s shaping up when Steve is smacked with a thought. A rewind in his rerun. A loop.

It’s Eddie’s voice, that scratchy morning one that made Steve’s toes curl up in his sneakers. All he can hear now is that voice repeating the same syrupy sentence:

‘Feels like cashmere now…’

Steve listens to the phrase till his knees start to wobble. He reaches up into his hair, just to experience what Eddie experienced that day. Instead, all Steve feels is hardened strands. All of it holding a sticky residue. Not soft at all. And definitely not cashmere. 

Before the loop can start over for the umpteenth time, Steve strips off his meticulously planned outfit and hops into the shower. The water bursts out, directly onto Steve’s nearly satisfactory styling job. It breaks his pride more than his heart, washing all his hard work away so easily.

Steve never really goes out in public with unstyled hair anymore. Not after the time in eighth grade when Hailey Barnes got gum stuck in his hair mid-make out. Steve had to cut it the shortest it had ever been in his whole life. Led to a full blown Samson storyline for the rest of the school year. He still dated, sure - but barely any second dates.

Steve shakes off his biblical trauma and blow-dries for a good fifteen minutes. Look, if he can’t style it, he can at least dry it out. He’s not a complete heathen for christ’s sake. 

It’s weird, staring back at an unstyled Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. But this might earn him more scalp massages. Potential kisses. Potential memories. So if Eddie wants cashmere, Steve’s gonna fucking give it to him.

He’s probably gonna be late for visiting hours, but he’s hopeful that Eddie will forgive him once he gets his vein-busted hands into Steve’s hair. Driving over the speed limit is not exactly necessary and certainly not legal, but fuck it all.

Fuck it all with the windows down.

It’s a gross habit, but Steve starts chewing on his nail as soon as he reaches the door to Eddie’s room. He’s gotta kick these nerves in the ass, pull his charisma out with a rope or some shit. 

There’s no reason to be nervous, not after Eddie verified that Steve was reading the situation correctly. That should be confirmation enough to make Steve stop his nasty nail-biting and boost his enthusiasm to max volume.

So that’s exactly what he does. Steve swings the door open, pointing directly towards Eddie upon arrival. “You have some serious explaining to do, Munson.”

“Quite the entrance you got there.” Okay. Less enthusiasm than Steve, for sure. Not even half-volume enthusiasm.

“I mean, just leaving me hanging like that?” Steve lightly smacks Eddie’s shoulder.  “You really are the worst eye candy employer of all time.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow as he nods along. “Sure…”

The enthusiasm is dialing down to fucking mute. At this rate, Steve will have to skip the sly banter, go straight for the obvious. His dignity would be damaged if he weren’t so wired.

“Oh come on!” Steve shoves Eddie’s shoulder a bit harder this time. “You’re not gonna say anything about my hair?” Steve runs his hands through it, movie slow-motion style. Then he shakes it out, flounces the ends. Anything for some sign of life at the moment.

“It’s… different.”

No shit, it’s different. It’s certifiable fluff right now. Sort of like angel food cake without the icing. 

Steve has to shift gears yet again. Maybe the straightforward path is too basic for Eddie’s liking. Maybe he prefers the smooth lines. Steve can do smooth. Smooth is his fucking specialty.

“Free cashmere doesn’t come around like this everyday.” Steve sits next to Eddie on the bed, messing around with his heart monitor cord. “So touch it all you want, Eds.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Eddie’s face goes siren red. He scoots away from where Steve is sitting and laughs somewhat nervously. “Was it drugs? Did you finally raid my lunchbox?” 

“No. No drugs. Just…” Happy to see you. A little wounded that you’re not as happy to see me. But still… happiness overall.  “A rare good mood, I guess.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie scoffs. "You are mighty chipper today.”

“Well, yeah.” Steve gets off the bed. He’s clearly making Eddie uncomfortable and he doesn’t know why. His energy is the same as it was Saturday morning. A little heightened, sure, but Eddie thrives off intense shit. Well, he usually does. “I mean, considering what almost happened Saturday.”

Eddie holds up both hands. “Wait. Time out. Saturday?” 

“Yeah.”

“This Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“You were here on the weekend?”

No. No, this can’t be happening. This is Eddie scribbling Steve-related notes on his arm all over again. The trap door in Steve’s stomach drops, all of his insides feel like they’re plunging down to his feet. The blush that had settled in Steve’s face, is now being whipped around, right up to his forehead. He feels sick. He feels a migraine forming. He feels fucking robbed.

“Please. Please tell you didn’t forget.” Steve’s voice is small.

Eddie doesn’t respond immediately, just studies the grim expression on Steve’s whole face. “I need you to be specific with what you’re talking about, Steve.”

“Do you remember Friday?”

Eddie looks up at the ceiling as if his memories are stored somewhere up high. “You came over. We talked about your mixtape. Bubblegum shit. See a dentist. No insurance, yada yada.”

So far, so good.

“We watched the Home Shopping Network for four hours.”

Three, but Steve lets that one slide. Probably felt like four hours.

“The doctors gave me new medicine for… something, I don’t know.”

“That part is important.”

“Yeah well, you try being on more medications than you can count on your hands.” Eddie barks back.  “See how many ridiculously long latin names you can remember.”

Look. Steve is a patient person - hasn’t always been that way, but the unexplainable circumstances over the last three years has Miyagi’d the shit out of his patience levels.

Five days a week, Steve sits here. Patiently dealing with whatever unpredictable mood Eddie is going through that day. Five days a week for almost three months. Steve doesn’t wanna sit here and do the math because he knows it’ll be depressing numbers. So many days, hours, minutes, that he spends being the Patient Guy.

But with Eddie snapping while Steve is trying to process how such an amazing moment can simply vanish like a demented magic trick? No. Steve is no longer proficient in the art of Patience.

“You know I didn’t mean that…” Eddie mumbles, fiddles with one of the wires attached to him. Not exactly an apology.

“No please, continue to use me as your emotional punching bag. It’s one of my life’s greatest joys.” Steve leans against the wall, all casual and relaxed. But his words bite just as hard as Eddie’s did. The way he looks and sounds are total contradictions to each other.

Eddie rubs hard over his eyes. “Shit, Steve. I’m being an asshole.”

Fucking christ, that’s still not an apology. “Whatever. Just tell me what you remember after the doctor gave you the medicine.”

Eddie sighs. Looks back up at the ceiling while he talks. “I got really sick…”

“Yeah.”

“You were here.”

“Per usual.”

“But I passed the fuck out once the fever went away.”

“And then…” Steve motions his hand for Eddie to keep going.

“And then?”

Goddamnit. “You don’t remember.”

Eddie stays silent. Searching the whole room now for memories that do not exist. Memories that have expired. Memories that are one-sided.

“You don’t remember any of it.” Steve whispers to himself. 

His impatience gets distorted with all of his feelings for Eddie. Everything is barbed-wire sharp, cutting up his throat. He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, the answers are too unfair. The reality is too bleak. Steve doesn’t deal with his own mental hurdles most days - he can’t add new psychological pitfalls to his life.

Steve is holding his forehead, urging the headache to go away with fingertips and delusion. He opens his eyes momentarily to see Eddie staring back. He looks worried. Powerless.

That makes two of them.

“Steve.” Eddie is almost whispering. “Whatever it is… I’m so sorry that I don’t rem -”

“Don’t do that.” Steve interrupts. “Don’t apologize for having head trauma, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright. I won’t.”

Steve crawls through the barbed wire, gets muddy and messy with the truth. “Look, there’s a lot of other shit you should feel sorry for. Like lashing out at me all the time. And never asking how I’m doing with my… life and shit.”

“There’s a vending machine down the hall that you could fill with all the reasons you should feel sorry. Might as well make a fucking profit off of your remorse.” Steve tacks the dark joke on at the end because he can. Because it’s Eddie.

“But your recovery process is not one of things you should ever feel sorry for. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie gulps. Nods. “Okay.”

Steve is standing at the foot of Eddie’s bed, hands gripped around the plastic railings. His knuckles are the same sterile white as the rest of this god awful room. Steve has become a chameleon to this place that somehow manages to feel haunted by more than just lingering mortality.

“I think I’m gonna head out.” Steve says it without even trying really. The words just stumble out.

Eddie’s mouth opens, forming an ‘oh’ in reply, but no sound comes out with it. 

“Yeah this just isn’t… I don’t know.” It’s a lame thing to say but it’s true. Steve has no fucking clue what to do anymore. “I don’t think I can do this today.”

Eddie doesn’t look at him. “Got it.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Steve takes those few painful steps to the door. His limbs feel heavy. Like guilt and confusion are weighing him down.

No words fit this moment. This departure. So Steve throws a few out there in hopes that it’ll be enough:

“Just… hang in there.”

It’s not enough. Not even close. 

“Will do, Harrington.” Eddie still doesn’t look at him.

The door shuts, but Steve thinks he feels it slamming all the way down his spine.

Day 60: 

Steve doesn’t go to the hospital today. 

It’s Tuesday.

Day 61:

Day 62:

Day 63:

Day 64:

Day 65:

Steve hasn’t really talked to anyone since Monday, not even Robin. She called him once on Wednesday to see if he wanted to grab dinner with her and Vickie, but he politely declined. Didn’t even bother fabricating an excuse. Just stuck with good old-fashioned ‘no.’ Why reinvent the wheel with rejection?

He’s in dirty clothes and watching an Andy Griffith marathon, when the phone rings. He almost ignores it - except he needs to get more onion dip from the fridge anyways, and the phone is on the way there. Might as well pick it up.

“Harrington residence.�� His voice drones. “Steve speaking.”

“Shit.”

Shit. “Eddie?”

“Yeah. Hey, man.”

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you okay?” Apparently, Steve cannot switch off the caring portion of his heart.

“Everything is…” Eddie holds out the ‘s’ sound for a while. “I just needed to apologize.”

“Right.”

“And to thank you.”

Steve lowers his eyebrows. “For what?”

“Being here… when you were.” Eddie’s voice sounds dried up. Like he hasn't spoken much in days. “I know you haven’t been back for a few days, and that’s my own damn fault.”

Most of the behavioral stuff is his fault, yeah. But the icing out bullshit that Steve is pulling is cowardly. He’s not doing anything productive with his free time. He’s deadlocked. Stranded in uncertainty.

Eddie continues. “But for all the days you didn’t give up on me… I guess I didn’t know how much I needed that. So thank you.”

“That’s…” Steve is about to say ‘unnecessary,’ but decides against it. Dismissiveness solves nothing. “You’re welcome.”

“Even when I was being Kathy or Hyde or Grendel or whatever else you managed to come up with behind my back.”

Steve didn’t. He thought up a lot of spiteful shit, but he never said any of it out loud. Okay, maybe some it slipped along the way. He’s not perfect.

“I wouldn’t blame you for never coming back to visit me.” Eddie is talking faster now - which is basically normal Eddie speed. “But if you did… I have something I wanna to give you.”

Steve groans. “Not a mixtape, right?”

“Nah, I’ve tortured you enough with my own vocal ridicule.” Eddie snickers, Steve joins him. “It’s nothing much, but yeah. It’s here if you want it.”

“Okay… yeah. Thanks.”

Steve smiles, very briefly. His mind reminds him far too soon that nothing is fixed. Sure, he’s not pissed off at Eddie. The apology was genuine. Beside, it takes way too much brainpower to hold grudges. 

But Eddie doesn’t remember what Steve will never forget. That’s still very real.

“Hey, Eddie.” Steve checks again. Just to be certain. “You really don’t remember Saturday?”

There’s a pause. “I really am sorry, Steve.” 

Yeah. Sucks just as hard as it did on Monday.

“I know you said not to be sorry for my memory, but I am.”

Well… Eddie remembers their fight.

“Glad you remember that part.” Steve finds the positive. Even if it tastes bitter, it’s positive-ish. “Thanks for calling, Eds.”

“Thanks for not hanging up.”

“Oh, there was deep contemplation about hanging up.”

Eddie lets out a single snort. “Good. At least you’re consistent.”

“I figured there would be lots of bad karma for hanging up on a dude that’s bed-ridden in a hospital.”

“Undoubtedly bad karma. They’d put you in karma jail for such actions.”

“Glad I decided against it then. I’m way too pretty for karma jail.”

“You’re way too pretty for any iteration of jail, Steve Harrington.”

The conversation becomes a stream of easy jokes and harmless insults. Steve prefers it this way, feelings or no feelings. He likes the relaxed discussions that he can have with Eddie. He likes how Eddie will run wild with a topic, so that he can just listen. He likes that Eddie will gladly shut up if Steve wants to interject.

Steve just likes him. Likes Eddie.

They talk until Eddie takes his nighttime meds, promptly falling asleep. Snoring into the phone speaker. Steve stays on the line a little while longer. Waits until he hears the heart monitor beating out a steady rhythm. 

He hangs up and heads to bed himself. Forgets all about his onion dip and the Andy Griffith marathon.

Day 66:

It’s six in the morning. The sun is gradually hitting the horizon, but Steve is wide awake regardless. He’s a fairly competitive person, but Steve definitely shouldn’t be competing with things like nature, goddamnit.

He picks up the phone, the same one he used last night to talk to Eddie. Swears that it’s still warm from being pressed to his cheek for hours.

He calls Robin. It’s inconsiderate as hell to call this early, but she’s the only one of his friends that might answer at this hour.

Might being the key word. There’s no answer.

Steve sucks in a deep breath. Decides to be extra annoying and calls again.

“Hello?” Thank god it’s not her dad.

“Morning, Buckley.”

“Bye.”

“Wait!”

Robin swears under her breath a few times. “Why? Why must you insist on having the sleep schedule of a farm animal, Steve?”

“Trust me, it’s not by choice.”

“I don’t trust anyone that calls me before noon.” She yawns the last few words of her sentence. “Something must be wrong with you.”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. Nothing you didn’t already know about anyway.” Steve does want to chat and get his mind off of things, but he also needed to hear his friend’s voice. “Just wanted to check in.”

This is what they do now. They have to. No one else is going to check on them because no one else even knows that they literally threw flames at a demonic entity. So they call or show up whenever they can.

They have to.

“I’m hanging in there.” Which is seemingly better than ‘I’m here.’ That phrase is an emotional grenade. “How about you?”

Steve laughs, then sighs. “Obviously sleep is a fuckshow. But yeah. Hanging in there too.”

They shift to lighter subjects. Movies they’re excited to see. Plans to try the new Italian restaurant on Main Street. All the petty town gossip they can think of.

Robin talks about Vickie too. Apparently, they have the same top four favorite novels. She mentions that three times in the same breath, so that must be a pretty big deal. Steve can hear her smiling through every ordinary detail she shares, which makes him happy. He’s glad his best friend has found someone that makes the ordinary shit seem like an adventure.

It selfishly makes him think of Eddie though. How badly he wants to bring him up after every other sentence. How random words remind him of something stupid Eddie said or did.

He’s doing so well with holding back, until Robin asks. She says his name, and Steve fucking shivers at hearing it. Eddie’s name, right in his ear.

“Haven’t seen him in a week…” Steve tries to toss it in there casually, despite how un-casual it is.

“Does that mean his memories are back?”

“Not exactly…”

Robin hums into the speaker, catching on quickly to Steve’s un-casualness. “Well, the coffee is already brewing. Might as well tell me what the fuck happened.”

He goes over everything in random order - whatever hits his mind first. The argument, the spending the night, the arm scribbles, the almost-kiss, the phone call. Steve sounds just like Robin talking about Vickie. Very little breaths and stupidly smiling over all the good parts. 

He doesn’t really elaborate on the fact Eddie is a guy and that he’s attracted to him anyways. There’s so many other complicated factors, that part has seemed secondary since the beginning. And honestly, he’s sort of grateful for that. Steve doesn’t want to overthink this. He just wants to see where this will go.

It’s painfully quiet for a while once he gets through everything, even the weirdly erotic hair-massage bit. He’s starting to think they’ve lost connection when he hears Robin crunch her breakfast. Loudly.

“So…” Steve urges. “What do you think?”

She’s chewing her toast even closer to the phone. “About you being in love with Eddie? It’s weird.”

“I’m not in love with Eddie.” 

“I’m sorry - you just told me that his heart monitor beats to the rhythm of a song while he’s sleeping.”

“Patiently.” It's Steve's favorite Journey song.

“Pop the champagne and prepare the gondola, my friend.” Robin exclaims. “Cause that is love.”

“Whatever.” Steve grumbles. Sort of despises how valid her point is. “Can’t believe he doesn’t remember.”

“It’s not like he’s cherry-picking his memories, dingus. This wasn’t on purpose.”

Steve clings to that fact. Robin is hardly ever wrong and he loves that about her. “Can’t believe he mentioned Scoops… that fucker.”

“Oh I can believe it.”

He holds his breath for a few seconds. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Eddie was there loitering samples as much as baby Sinclair.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Uh.” She sounds totally annoyed with him. “Yes. He was.”

“I think I’d remember seeing a frizzy-haired hyena at Scoops fucking Ahoy, Robin.”

“You’re so wrong about this, my friend.” Robin is giggling now. Steve never knew a giggle could sound so villainous. “Eddie only came to get samples while you were scooping at the back counter.”

“Okay…” Steve says.

“You know… to enjoy the show.”

“It’s too early for this.” He huffs. “Just spell it out for me, Buckley.”

The villainous giggle returns. Might be more evil this time. “Pretty sure the middle-aged divorcees nicknamed it the Below Deck Viewing Party.”

Steve finally gets it.

Oh fuck. “My ass had a fan club?”

“Afraid so.” Robin says. “And Eddie Munson was one of its most loyal admirers.”

Steve feels like running in circles. Doing burpees or jumping jacks. Maybe he’ll just start clapping over this brand new information that’s illuminating the horniest parts of his mind.

“How have you never told me this?” Steve questions, still sizzling with energy.

“And make your big head even more insufferable?” Robing drones. “Ugh. Gag me.”

That checks out. Steve is going to be so intolerable now, especially when he wears those laundry day khakis that Eddie pretends to hate. Maybe Steve should wear them today, just for the hell of it.

They chat until Robin has to head out to work. Neither of them call much attention to the fact that Steve is crushing on a guy, so Steve assumes his brain was right along.

It’s not a big deal. There’s so much more pressing matters at hand - like the fact that his crush doesn’t remember holding his hand all night long.

That’s way more pressing than crushing on dudes.

Eddie isn’t in his hospital bed.

Eddie isn’t in his room at all.

Those realizations clog Steve’s lungs until he feels them caving in. His mind is flooded with the time that Max wasn’t in her hospital room months ago. The time she coded and nobody fucking knew until they were all standing there in a Max-less room.

Steve slumps against the wall, the weight of his lungs and his premonitions are too heavy for him to stand straight. 

He’s about to crouch down, get his blood-flow to restart, when two nurses and Eddie walk through the door. They’re guiding him on either side, although he seems fairly stable on his own.

Steve is so relieved. Almost as relieved as the time Max came back after coding. Almost.

“You’re back.” It’s bordering on a question - the way Eddie says it.

“I got him,” Steve waves off the nurses. He takes Eddie’s left arm and holds it tight. Balancing both of them in entirely separate ways. The nurses thank him and he starts directing Eddie to the side of the bed. “Weird to see you standing again.”

He hasn’t seen Eddie upright since… 

Steve clears his throat. “You definitely look…” Hot. “Taller than I remember.”

While that’s vaguely true, it is definitely not at the forefront of Steve’s mind. He's touching Eddie again, not in a bed and not to detach all his hospital machinery. He’s just touching him, keeping him steady with his arms, and it’s so fucking nice.

They take a few more steps and the sleeves on Eddie’s hospital gown slips off his shoulder. Steve cannot look away. There’s a gray-ish bruise right on top, extending down to Eddie’s shoulder blade. It’s been healing for months and it’s still discolored. Steve is fixated on the shadowy hue, how Eddie’s pale skin almost glows underneath it. 

If Steve’s hands weren’t busy being helpful right now, he’d touch it. Watch the colors ripple under the pad of his finger.

“Well… glad to refresh your memories then.” Eddie tugs the sleeve back up, covering the patchwork skin that Steve couldn’t stop staring at. “But isn’t that your job? To refresh my impoverished frontal lobe?”

Steve redirects his focus. “Impoverished Frontal Lobe would make a good band name.”

“Shit, you’re so right. Dibs.”

“You already have a band, dumbass.”

“True - but every lead guitarist needs a backup band name. Everyone knows that. Fallouts are a disease to the music industry.”

Eddie remembers he plays guitar. Not accordion.

“You can have Impoverished Frontal Lobe if I can have Hometown Slut.” Steve shrugs to one side.

“Can’t have what’s already yours, Stevie.”

Steve finally releases Eddie’s arm, no reason to still be holding it. No medical reason anyways. He catches himself smiling at the natural return of their banter. Even though Steve left, his attraction to Eddie didn’t budge one goddamn inch.

Picking up the visitation routine is easy. Steve settles into the same well-worn chair, turns on the same daytime tv shows, chews the same minty gum that Sam leaves for him at the check-in desk. It’s all the same. As things should be.

Where Steve is supposed to be.

“It’s good to see you again.” The phrase - Eddie’s words - it all reminds Steve of holding shells up to his ears at the beach. “Sorta got used to you being here.” If Steve listens close enough, there’s an I missed you somewhere inside.

“Same.” There’s an I missed you too inside Steve’s words as well.

“And since your back…” Eddie does a drumroll over his thighs. “I can give you your gift.”

“You didn’t mention on the phone that this was a gift.”

“Thought it was implied.” Eddie bends down, drags a basket out from under his hospital bed. He pushes it over to Steve’s chair. “Here.”

Steve is beaming right away because it’s so tacky and gaudy, all synonyms that relate to Eddie. The basket is painted gold, sort of cracking around the splinters of wood. It’s oversized - much bigger than it needs to be for the items sitting inside of it. The clear plastic around it has a silvery glint and it’s so fucking noisy when he moves it around.

It’s not something Steve would’ve ever picked out to give as a gift. But the whole thing screams Eddie Munson, which makes it perfect.

“Yeah yeah, I know. It’s just one of the baskets from the hospital gift shop.” Eddie gestures broadly around the present, smacking the crinkly plastic a few times. “But I emptied out all of the lousy shit. Even replaced it with all of your vending machine preferences.”

It’s a gentle jab at Steve’s vending machine metaphor from last week. The basket is stacked with Steve’s favorite chips and candy - the ones he still chooses week after week.

Eddie remembers that Steve loves Utz potato chips and Junior Mints.

There’s a few sodas thrown in there too. The bottom layer is littered with the sugar packets that Steve hoards for his cafeteria coffee breaks.

But underneath all the snacks and sugar and sodas, there’s a card. It says ‘Feel Better Soon’ on the front.

“Oh yeah, that came with the basket.” Eddie flicks at the edge of the card. 

The greeting card hits Steve harder than it should. Eddie has no memory of all the monstrous fuckery Steve has witnessed. So, he can’t even begin to know how much Steve needed that silly little reminder. That Steve needs to get well soon, feel better, hang in there. All of those corny sayings, Steve needs all of them.

“I did write something in it though.”

Steve’s eyes shift up to Eddie. “You did?”

Eddie nods. “Didn’t know if you’d wanna talk to me again after last week.”

Eddie still remembers Steve storming out on Monday. (It’s the first time Steve wishes Eddie would forget something.)

Steve opens the card, but Eddie leans over to grab it out of his hands.

“Don’t read it here.” Eddie fans himself with the card. His hair wisps around, reminds Steve of a windstorm. “Even the freak is susceptible to the occasional embarrassment, okay?”

Steve gives Eddie a thumbs up and looks back over the items. None of them are expensive or luxurious or anything like. It’s all stuff Eddie could scavenge around for. But all of it is thoughtful. Significant. 

“So… how are the memories?” Steve asks.

Eddie fills him in while they munch on their mountain of goodies. Music is still the strongest remedy. He tells Steve that if finishes physical therapy, he’ll be approved to play his guitar. Both of them are hopeful that will help unlock his past even more.

Steve pokes fun that Eddie always skipped gym class. He bets Eddie twenty bucks that he’ll play hookie at least once.

Eddie says ‘make it fourty.’ They shake hands on it.

They catch up and get stomachaches from all of the artificially sweetened crap they just ingested. Or maybe they just feel sick from laughing at all the stupid infomercials on tv. Whatever it is, they’re both sore and smiling by the end of the day.

“Guess I should head out.” Steve can already see the gears turning in Eddie’s head, wondering if he’ll be back. “Cool if I return to my usual schedule?”

Eddie’s chest falls. His shoulders relax. “As long as it’s not out of pity.”

“I don’t pity you, Eds.” Steve says. “The nurses, however…”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. You’ve made your point, dickwad.”

Steve can’t bring himself to hold Eddie’s hand, not really sure why. Things have been mended, but maybe not enough. Maybe it’s all still too fresh.

Instead, Steve rubs the material of Eddie’s blanket. He smooths it out between his fingers, imagining that it’s the material of Eddie’s hospital gown.

Steve’s eyes stay on the fabric in his hands. “If you remember anything after you took that new headache medicine… you’ll tell me, right?”

Eddie knocks his knuckles onto Steve’s hand. Steve lets the fabric go. He looks at Eddie, who is happier now. Warmer.

“Definitely.”

“Good.”

Steve doesn’t wait to read Eddie’s letter. He flips open the card as soon as he gets in his car.

The handwriting is pretty terrible, similar to all of Eddie’s arm scribbles. But Steve must’ve developed an overnight supernatural ability to decode Eddie Munson’s illegible penmanship because he can read every word perfectly:

Steve, The card says ‘Feel Better,’ but that seems insufficient. Just better? Nah. That doesn’t cover all the bases (look see? I threw in a sports term just for you, champ). A trust-fund catalog model that spends the majority of his week with a metalhead who has an affinity for nerd shit? No way. That kind of person deserves so much more than feeling better.  You deserve to feel worthwhile. Yours truly, Eddie/Kathy/Hyde/Grendel/HSN Conspiracy Theorist ps. Sorry I’m so bad at simple apologies. Everything has to be torturously difficult with me, which you already know. pps. Well shit. I never even said it properly.  I’m sorry.

Steve is overwhelmed by all of it. Even Eddie’s little doodles on the back cover are causing him shortness of breath.

It’s a sloppy skyline of mixtape-skyscrapers. The tallest one is directly in the middle. Sprawled across the bottom is the word ‘Munsonopolis,’and in quotations underneath it says, ‘featuring the Ed-pire State Building.’ There’s an exaggerated amount of arrows pointing at the one in the middle - just in case it wasn’t clear which one is the featured tower.

Not subtle, that one.

Steve is vibrating with energy the whole drive home. Eddie made so many references to past memories in that letter. Some were running jokes, sure. But others? The trust-fund dig? The sports joke? Steve has so many bullet points to add to the binder. So many things to notate. So much fucking progress.

But he doesn’t write down any of it. Instead, he staples the card to the notebook paper labeled ‘Day 66.’ Everything he’s ever needed to know is in that card. That ironically perfect card.

And it the faintest penciling, Steve writes one bullet for himself:

Robin was right. Definitely think I’m falling for him.

Day 67:

“Apology accepted, by the way.” Steve tosses a jello cup onto Eddie’s table. He snagged one at the cafeteria on his way in - just so Eddie doesn’t wrongfully assume he wanted pudding yet again. 

Is it cheating to give away the answers? Yeah. But Steve is falling for this guy, so he’d buy an entire fucking factory of gelatin if Eddie requested it.

“So you read the card?” Eddie viciously tears open the jello lid. Sniffs it. Weird.

Eddie remembers writing Steve the letter.

“Read it. Marinated on it. Read it again.” Steve automatically moves the chair close to the bed. Fuck distance. “Maybe I should make deep annotations on my upcoming reread.”

Eddie grumbles. “Is this how it feels when I tease you about jock shit all the time?”

Eddie remembers their banter. Huh.

“Sure does.” And I’m totally obsessed with it.

“Are you willing to change topics?”

Steve peers over to examine Eddie’s mixtape collection. A sideways grin takes over his face. “Wanna tell me why my mixtape is at the top of the pile over there?”

“Uh…” Eddie whips his head over to the tower. “You know what - the apology card mockery wasn’t so bad after all.”

“Oh really?”

“In fact, I enjoyed it.”

Steve teases Eddie for the rest of their visit, completely unforgiving about it. Payback for two months of this.

He’s pretty sure Eddie likes it more than he does.

Day 68:

Eddie is in and out of the room for physical therapy today. Steve is unfazed by the lack of quality time because any time Eddie does return, Steve gets to help him to his bed. Gets to touch Eddie’s arm, his back. Sometimes his shoulder. 

It’s becoming Steve’s hospital equivalent to the whole, ‘yawn and stretch’ move from all those movie theater dates.

“You don’t have to do this, Steve.” Eddie says it every time. “I can walk eight feet on my own.”

“Just in case…” which directly translates to, I want to do this.

Steve asks the same question at the end of every visit now:

“Call me if you remember.”

And Eddie always assures him that he will.

Day 69:

They are playing cards when Eddie brings it up. “What if I never remember?”

“Remember what?” Steve discards one of his cards to the pile. Grabs a new one from the deck. 

“The thing that makes you all twitchy at the end of every visit.” Eddie does his best twitchy-Steve impression. It’s insulting, at best. “What if it doesn’t come back?”

“It’ll come back.” Steve is so sure of it. Easygoing.

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“How original.”

Steve flips his cards down on the table. He reaches down to the binder that’s an extension of his determination these days, flips through the pages. Pages full of breakthroughs. Even on the lousy days, even when Eddie occasionally backtracks. The pages are still full.

“This is how I know.” Steve holds Eddie’s eye contact after shutting the binder. “I see the progress. It’s not linear, not all the time… but I see it.”

Eddie reaches out. Runs his fingers across the binder, back and forth. Steve stops him the third time, places his hand over Eddie’s. There’s a hitch in Eddie’s breathing when he does it, so Steve slides away, doesn’t linger too long. He listens in to the heart monitor’s cadence for insight on the mood they’ve created.

Not the same as last Saturday. Not the tempo Steve is looking for to take initiative. Not yet.

“I win, by the way.” Eddie announces, flipping his cards over. Smiling that bonus type of smile.

“Damn right you do.”

Day 70:

Eddie is singing one of Steve’s mixtape songs, using his thermometer as a microphone. It’s purposely off-key and he’s implemented some exaggerated accent to it. 

This isn’t the first time he’s done this demented-karaoke routine. In fact, Steve has had to suffer through Eddie butchering pop classics since Day 26 of these hospital visits.

He always does it to get Steve to crack - lose his temper or threaten to leave. Steve usually humors Eddie with one of these reactions because it’s fun. It’s a lighthearted habit that they formed after hard days. Pain infested days.

But this week has been good. Surprisingly adequate. Steve is back and Eddie hasn’t thrown up, not once. He only complained about the flavorless cafeteria food on Tuesday, instead of every other day. That alone is an immediate call for celebration.

So today… Steve doesn’t stomp his foot or swear under his breath. Today Steve claps. Encourages the mediocrity of it all.

“Oh, so you like it when I vocally murder your precious pop tunes?” Eddie laughs. Constantly making himself laugh.

“No, I don’t like it.” Steve folds his arms into his chest. Eddie’s laughter is contagious, Steve catches it as he speaks again. “I like you.”

Eddie’s mouth clamps up. His expression drops. His heart monitor skips two beeps in its pattern.

“Can’t believe I finally found the off-button on you.” Steve glides over to the bed. The upperhand is making him fucking fearless. “Only took me seventy days to find it.”

Steve swipes his thumb under Eddie’s jaw, watching his throat muscles tense at the pressure. Eddie gulps, barely anything goes down. Steve can feel that.

“I…” 

“Don’t tell me what you think I wanna hear.” Steve checks the clock. Visiting hours ended four minutes ago, and he doesn’t need to get himself into another spending the night incident. As much as he enjoyed the wake-up call, Steve fucking despised the aftermath of reality.

“Steve…” The way he says Steve’s name - as if someone took his vocal cords and dipped them in sweetener.

“I gotta go.” Steve reaches down and squeezes Eddie’s hand one more time before releasing it. “Call me if you remember.”

He turns around to leave, but Eddie hooks his finger into Steve’s belt loop, tugs rapidly on it. Steve’s cheeks flush right away, he can’t even hide it.

“What if I call you anyway?” Eddie plays along. “Memory or no memory?”

Steve removes Eddie’s hand. He’s about to set it back down when the last bit of caution is finally thrown out the window. Steve lays a quick kiss on Eddie’s middle finger, the finger that’s most injured. He squeezes his palm once, then returns Eddie’s hand back to him.

“Maybe I’ll call you first, Munson.”

He leaves before getting a good look at Eddie’s reception to the hand kiss. Steve has never kissed another dude’s hand before, and there’s a good possibility that he might’ve been laying the charm on too thick. Smearing it all over the moment like goddamn jelly. 

But the whole thing was just too irresistible. And Fully Flustered Eddie is a rare sight to behold, so Steve had to do something charismatic. His self-discipline hasn’t improved that much since high school.

Eddie ends up calling first. He calls nine minutes after Steve gets home.

Clingy bastard.

“Beat you to it, Harrington.”

“Not everything is competition, you know.”

“Is that so?” Eddie’s sarcasm is heavy. “Huh. Guess you do learn something new every day.”

“Easy for you to say. Your mind still has the training wheels on it.”

“Touché.”

Day 71:

It’s Saturday morning. Steve sleeps in - well, Steve does his version of sleeping in. Which basically means, the sun is fully up by the time he wakes up. Small victories.

His phone and alarm clock go off almost simultaneously. Which one: freaky. And two: annoying.

He walks over to his desk, eyes half-open, and picks up the phone.

“Hello?” Steve’s voice croaks into the speaker.

There’s no response, just a few heavy breaths.

Steve is more alert now. “Who is this?”

“I remember.”

Oh fuck. “Eddie?”

“You told me to call when I remember.” Eddie repeats. “I remember, Steve.”

“Holy shit um… okay.” Steve rubs the last bit of sleep from his eyes. Searches around his room for his keys or clothes or fuck - he really doesn’t know what he’s searching for. 

“You coming to see me or what?”

“It’s Saturday. Henderson comes to see you on Saturdays.”

“Call and tell him to take a raincheck.” Eddie demands. Rightfully excited. “Cause I fucking remember.”

“Okay, okay.”

“I remember!”

Steve is cackling at the excitement. “I fucking heard you!”

“Get your ass over here before I say it again!”

“Alright alright!” Steve hangs up. Never gets ready so fast in his whole damn life. Almost forgets to put on underwear or style his hair.

This is what he’s been waiting for.

Eddie remembers.

It’s the first time Steve feels anxious walking into the room. He’s keenly aware that both of them are in on the secret. No more whispering around the unrequited attraction. Steve is entering a space that is laid bare. No curtains or subtle implications for either of them to hide behind.

As soon as he opens the door, that’s all in the past.

“Oh shit.” Steve isn’t expecting to see Eddie in the chair when he arrives. He’s wearing gray sweatpants under his hospital gown. Steve is pretty thankful for that - not sure the effect that Eddie’s exposed thighs would have on him in this detrimental state.

“Took your seat.” Eddie is all smug. Head to toe smugness.

“I see that.”

“You can take mine, if you want.”

“I’ll pass.”

Eddie winks. “Hope that’s the last time I hear you say that today.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

There’s a stool that the doctors use in the corner of the room. Steve takes a seat on it and rolls over towards Eddie. He stops right in front of Eddie's knees and leans his face in his hand. Tries to downplay his anticipation as much as possible.

“Wanna tell me what you remember?”

Eddie takes a deep breath. He swings his arms out to the side and lets all of his air out in one go. “My tattoos - I remember when I got them.”

Steve’s shoulders drop. Shrink.

The tattoo thing happened several days before the almost-kiss. Day 52.

“Am I wrong?” 

Steve doesn’t really say anything. That’s confirmation enough.

Eddie smacks the top of his head. “Shit, I’m wrong. Made you drive all the way out here to be wrong, jesus christ.”

“Hey, hey.” Steve murmurs, keeps his voice kind. “Not��entirely wrong.”

His heart feels likes a crunched-up soda can, but whatever. Yeah, Steve’s hope were set way too high, but he can’t blame Eddie for that. Eddie regained some crucial memories - that should be a good thing. It is a good thing.

“Tell me about the tattoos.” Steve rests his hand over Eddie’s knee. It’s been bouncing incessantly, but stops the second Steve touches him. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and uncover all of it by talking through it.”

“Seems stupid now.”

“Hey.” Steve is stern. “Gaining bits of yourself back is never stupid. That’s your fucking history, goddamnit.”

Steve doesn’t mean to use his coaching voice, but he does. 

It works though. Eddie stares at him for a long time before admitting that Steve is right. He gives a long sigh before continuing. “I know where and when I got all of them.”

“Fantastic.” Steve gets as comfy as he can on this small, metal stool. He flips open the binder, clicks his pen. He flips it into the air - just cause.

“Tell me all about it,” He says, catching the pen with ease.

Eddie starts out pretty deflated. He starts off in chronological order, which Steve is impressed by. Steve even tries to cheer Eddie along any time he recalls specific details like locations and dates. 

The support seems useful. Eddie stops frowning long enough to retell the story about getting a fake ID, just for tattoos. Not for drinking or for getting into clubs. Eddie wanted to be the only sophomore with tattoos.

Steve has never been interested in getting tattoos, there’s nothing he’s ever liked enough to prick needles into his skin. However, he really likes seeing them all over Eddie. All the dark lines and the passionate stories that go with them. 

They take a lunch break and snack break, both of them equally improving Eddie’s crabby mood. Eddie gets sort of winded after talking for too long, so Steve helps him to the bed.

“You don’t have to do this.” Eddie says, sticking to his usual response.

“Thought it was obvious” Steve pulls the cover over Eddie’s arms, fluffs out the sides of his pillows. “I want to.”

“Didn’t know you were such a gentleman.” Eddie observes. “Courting the sickly is a weird move though.”

Steve takes his seat back, moving it next to Eddie’s bed. Always closing more distance than he did the last time. “Good thing you’re not sickly then.”

“Courting the freak is still a weird move.”

“Well, say the word and I’ll lay off.”

Eddie mimes zipping his mouth shut, tossing the invisible key into the trash bin.

“Looks like we’re all done with your tattoo summaries.” Steve glances over the bullet points, folds the binder shut. “Anything else you wanna do?”

He’s waiting for Eddie to take his turn. Steve has been leading the affection for days, so he’s cautious about any further touching. Needs physical permission to continue.

“Actually…” Eddie shakes his head. “We’re not done with my tattoo summaries.”

“We’re not?”

“I have six tattoos, Stevie. Not five.”

That can’t be right. Dustin told Steve all about Eddie’s tattoos weeks ago. This must be Eddie’s mind messing with him.

“My memory isn’t faulty, not this time.” Eddie taps over the binder before yanking it away. “I do have another tattoo, Stevie. You’ve just never seen it.”

This dirty chess game just got way more interesting. 

There’s no point in playing it safe now. Both of them are taking risks, playing offensively. All guards are down, miles away from Indiana.

“Prove it, then.” Steve’s cheeks warm up. He can feel the blood all over, in his ears, in the tip of his nose. “Show me.”

Eddie’s teeth look sharper when he smiles this time. Like Steve’s dare has turned his bones into blades.

“Are you gonna wig out if I lift this stupid gown up?”

Yes. Steve would never admit that, but yeah. Internally, he’s wigging out so fucking hard right now.

“You’ve puked all over me, dude. If I didn’t haul ass after that, I’m not gonna haul ass after seeing your skin.”

Eddie glares at him. “Could’ve just said no, but whatever. Be a smart ass.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Eddie twists onto his side, bunching up the material and settling it under his arms. Right over his rib cage, is the sixth tattoo.

It’s a birdcage, one that’s been mangled. The metal bars are all crooked and the cage door is wide open. One of Eddie’s demobat scars goes diagonally through the body art, like those creatures were the ones to slash it open. Destroying Eddie’s body in a multitude of ways.

Steve wants to touch it, feel the healing claw marks that look so much like his own, but deeper. He hides his own scars every day with sweaters and jackets, so it’s easy to forget how connected they are. How much pain they are forced to wear. Mutated skin and mutilated minds.

One battle with death and darkness has made them more alike than society ever would have.

“Where’s the bird?” Steve finally asks, mainly to stop his hand from reaching over, brushing the black lines and red scars.

“Didn’t have a chance to get it done.”

“No?”

Eddie contorts his face. “I got this part done back in January. And I was planning to get the bird inked up on the opposite side once I graduated…” 

The last word gets all strangled in Eddie’s throat. Steve barely hears it, doesn’t really need to hear it though. He figures it out by the way Eddie’s hands become fists. How he screws his eyes shut, refusing to let the anger fuel his tears.

Steve gets it. Most of his anger turns to sadness these days too. He knows he’s not a weak person, he knows that. But when those two emotions whisk themselves into a twister, Steve feels puny. Pathetic.

He lets his fingers circle the birdcage design on Eddie’s ribs. A cage on top of another cage. He’s pretty sure Eddie did that on purpose - the guy is obsessed with wordplay. Steve makes a spiral shaper over Eddie’s skin, letting the pattern get smaller and smaller as he reaches the center of the design.

Eddie just watches him do it, Steve can feel the stare, the attention. His breathing is shallow, almost stopped. Almost like he’s holding his breath until Steve finishes whatever he’s doing.

“It suits you.” Steve says, moving his palm over to the scar now. Letting the damaged parts of Eddie receive just as much recognition as the tattoo. Eddie didn’t choose to have these markings, but it doesn’t matter. They’re here now. May as well acknowledge them. Engrave them into his history.

“The tattoo?”

Steve looks up. “All of it.”

“Steve.” Eddie tugs on Steve's arm, nails digging in harder than they need to. He almost makes the gesture feel like a question.

Steve answers it. He sits on the edge of the bed and settles one arm over Eddie’s body for support.

This is exactly where they were one week ago. Sharing the same breath, sharing the same tension.

But the resemblance to their sleep-driven moment from last week stops there. They’ve constructed something new, better. There’s anguish from the past and there’s breakable desire for their present. Last week was surreal, dreamy. This week is unrefined.

Steve can’t comprehend why he likes the rawness of today so much more.

“Am I reading this wrong?” Eddie’s hand lifts up to Steve’s cheek, thumb stroking the corner of his lips.

Steve chuckles, whisper-level laughter. “You’re stealing all of my moves here, Munson.”

"What moves?"

"I said the same thing last week."

“Wait.” Eddie’s huge eyes somehow defy science. Get bigger. “That wasn’t a dream?”

“What wasn’t a dream?” 

“That really happened?”

Steve is only half listening. “What are you talking about?”

“Well.. almost happened, I guess I should say.” Eddie is starting to ramble. "The nurses told me that I was having batshit crazy dreams all weekend long. I just assumed there was no way that could've been real."

“Can you please tell me what we’re talking about?”

Eddie is grinning, bouncing in the bed like a spring-loaded toy. “I can’t believe I thought it was a dream this whole fucking week!”

“For the love of god, Munson. Just tell me what happened in this stupid dream!”

Eddie cups Steve’s face and pulls him into a kiss. Kisses the glower right off Steve’s mouth. It only takes a split-second for Steve to react, leaning into it. Steve controls the pace to keep everything soft for Eddie’s sake. Calm hands, smooth lips, slow movements.

There’s a small cut on Eddie’s upper lip, Steve can finally feel it now. He opens his mouth enough to lick over it. Pay extra care to the fragile parts.

Eddie whines a little, his hands dropping to Steve’s collar, dragging him into his chest. Steve lets him, lets the kiss get rougher. Sloppier.

It’s clear that Eddie does not share Steve’s careful approach. He’s so grabby, so possessive. His teeth mash into Steve’s bottom lip. He takes the opportunity to bite and tug, makes Steve yelp. Teeth and kissing is usually a turn off, but god, Steve is obsessed with how Eddie does it. How greedy he is.

Steve dips his mouth in, opens up enough to let Eddie bite and lick as much as he pleases. Be greedy. His free hand is planted on Eddie’s waist, just above his bird cage tattoo. 

“Come here.” Eddie’s breath is warm, tinged with the chocolate they had on their snack break. He’s pulling Steve harder now, never breaking the kiss for long.

Steve scoots another inch, slides his hand all the way up to Eddie’s neck. “If I get any closer, I’ll be on top of you.”

“I know how physics works, Harrington.” 

“Your super-senior status says otherwise.”

“Please, shut up.” Eddie kisses him harder. His skin is extra pink everywhere Steve has pressed against him. For someone that kisses so madly, he looks so soft. Fresh-laundry soft. “Closer, baby.”

Steve sucks all of the air out of the kiss, totally startled by the nickname. He makes a sound, hopefully nothing too whorish or breathy. But Eddie definitely heard it because he’s smiling against Steve’s lips. 

Getting closer isn’t really an option with all of the wires and the unlocked door. So Steve drags his lips under Eddie’s jaw, down his neck. Improvises a way to feel closer, explore deeper.

“Holy shit, you’re good at this.” Eddie hisses, tangling his hands into Steve’s hair. 

Getting compliments on his kissing technique makes Steve preen, has to fight the urge to mark up Eddie’s already bruised neck. Explaining fresh hickies to an army of doctors would not be a pleasant task. So Steve flattens his tongue, runs it diagonally across Eddie’s collarbone. Pecks kisses over all the wet spots.

Eddie’s hands drift down to Steve’s chin, lifting his focus back up. “Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re just…” Eddie’s eyes dart all over Steve’s face. He's breathing hard, his heart monitor and his pulse are at war right now. So many rhythms in their shared space. “You’re very pretty.”

“You think so?”

“The universe thinks so.” Eddie kisses Steve’s cheek - feels like tiny embers over his skin. “I’m just confirming it.”

Steve smiles, takes a minute to catch his breath. He’s finally realizing how little he’s been breathing for the last few minutes. His lungs ache the way they would after swim meets.  Rattled and burning.

"I like you too, by the way." Eddie kisses Steve’s other cheek, makes it even. “Just to clear things up.”

Eddie remembers Steve spilling his heart out yesterday.

“Consider things clear.” Steve laces their fingers together, under Eddie’s blanket. Each of them staring at the connection, both highly aware it means so much more than helpless support this time.

It means absolutely everything.

Steve’s back in the stupid chair that will never be close enough to Eddie. They lower Eddie’s bed so that Steve can rest his elbow on the side, play with Eddie’s hair just like he did with Steve last week.

He’s infatuated with how different their hair textures feel. Eddie’s hair is all frazzled and knotted. Still soft, but not like Steve’s hair. If Steve’s hair is cashmere, Eddie’s hair is woven wool.

“So you thought last Saturday was a dream, huh?” Steve questions.

“I have some crazy vivid dreams.”

Steve shakes his head. “But all that stuff I said to you. Why did you act so confused?”

“The headache medication knocked me out.” Eddie explains. “I thought you heard me talking in my sleep… saying embarrassing shit and you and your hair.”

“So you thought I was mocking you?”

Eddie hums. Very hushed.

Steve untangles his hand from Eddie’s head and sighs. “You should’ve just told me what you were thinking.”

“I know that now.”

“We could’ve been making out all week.”

“Guess we should make up for lost time then.” Eddie hooks his index finger into Steve’s sweater, tugging him closer. Always tugging.

Steve angles himself to meet Eddie in the middle, kissing him sweetly this time, less urgency. Eddie’s lips are still puffy from Steve sucking on them. He wants to do it all over again, keep them puffed-out and swollen.

The kiss is so slow and so good, that Steve only breaks away when his neck muscles start to tighten up. Too many awkward kissing positions in this hospital room - Steve wants to get Eddie into his car or his bed. The floor might be good too.

“So,” Steve threads their hands back together. “Care to fill me in on your little ‘later, sailor’ comment from last week?”

“You did work at the finest ice cream chain to ever grace Hawkins, did you not?” Eddie retorts.

“Yeah. But of all things, how did you remember that?”

Eddie pokes to the top of Steve’s head with his free hand.

“My hair?”

“Your hairspray or product or whatever you use.” Eddie ruffles it and Steve tries not to become liquid at the touch. “Apparently smells can trigger memories almost instantly.”

“Woah.” Steve makes a mental note on that.

“Very woah.”

“And what about… the club?”

“What club? Hellfire?”

“No, not Hellfire.” Steve playfully pinches the inside of Eddie's palm. “The Below Deck club.”

“Fucking hell, you know about that?” Eddie covers his face. “Somebody please, end my suffering. I can’t go on. Not like this.” 

Steve is cackling now, keeling over in his chair, almost tearing up from how much he’s laughing. And each time Eddie tells him to knock it off, he laughs harder. This is a better ab workout than he’s ever had at the gym, he should just cancel his fucking membership.

“All I’m hearing is that my ass is unforgettable.” Steve wipes a laughter-induced tear from his eye.

“Cruel.” Eddie mumbles into his hands. “This humiliation is cruel.”

Steve flips back onto the bed, yanking Eddie’s wrists away from his face. “It’s hot.”

“Drooling over an ice cream employee is hot?”

“You drooled?”

“Dear god, stop this madness.” Eddie grabs the tv remote and aims it at his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to rewind my mouth from saying stupid shit.”

“Eddie, chill out.” Steve takes the remote, hiding it behind his back. “I’m just glad you remember me. Even if my ass is the most memorable feature.”

“These are pretty memorable too.” Eddie smushes Steve’s cheeks, forces his lips to pucker out.

“Oh yeah?”

“And these.” Eddie squeezes Steve’s biceps. Steve rolls his eyes and wraps Eddie’s arms around him. 

They fall back into a long kiss. Visiting hours are about to end, and Sam is off on the weekends. No one is here to let Steve stay the night. So he kisses Eddie like time isn’t a factor. Steve kisses him slow and nice. Eats up any sugary sounds that leave Eddie’s mouth. Whispers how crazy he is about him any time they come up for air.

“I wish you could stay.”

Steve’s heart rips around the edges hearing Eddie say that. Christ, he wants to stay too. So fucking badly. Wants to stock up on chapstick and water so they can make out all night.

“Maybe I can come back tomorrow?” Steve suggests. “Give your bandmates the day off?”

Eddie nods, nuzzles into the crook of Steve’s neck. “Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“What if I forget about this?”

Steve hugs Eddie tighter. “Don’t say that.”

“It could happen.” Eddie peers up at him. “Fuck, I don’t want it to happen, but it could.”

“Hey hey, stop it.” Steve clicks their foreheads together and closes his eyes.

He can’t lie. He can’t tell Eddie that forgetting is impossible. But Steve can keep his eyes closed and savor every minute of today. He can hold Eddie’s kiss-warm cheeks and just hope that everything will be okay tomorrow.

Steve opens his eyes. He sees the Hawkins senior-class ring on his hand, and it gives him an idea.

“Here.” Steve plucks the ring off of his left index finger. He leans over and places it in Eddie’s drawer, right next to his dice collection. “If you remember what happened tonight, you’ll know where that ring is. Put it on tomorrow, so I can visually know that you didn’t forget. So I know it’s okay to come in here and kiss you stupid some more.”

"Like this?" Eddie kisses Steve noisily and they laugh, ignoring the shitty alternative for just a minute longer.

“And if I come in and you don’t have it on… well, I’ll be on my best behavior.” Steve gets up from the bed, crosses his fingers over his heart. “No surprise make out sessions or lewd comments, I swear.”

“You’ll be okay with that?”

That’s a tricky question, Steve doesn’t have a ‘yes or no’ answer to it. He’ll be disappointed, that’s undeniable. But he’s so far into this with Eddie. The notes and the recovery and the feelings. Everything is netted together. Steve couldn’t separate it even if he tried.

“I meant what I said yesterday. I like you, Eds.” Steve puts on a brave smile. 

“So yeah. If you forget, then it’ll be a pleasure to restart with you.”

Steve swipes Eddie’s bangs to the side so that he can give him a kiss right in the center of his forehead. Kissing the place where all of Eddie’s memories are tucked away, even the lost ones. Wishing and aching for the memories of tonight to lock into that place, stay safe and secure. 

Just stay.

Don’t get lost in there.

Please.

[sercezgazety]

The time is just after ten p.m., a bit early to be done with the dinner already, but it was nothing fancy, and the restaurant was awfully loud. They both agreed that there was no point getting dessert when there were much more fun ways of spending the evening.

The place: the interior of Dan’s car, somewhere in the middle of the road between Arkham and Dunwich where Lana lives. She said the commute was not that long, though that was back when they were laughing, and the table was hiding the foot she had on Dan’s lap. Now, the drive seems unbearably long, and Dan grinds his teeth in order not to swear out loud. That certainly wouldn’t improve the situation.

Lana is sitting next to him, tight-lipped and sweating. A minute or so ago, Dan tried to tell a joke. Before he got to the punchline, she gave a shrill, terrified laugh that told him beyond any doubt the evening was not salvageable. So. No stopping by at her place. It would be really weird if it were any other way, to be honest. It’s a miracle Lana still hasn’t pepper-sprayed him the moment she noticed the blood stains.

How did Dan miss them, anyway? He was cleaning the upholstery just yesterday, specifically for the occasion, and he could have sworn he didn’t miss a spot. They must have sprung into existence overnight, unless.

Unless Herbert put something in the car, and then took it out before Dan came back. And yeah, now that he tries to discreetly glance at the door, there are claw marks next to the latch. Lana, judging by the way she’s clutching her purse, has already noticed them.

Dan told him he cleaned the car specifically because he was going out that night. He couldn’t just store whatever body part that was — probably something with fingernails, but in case of Herbert’s experiments, that doesn’t necessarily mean it was a hand. Couldn’t store it somewhere else just this once, could he. What a dick.

Dan decides to break the silence again by offering Lana some chewing gum. He really shouldn’t have done so because the moment he opens the glove compartment, he finds an ear in there. An honest to God, entire human ear, concha and all. It has piercings in it.

What a perfect place to store an ear. Easy to reach when the need for a severed body part arises. Very handy.

He smashes the compartment closed immediately, and he thinks Lana didn’t get a look, but that’s mostly because she’s not screaming. She just stares ahead, an unnaturally polite smile plastered on her face.

“I think—I think, uh. That’s where I jump off,” she tells him the very second they pass the sign saying they’ve entered Dunwich. Some lights are shining in the distance, but they’re pretty far away. On both sides of the road, there’s nothing but empty fields.

“You sure?” Dan tries, even though he knows he shouldn’t. “Seems like an awful long walk. You said you lived near the center, right?”

Calling a town like Dunwich something with a center is generous. So is calling it a town. But there sure is a difference between the part that has buildings and people in it, and the absolute middle of nowhere. There’s a hill a bit to the right, and there are some weird shapes on it. Dan remembers someone at Miskatonic telling him about those. Standing stones or something like that, probably pretty interesting when you’re into this sort of thing. But also creepy as shit, especially when it’s dark.

He still doesn’t stop the car. He feels terrible about this, but he’s not going to let Lana walk all the way to town in the middle of the night and in this kind of shoes. Granted, she’s terrified now, but it’s not like she’s facing any real danger. If he lets her into the night, she might be.

“Yeah,” she says, and she’s doing a poor job at hiding the tremor in her voice. “But I have a friend nearby, and can you believe it? I forgot I promised her I’d drop by tonight!”

Dan can’t believe it, but he’s not an asshole, so he just nods. The buildings are closer now, and in a minute, they are going to be somewhere that might actually have electric light.

“Okay, I can drop you off by her house,” he offers gallantly because he has no idea what else to say without actively acknowledging that the inside of his car looks like a murder scene. Then, he bares his teeth in the most reassuring smile he can muster.

“No!” Lana shrieks, and they both cringe at that. “No,” she repeats, this time much quieter, and then gives some sort of a bark that was probably supposed to be laughter. “That’s alright, really. You’ve already wasted enough time, you know. I can walk from here.”

The nearest building is a couple yards away. Dan would prefer to drive for a moment longer, just to make sure no one drags Lana into the darkness, screaming, but she’s already unbuckled her seatbelt. He stops with a heavy sigh, aware that if he didn’t, she might jump out of the moving vehicle.

She doesn’t say goodbye, just opens the door and leaves, the purse all but forgotten on the car seat. She doesn’t break into a sprint either, not right away at least. Dan thinks he saw her take off her shoes as he turned the car around and headed back to Arkham.

So now the time is a quarter to midnight. The place: Dan’s room, but only physically. Mentally, he’s somewhere else, not entirely certain where, but it sure as hell doesn’t smell of stale coffee and sheets he hasn’t changed in weeks. It’s this weird amalgam of numerous bedrooms he’s seen, or maybe a motel room, the details are hazy. It’s not like they’re important. The important thing is the body writhing underneath Dan’s as his hand speeds up, the large breasts that bounce nicely, a mouth that pants and cries out, legs that are long, slender, and wrapped around his waist. The facial features of his partner shift from one nurse to another, and there are some models and one really pretty patient of Dan’s thrown into the mix. No Lana, though. He’d feel way too guilty about it afterwards.

He bites into his cheek to keep the noises down. There’s a sharp knock, and before he can answer, Herbert is already pushing the door open, leaving Dan just enough time to curl up and bring the blanket to his chin.

“Fridge went out,” he informs Dan without any preamble. “The kidneys are of no use.”

“What— what kidneys?” Dan sputters before the proper indignation sets in. “And haven’t you heard of knocking?”

Herbert visibly frowns at that. “I knocked.”

“But didn’t wait for an answer!”

“Hm,” is all the apology Dan gets. Herbert is still standing in the doorway, squinting in Dan’s general direction, but it’s not going to take much longer for his eyes to accommodate to the dimness of the room. “Either way, we need to get an auxiliary generator. We can’t continue losing perfectly good tissue like that.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dan grunts. “Tomorrow.”

Herbert just keeps standing there. Hovering.

“Well, obviously. Everything’s closed. It’s the middle of the night, Dan.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees. His dick gives a frustrating twitch instead of just going flaccid, and he would probably be asking himself what is wrong with him, were he not too busy wondering about what is wrong with his roommate. “Obviously.”

The infernal little man gives a curt nod, his head outlined by the light seeping in from the hallway. It doesn’t seem like he plans on leaving.

“Is that all?” Dan asks through gritted teeth.

Herbert, instead of taking a cue like any normal person would, takes two hesitant steps inside. “You’re home early,” he observes, and yeah, no shit. As if that wasn’t on him. “You said you’d be back in the morning.”

What else can Dan do but shrug, his hands still buried underneath the blanket. At this point, it would be just weird to take them out.

“I take it the date didn’t go well.” There’s not a hint of question in Herbert’s voice.

“Didn’t work out.”

“Odd,” he decides to comment instead of leaving. “She seemed your type.” He pauses, making a show of tapping a finger to his chin, trying to come up with anything to say about Lana. He settles on, “Had boobs.”

“Yeah, and I had a fucking human ear in the glove compartment,” Dan snaps back. “Care to explain how it landed itself there?”

“I haven’t got the faintest idea.”

Herbert is fidgeting, but sounds innocent. He never sounds innocent, unless he’s really trying to, and if he has to try, then, well…

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you.”

Herbert cocks his head to the side and carefully schools his features into confusion. “Did what on purpose?”

“Sabotage me like that! Cockblock, interfere, ruin the date, whatever you want to call it. You did it on purpose! Again!” Dan’s hands must have gotten free since he’s apparently waving them around in agitation. Thank God, the blanket remains where it was. “Do you get some sick pleasure out of it? Or do you just want me miserable so that you have someone to talk to?”

He should have seen it coming, but the click of the light switch still takes him by surprise. He blinks rapidly, and this way, Herbert, who was in a better-lit room just a minute ago, gets the upper hand. Well. Even more of it.

“Where is this coming from?” he asks, the very image of wounded innocence. Then, something shifts in his face, and for a second, it looks like he really is alarmed. “Dan, are you alright?” he asks, suddenly uncomfortably close. He does tend to pop up in unexpected places like a cat would. “You have a fever?”

Dan bats the hand away before Herbert manages to put it on his forehead. He was supposed to be feeling angry, not ashamed of himself.

It doesn’t stop Herbert from crouching down and staring into his face. They’re making eye contact. That’s what they’re doing now, that’s how the evening is apparently going.

“You’re flushed. Sweaty,” the man observes. “Your breathing’s labored. I’m not letting you near the lab in that state, you’re a walking health hazard. Are you experiencing any soreness? Did you contract something from that doxy?”

“Good, I wasn’t going to the la— wait, doxy? Seriously? What next, strumpet? Harlot?”

Herbert’s mouth forms a thin, bloodless line. “You’re right,” he agrees without even acknowledging what Dan actually said. “The incubation period is much longer, this must be something else. So what about the muscle soreness? Headache? Sore throat? Nausea?”

Dan can only shake his head, torn between screaming and bursting out with hysterical laughter, though granted, there is some nausea involved. When Herbert tries to take his pulse, he manages to wrangle his wrist away. From this close, he can see a speck of blood on his roommate’s cuff.

“I’m fine, Herbert.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“No, seriously.” The blush should have receded due to the mortification, and yet, Dan can feel it getting worse. At least he’s been able to get his breathing under control. “I’m fine.”

Herbert ignores him completely, fumbling through the pockets in order to produce a pen light, apparently intending to flash it right into Dan’s eyes.

“Herbert!”

Dan didn’t mean to shout, he really didn’t, but at least it gets the job done. West stops trying to pry his left eye open.

“Look. I’m fine. I’m not sick.” Dan gulps, unsure how to phrase it. “It’s all… natural. I just, uh. Need a couple more minutes to myself.”

Herbert freezes. He’d probably take a step back, had he not been crouching, but if Dan expected West to blush, he’d be disappointed. “Ah,” he just says, his face perfectly blank.

continue reading about Herbert making everything horribly awkward, and about Dan suffering in his very own personal hell here. there are puns! there are body parts!

[cacio-e-peppino]

Headcanons: Peppino Spaghetti

So, a big reason for me making this blog is that I wanted to share my headcanons for different characters! ... Particularly for Pizza Tower since I have a lot of headcanons for these characters that I don’t think would be very welcomed on other spaces. So, without further ado, let’s start with the man of the hour and my favorite character: Peppino Spaghetti. This man consumes 50% of my braincells at any given moment, so I have a lot of them. You can find them under the readmore ^^

Peppino is gay and trans. I like Peppino both being pre-op and post-op in terms of top surgery, and he's definitely on T.

Peppino is a first-generation American born to an Italian father and a Greek mother. They fled fascist WWII Italy when speakers of Greek were being persecuted (aka Peppino's mother) and settled somewhere vaguely in the New York City/New Jersey/Philadelphia area

Despite being born in America, Peppino still has a strong Italian accent! He learned how to speak Italian long before he learned how to speak English. He's trilingual and can speak three languages: Italian, English, and Greek. Italian and English are his two best languages. Sometimes he'll forget the word for something in one language and substitute it for the word in a different language instead

Peppino is autistic! His special interests include cooking and strategy games. He's a vestibular (i.e. movement and balance related stuff) sensory seeker who enjoys going really fast and climbing stuff. He also talks with his hands a lot, particularly since he's both autistic and Italian.

He also has some oral stims as well. For example, he likes to bite and chew things. For this reason, he can often be found carrying a pack of gum. He tries his best not to bite his hands since it's both considered a Sicilian insult (so he was frequently told to knock it off as a kid, that stuck with him) and because he doesn't think it's the healthiest behavior. Though, if he's really stressed, he'll bite his hand to calm down.

Spicy food is hit or miss for Peppino, most often miss. While he doesn't like hot wings, one of his favorite foods is Pepper Pizza- which is very spicy. He's very particular about spicy foods

Speaking of foods, Peppino's favorite food is unsurprisingly pizza. Even after the whole Pizza Tower incident, it remains his favorite food. Of course, while he likes many other Italian dishes, Peppino also really likes a lot of other Greek dishes too such as gyros and tomato fritters

Peppino fought in the Vietnam War. He wasn't drafted, but rather joined willingly as a display of masculinity (there was some household tension I think when Peppino first came out as trans, he didn't really understand nor care about the politics behind the war). Peppino was able to successfully get into the army using falsified documents and successfully hiding his feminine traits through techniques like upselling his Italian accent to mask his voice and explaining that he was just a bit out of shape to explain his larger than normal chest

The war was constant hell for Peppino. There was no safety to be found anywhere for him. Of course, the front lines are always dangerous. But, camp wasn't any safer for him. Peppino had to be very careful about hiding his identity as one slip up could have him ousted and sent back home shamed or worse. Additionally, an injury could out him to the medics too if needed medical treatment. So, to compensate for this, Peppino became the best fighter in his entire platoon. I think some people eventually figured him out, but didn't rat out Peppino because they knew they were safer with him around.

To his credit, Peppino was celebrated when he returned home and was recognized as a man by his family. Though, he got out of the army as soon as he could, and he ended up regretting joining in the first place since he was left with severe PTSD from the whole experience.

After the whole Pizza Tower incident, he ended up becoming friends with most of the Tower's inhabitants as he recognizes most of them didn't really work for Pizzahead and were instead manipulated some how into working for him. Though, Noise still bothers the shit out of him and he hates Pizzahead, doesn't like him at all.

Peppino feels this weird sense of responsibility for Fake Peppino, as if giving up on him was giving up on himself. So, even though Fake Peppino used to unnerve the hell out of him, Peppino let him live at the Pizzeria with him, Gustavo, and Brick and now he's pretty comfortable with Fake Peppino around

The only ship I particularly like with Peppino is Peppiblast (Peppino x Antonblast). I prefer him and Gustavo as friends, with Gustavo almost taking on a mentor-like relation with Peppino. I prefer Peppino and Noise as frenemies. While he's had bad relationships in the past, I do like the idea of Peppino wanting to be in one. I think his relationship with Anton is an interesting one with both of them helping each other grow- with Anton learning to become a bit more sensitive to those around him (you gotta be careful being a demolitionist dating a war veteran) and Peppino learning how to set boundaries better and communicate his needs better (he comes from a loving but misguiding family which left him with some issues)

[gumclones]

As a fellow Chicle enjoyer, I must ask for your opinion on my biggest and most beloved crack ship of Chicle and Simon. They both went through the whole "being trapped inside your own head as a debased form of yourself to only then be freed from that state nearly 1000 years later in a world completely different from the one you knew, causing you to both long for the past whilst also resenting it," thing (I headcanon that the main reason Chicle went along with/followed Gumbald, despite being betrayed by him was because he genuinely did think of him and Lolly as his family and that by going along with Gumbalds craziness he could regain some of the normalcy that was in his previous life.) Plus, their personalitys seem like they would mesh really well together

first off, thanks for the ask! always nice to talk to another Chicle appreciator. gonna put the rest under a cut because I have lots of thoughts:

I'd never considered the ship before! I definitely think that interactions between Simon and any of the gum family would be great - partly because they've got so much in common with Bubblegum, someone to whom Simon was drawn because of her resemblance to Betty, and partly because of what you mentioned about how they all have experience being trapped with mental alteration for so very, very long. plus, as we've seen in Simon Petrikov, after getting de-crowned Simon goes to the same tavern that Punch Bowl and Crunchy were seen at, so there's definitely opportunity for them to meet and bond.

there's an interesting difference between the gum family's situations and Simon's - while the crown actively pulls its wearer into the shape of Gunther's impression of Evergreen, the dum-dum solution seems to mainly have effects on awareness, demeanor, and memory. Simon draws a very sharp distinction between the Ice King and himself, while Gumbald treats his time as a punch bowl as a painful period of his own life and refers to Crunchy as Chicle to no protest from Crunchy or Lolly. Chicle in particular seems to have kept a lot of his sense of self as Crunchy, as shown in The Pajama War and The Dark Cloud. this perspective might help Simon out quite a bit - I have a lot of feelings about the amount of transformation in Adventure Time and how it affects identity. (relatedly, I think both of them should get to hang out with Sweet P!)

I think that Chicle and Lolly's reasons for allying with Gumbald are definitely multifaceted. their familial bond definitely factors into it - we see that on top of doing reconnaissance/sabotage work like in Marcy and Hunson Chicle has completed a lot of paintings for Gumbald's base, which seem to be done completely voluntarily, as when he runs away from working on the horse painting for fear of the base getting breached, Gumbald doesn't punish him or even look annoyed. there's also the way that Gumbald looks angry when Jake splashes Chicle with the dum-dum solution harmless contents of the celebration bucket, his sad expression when speaking with Crunchy, and his sending Crunchy away from the battlefield to safety.

I think that there's also an aspect of practicality - after all, when they first got reverted at the end of Skyhooks II they had literally nobody else but each other. even if nobody but Bonnie knew what they looked like, they still look so much like her that they'd be sure to grab attention if they went out undisguised. and Chicle does mention a "secret goal [to] never die" in Gumbaldia, so he must have decided that Gumbald and Lolly had the best shot of helping him attain that goal.

and now I'm thinking of the interactions that they could have, since I think they'd shake out differently depending on which form they'd be in. Chicle seems a lot more openly insecure about how he's perceived than Crunchy does - he's defensive about his laugh, for instance, and he cracks jokes almost compulsively - the mime comment, the "high standing" joke, the "oops, was that bad" taunt - and he’s intensely ashamed when he gets juiced. I'm not sure how Simon would react to that, to be honest, but I think the Ice King would be very validating - my mental image is kind of based on the Ice King's friendship with Abracadaniel. Crunchy's not devoid of insecurity - he looks very offended about being called "the new Cinnamon Bun" - but he seems to channel that into ruthlessness. this would make for really entertaining Ice King interactions and with Simon… well, I think that Betty's ruthless side is one of the things that Simon loves about her! also, on a more serious note, I think that if we're specifically talking about interactions that take place during the Fionna and Cake time period, Crunchy would be able to give Simon hope. after all, even though getting turned back into a candy person was something Chicle was terrified of, we see that he's still living well (and alive 1000+ years later, to boot. keep it up king at this rate you really will never die)!

again, thank you for the ask! I salute you in your shipping endeavors 🫡

[acaciapines]

….I can’t believe it took you less than a day. Anyways, I know so little about this show, but do the citizens of Ooo have daemons, or some other form of dust? Given that they aren’t human and all. (reply by @snarky-wallflower)

a post so i have more space to write. and uh. yeah it is truly so funny. it isnt actually as quick as it seems (ive been turning it over since i finished adventure time like, a week ago?) but still. im a joke and a parody etc etc etc.

anyways! i actually think most people of ooo dont have daemons at all! so lets explain why.

when i write daemon aus, i tend to write dust as a sort of, particle that kind of Exists in the world. it is created by people but it was also there before people and wouldve helped spark the creation of people, in a like, 'oh having a way to interact w this particle is really useful to do x y z, lets evolve to use it!' obvi im not a scientist and the details vary but this is how i sort of tend to see it as a baseline!

so, from there, all species that are. sapient? pretty sure sapient is the word, they all interact and connect to dust in some way. this can be via visual cues (actually perceiving it and its patterns) but mostly its through some other way, like how humans have daemons.

so, in ooo, humans do still have daemons! its just. theyre the only ones.

as for everyone else, they are all, somehow, connected to dust! they all have to be, its just a lot of them dont have daemons because nuclear war, magic bullshit, etc etc. im not 100% on all the lore behind the show but i imagine that The World Fucking Up drastically changed the way sapient species interact with dust. i like the idea that all magic-users are able to use magic bc magic is just interacting directly with dust and getting it to do what you want, so their connection to dust is just, magic. and to get there you lose whatever previous connection you might've had.

most people probably have something else. i think you could get real creative with it. i dont have answers for most people <3 i think you could give species daemon LIKE things, but i'd make em sightly different. not sure. how yet. plants? can't change shape? various things to do with range? specific places? some sort of hivemind? theres a lot of ways you can take it and none of my ideas would focus on that bc thats too close to making a whole au and im like. nah. im focusing on some MINI!! ARCS!! with a limited cast of characters!

as for people i DO have answers for....

marceline had a daemon, being a vampire fucked with that for a while. post-stakes she gets her daemon back.

finn has a daemon and theyre doing totally fine lol.

fern probably had a "daemon" but it was less daemon more another plant construct that was more just him than two people split across two bodies. he finds this out and Doesnt Take It Well.

simon has a daemon. ice king doesnt. simon doesnt get his daemon back upon being de-ice kinged. this is very bad for his mental health.

ditto for betty when she becomes magic betty. golbetty is doing great. they're together in there. no idk what that looks like.

jake has Something. not a daemon. no idea what. but he for sure has a tangible thing. prooooobly same for lady but she also might get magic-user rules and can see dust but this is just chill for her vs most magic users who get there by losing something along the way.

bmo is a computer. i dont think he has a tangible daemon but i think he's got something.

bubblegum has the whole mother gum thing so i imagine thats sort of like, a static place she visits sometimes. or maybe something with neddy??? whatever it is she doesnt have anything that like, follows her around or is on her person.

the candy people since theyre made by pb basically just have a whole mess of things she thought were interesting to experiment with. so there are candy daemons.

i think flame princess has something closer to a daemon than not but they arent a daemon. i'd need to do more research into. fire.

fionna's daemon is cake <3 before the events of the miniseries they Do Not Know This so it manifests as fionna bringing her cat literally everywhere, cake being way too smart for a cat, and neither of them thinking this is weird in any other way. (everyone around them is very freaked out <3)

nobody else in the fionna and cake universe have daemons or anything like it.

fionna: wait are you telling me you dont share dreams with your cat?? don't telepathically communicate with your cat? everyone around her: what the fuck are you talking about--

and thats what ive got whoo! for basic ideas. more detailed plots are for the stakes mini-arc + fionna and cake since i think theres an interesting story there, but thats not for this post.

[wehavebiggerproblems]

Fallout 4 Random Companion Headcanons

Wrote these a few years ago, too nervous then to share them.

Ada

-Ada was built in 2268. She's about 21 years old.

-Her first memory is of seeing The Mechanist in front of her. Then she watched as The Mechanist removed their head and smiled.

-She's Isabel's first project. 

-Her voice was originally supposed to be more synthesized and robotic, but the more human sound was easier for Isabel to work with.

-Ada prefers to travels in groups with 3-4 people, knowing fully well a robot is a higher target for scavvers.

- Her base body was constructed from many different trial runs of the "ADA" project.

-She's programmed to remain indifferent but the nagging voice in her programming says to do good things in order to to aid other people.

-Ada appreciates the effort Sole goes through to upgrade her body. She doesn't think it's necessary and she's somewhat sentimental about her original form.

-She finds Codsworth's attachment to Sole strange. Almost too human, those Mr. Handy's.

Cait

-Cait loves baths. Bubble baths with bath bombs and even a little rubber ducky. Only Sole knows this.

-The rubber ducky's name is Codsworth. Will not explain why.

-Can fire a rifle over her shoulder behind her. (Annie Oakley style)

-Hates Jazz music. Says it's too slow and calm. Really dislikes it because she's uncomfortable slow dancing with anyone.

-Allergic to feathers. Rad chickens make her sick to be around.

-But once the feathers are removed, the chicken has been cut up, and cooked with some veggies and a loaf of bread, loves it.

-Chicken soup is her favourite dish. Only likes Sole's chicken soup though. Will not eat anyone else’s.

-Shot put would be her favourite sport. Throwing a heavy metal sphere a very long distance is goals.

Codsworth

-Codsworth can speak 8 languages. Including: English, Spanish, French, Japanese, German, Italian, Polish, and Swedish.

-Can recognize almost every written language and translate but lacks the programming to speak every one.

-Nate/Nora got him two years before Shaun was born.

-Sole did minimal repair work on him, and offered to polish him every time he got a dent or scratch.

-He always accepted the polish offer. Very wary of Sole doing factory repairs on him. Would prefer professionals doing the delicate work.

-Always celebrated Nate/Nora and Sole’s respective birthdays. For 200 years.

-When Sole called him "Family", he felt an odd electric pulse through his core processor. He decided to call it a skipped heart beat.

-Calls synth Shaun "Sonny", and "Young Master Shaun".

-Makes Sole's favourite meal when they come back home from Vault 111.

-Will ask to take over if he catches Sole doing chores.

-Hesitates when he has to bring up Sole's spouse knowing it's a touchy subject.

-His favourite friend of Sole's is Nick. Thinks Nick is a good role model for synth Shaun.

Curie

-Curie, like Codsworth can speak 8 languages. However, after becoming a synth, she can only speak about 4.

-Curie loves the feeling of velvet. Collects pieces of velvet clothing. 

-Once wore a velvet cape around because she loved the way it draped over her shoulders and fluttered when she walked.

-Has sensory phases. Music, nice noises, soft materials, different foods, perfumes, etc. Collects whatever makes her senses happy.

-During the "feeling phase" her favourite feeling was holding Sole's hand. Loved running her hand over the surface of water. And velvet.

-Talks out what her feelings are with Piper. Piper explains to her what the "spin spin spin" in her head meant.

-Favourite smell is fresh baked bread. Bakes bread with Mama Murphy every weekend.

-Favourite sweet food is mutfruit pie. Will badger Piper to make it with her.

-Curie's motor functions are still new. Sometimes she misses what she was trying to grab and fumbles.

Danse

-Danse is a horrid mechanic. You'd think spending time in the BoS and dedicating time to auto repair with Ingram. Can't put a toaster together.

-But Power Armor is a piece of cake. Can't do much with pre-war tech, yet fixing power armor is as easy as making breakfast.

-Like all gen 3 synths, he loves Fancy Lad snack cakes. He'd share whatever box he'd find with the squires around the Prydwen.

-Scribe Haylen would volunteer to work alongside Danse on all his scouting missions.

-Danse found out Deacon was the one who stuck the dildo to his power armor. He made sure Deacon's wigs were the same bright purple color the very next day.

-Loves country music. When a traveling courier stops by and shares their western/country music, he actually dances. 

-Has a heart for kids. Even Billy. 

-Leg bouncing habit. Can't bounce his leg in power armor but as soon as he's out, his leg's jittering.

Deacon

-Deacon is in his late 40's. 

-Did not lie about his wife and the University Point Deathclaws.

-Enjoys learning about Pre-war culture, spends free time with ghouls asking them about the past.

-Sole can fool him easily about prewar facts though. 

-Has incredible luck with the pie claw game. Has won 8 times while traveling with Sole.

-Loves making silly bets. "I bet I can skip this plate across the lake at least 1 time." Proceeds to throw the plate at the water horizontally. 

-Doesn't hate Danse. He will pull pranks on him though. Once stuck a dildo on the back of Danse's power armour. 

-His hair grows quickly so he has to shave every day.

-Shaves his head, isn't bald. Shaved head works better with his pompadour wig. 

-Doesn't like mutfruit. Says it's too acidic and hurts his gums.

-Has a rifle-shaped scar on his forearm. Will tell a different story for it every time.

-Once drank a dozen Nuka Cola Quantums on a dare. His pee glowed for a week.

-Tried going vegetarian once. ONCE. Found out being vegetarian means eating no meat or dairy products. Had to have Sole explain that, while gross, radroach could technically be  considered meat.

-Is kinda clumsy. Always bumps into counter edges and stubs his toes on bits of debris.

-Doesn't lie about his family. And when Sole calls him family, promises to never lie about family again.

Gage

-Gage juggled skii balls to entertain the last Overboss, Colter.

-He enjoys small shooting competitions with MacCready, Sole, and X6. All four are sharp shooters.

-Fastest learner. Spent an entire week learning how to cook Sole's old recipes. He can cook them better than anyone with the exception of Codsworth.

-Hums when he works. 

-Had a one night stand with Nisha. Ended so bad, he avoids that area of the park at all costs.

-Hates cats. Had an awful run in with a rad lion. Radiated Mountain Lion that tore a scar deep down his back. 

-Does routine maintenance on the rides in the park. He knows how everything works there. From social hierarchy - to the intricacies of the Vault Tec: Among the Stars ride.

-His favourite flavour of Nuka Cola is Nuka Cola Victory. Rare to find but easily the best.

-Record farthest shot is a bean can from 410 meters. 

-He's a lightweight. Only two beers and he's buzzed enough to sing along with Red-Eye.

-Will tell a different story every time if anyone asks about the eye patch.

Hancock

-Hancock is a history buff. Loves learning about colonial era civilization. 

-Has spent days with Kent Connolly researching Silver Shroud information. He knows more about the Silver Shroud than any other companion.

-Has had a fling with every person in Goodneighbor at least once. Even Kleo. 

-At least in a sexual way, he is extremely open minded. Welcomes new experiences and new information given anywhere anytime.

-Had a decent childhood with his brother. He remembers tending to the mutfruit trees with him and eating every other piece they picked.

-Adores pickles. Would sit and eat an entire jar of pickles just because he loves the cronch so much.

-All time favourite chem is Mentats. Loves making intellectual jokes while high as a kite.

-Does not know what a lot of pre-war expressions mean, but enjoys saying them and hearing them from Sole.

-Is a master at repairing clothing. How else does the frock stay in such good condition? He tends to it every night.

-As far as euphemisms for ghouls go, he likes "beef jerky".

Longfellow

-Longfellow met Hannah while out hunting. She blasted a trapper's head clean off, and he fell harder than the trapper's body.

-He spent his youth training, hoping to become a Brotherhood soldier one day.

-And then he met a vertibird full of them. They called Far Harbor a dump while gathering supplies there. Officially decided to cease all training.

-Managed to take down 17 Mirelurks in 3 minutes. 

-Holds the record in Acadia for alcohol consumption. All records involving alcohol consumption.

-He's really fit? Longfellow could and has bench pressed Sole. 

-He only did so because Hancock and MacCready wouldn't shut up about it.

-Loves singing old shanty songs and dancing with Sole. Only when no one else is around though.

-After the events at Far Harbor, he decides to go sailing along the coast. Wants to see the world more.

MacCready

-MacCready does brush his teeth. He brushes his teeth regularly. He started brushing after he left Little Lamplight. By that point the damage was already done.

-Lucy was the one to convince him to brush his teeth.

-He can't stand the smell of lavender. Lavender candles, lavender lotion, etc...makes him feel  nauseous.

-He named his sniper rifle, "Lucy"

-Won't drink brahmin milk with cereal even to Sole's encouragement.

-Is very well read. Vault 87 had many educational textbooks hidden among the super mutants.

-MacCready was the longest lasting mayor in L.L. He was mayor for 6 years.

-He has no idea what television is and is afraid to ask any pre-wars about it.

-Wary of all ghouls, both feral and normal. He's not bias to non-ferals, but he is a little uncomfortable.

-Had a crush on Lone Wanderer when they first visited L.L. Mac told Joseph and he made fun of him.

Nick

-Nick has an oral fixation. Smokes out of habit and having the familiar feeling of a cigarette between his lips feeds into human nostalgia.

-His right hand is missing skin because he fidgets only his right. Whether it was picking at the fraying plastic or rubbing the fake skin raw.

-He lost the chunk of neck skin after Myrna accused him of working for the Institute. Tore off a chunk to prove he wasn't a perfect person or an infiltrator synth.

-Ellie was the first person in Diamond City to wholly accept Nick as he is. She asked to work with him as soon as he decided to stay.

-Piper and Nick have jam sessions where they have heavy debates about Diamond City law enforcement and criminal misuse of power in the capitalistic society of pre-war USA.

-Met Dogmeat under an overpass. He handed the dog a snack cake and scratched his head. They've been close pals ever since.

-Will "sleep" around Sole. He'll lay down and manually put himself into "sleep mode". Any unnecessary functions will shut down. He lets his thoughts take over. All Sole hears is the faintest fan whir.

Piper

-Piper plans Sole's 211th birthday. She goes all out, collects balloons, bakes several cakes with Codsworth, makes everyone attend and threatens anyone who would act up. "It's Blue's first birthday out here, you WILL behave!"

-Knows how to make mutfruit preserves, mutfruit pie, mutfruit jam and jelly. Makes it for Nat constantly.

-Has a notebook dedicated to little tidbits of info about Sole.

-Nat is exactly 8 years, 5 months, and 25 days younger than Piper. 

-Piper has interviewed every person in Diamond City. Made a game of it with Nat at first, then she just kept going with it.

-Piper has awful shorthand. Almost as bad as Curie's shorthand. Still illegible. 

-Piper's handwriting is so bad, Nat does the writing for the paper. Piper writes the final draft and Nat copies it, and sends it through the printing press.

-Despite bad handwriting, Piper is very eloquent. Can make a super mutant sound like good date idea or convince anyone how the mayor might actually be a synth.

-Her favourite of Sole's friends is Kent Connolly. Would gladly dress up and act out Silver Shroud episodes with him and Sole.

Preston

-Preston has insomnia. Cannot sleep well. Has had insomnia since Quincy. 

-Can sleep well if he's sleeping beside someone.

-Has a box under his bed of little knick-knacks children have given him over the years. Can't bear to get rid of the kid's gifts.

-He actually likes all of Sole's friends. Even Strong.

-Hates coconut. Once found an Almond-Joy while scaving and couldn't finish it to save his life.

-All time favourite candy is Peanut Brittle. Hard to find but gnawing on the hard chunks is somewhat soothing to him.

-Loves back rubs. Giving and receiving but only from close friends or lovers.

-Once accidently drank a bottle of perfume. MacCready told him it was a bottle of fancy expensive wine. 

-Sturges and Preston are the closest of friends, no less maybe more.

Strong

-Strong knows how to jump rope.

-But double dutch is a mystery.

-Before Sole, he only ate meat raw. Sole taught him how to cook it.

-Also lacks patience to cook, but slowly learning.

-Strong was created in Vault 87 after the bombs dropped but remembers nothing from being human.

-Doesn't understand bubblegum. Will always swallow it after a few seconds of chewing.

-Likes having poetry and plays read to him. 

-Sleeps holding Sole or having Sole laying across his stomach. 

-Loves fire. The smell, the feeling of heat against his hardened skin, the taste of charred meat, and watching the embers fly up and turn to ash.

-Strong can read, but chooses not to because super mutants discourage any educational behavior. 

-Likes the sound of clacking keys on a terminal. He'll turn one on and mess around with the keyboard just to hear the different sounds each key makes.

-He can't decide if hand-to-hand combat is better than using guns.

X6-88

-X6 doesn't like using plasma. He thinks the plasma is less accurate. 

-But laser weapons are his jam.

-Spends excessive amount of time augmenting his weapon. 

-If Sole helped, he would be "happy". Would never say it, but a tiny smirk would pop up on his face for half a second.

-Will collect Fancy Lad Snack Cakes. Hoards them in his bedroom in Sanctuary and in the Institute. 

-Sole found his stash and X6 blushed for the first time when they confronted him. 

-He called Sole "Mom" instead of Ma'am once. She won't let him live it down.

-He called Sole "Dad" after hearing Shaun call him "Dad" all day. He won't let him live it down.

-Actually likes kids. Won't show emotions, get down to their level, or speak to kids. But he doesn't hate children. 

-Especially likes synth Shaun. He taught synth Shaun how to use a laser pistol. Shaun found out and put X6 on probation for a month.

Bonus Vault Tec Rep and Kent Connolly under the cut.

Vault Tec Rep

-Rep spent a couple decades learning how to draw. Loves drawing from life. Mostly draws people. Occasionally draws ferals, mutants, and various animals.

-Was engaged before the war, lasted about 2 years before she died of cancer.

-His favorite food was and still is a well grilled medium rare steak.

-A total neat freak. Every space he uses as a homestead has to be thoroughly cleaned of any bacteria, ticks, dust, dirt, radiation residue, etc

-Teased in school for his red hair. "Rusty" was his least favorite nickname.

-He's extremely susceptible to pet names. Doesn't have to be anything sexual or romantic, just pet names. He blushes like a starstruck starlet.

-Loves love. Romance and old-timey corny love stories. He like to woo his partner. Flowers, chocolate, dancing, movie dates, hand written poems, you name it. 

-He misses his old red hair. Years of being a brunette and he's a little bitter about his hair.

-Least favourite part of The Wasteland is amount of bodies he sees on a daily basis. He saw about zero bodies a day on average before the war. Even in Goodneighbor, the average has risen to about 4 bodies a week. 

-Favourite part of The Wasteland is the ability to just go anywhere. After realizing he didn't have any obligation to stay any specific place, he just traveled around for a few decades.

-His father worked for Vault-Tec, and when he graduated high school, he was given a job immediately. 

-Didn't hate it. Didn't love it at first, but he had a real knack for selling.

-He never had an office in Boston HQ. He got the van, and got a sweet bonus for being top salesman, but never his own office. 

-Despite being top salesman, he was only allowed on the first and second floors. He didn't find out till after the bombs dropped that the basement and third floor up had the plans for the various vaults in the area.

-He can't apologize enough to Sole. After thinking on it and checking out vault 111 by himself, he truly feels sorry for what happened.

-Sole gets him a set of steak knives for Christmas. They're homemade by Sole. They tell him he's earned far more than a knife set, but if that's what he's pining for...

-He treasures it so much, he rarely uses them. Just before he leaves for work in the morning, he checks them over and admires them.

-He and Sole have spent days just telling each other pre war stories. He almost knows more about Sole than Piper does. And he's a little proud of that fact.

-He gets along best with, of all people, Deacon. Good sense of humour and always interested in pre-war info.

-Second best is Piper. A nice lady who snoops too much, but does treat everyone with respect and tries to remain unbiased.

Kent Connolly

-Kent was 23 when the bombs dropped.

-He was sleeping in on the Saturday morning when he heard the air raid sirens.

-Hid in his house's basement till the sirens stopped. 

-And then the radiation sickness took over. 

-It took him about 3 months to turn ghoulish. Quicker than most. 

-He dislikes Goodneighbor - the town as a whole. The people are fine, the resources are serviceable, and the safety assured is nice. But he hates how back alley it feels.

-Misses his family the most. They weren't the best, but they made him feel loved and important.

-Speaking of which, Kent had a huge family. I'm talking brothers, sisters, cousins for days, aunts, uncles...he remembers family reunions as huge gatherings chock full of food and kids running amuck.

-Maybe, just maybe, he enjoys seeing Sole all dressed like Shroud a little too much. He's a big fan.

-Once spent 4 grand on a mint condition Issue no. 3 Silver Shroud comic just to find out it was a forgery. Never got that refund. :(

-Writes really well. But only writes Silver Shroud fanfiction. Piper almost convinced him to help write an article about how crime differed before the war and after the war. But he turned her down.

-Nick has agreed to dress up as Shroud if Sole dresses up like Grognak or Mistress of Mystery. But only if Sole dresses up too.

-Irma refers to him as her son. Amari will not say the same, but she also doesn't protest.

-He used to work in comic book shop. (Of course he did.) 

-He writes self insert Silver Shroud fanfiction all the time. After the events at the hospital with Sinjin, the Shroud in his fanfictions suddenly start using Sole's pronouns and is described as physically similar as Sole.

[excaliburofficial]

Favorite Snack Foods of the Soul Eater Main Cast

To accompany the one I made like a year ago about drinks

Maka

Tends to like snacks that are kind of staple snack foods but not most people's "favorite" like soft pretzels, popcorn, and assorted nuts. She is in charge of any and all trail mix bowls the group needs for parties and gatherings because she has a good sense of what will taste good together or not. One time she had these lollipops that were supposed to taste like chicken and were even chicken shaped, and she enjoyed them but cant remember where she got them. She has been looking for them ever since and doesn't get why people look at her weird when she says "chicken flavored lolipops". She's not even sure if the chicken lollipop was real or if it was a weird fever dream

Soul

Has the most Teenaged Boy TM taste in snacks ever. He will never say no to mozzarella sticks, pizza rolls, or tater tots. Ever. He is also secretly really into like, granny snacks. Like wafer cookies and those cookies you get in the tins and like saltine crackers or some shit. One time he went through a total hipster snack phase where he only ate cool pastries, artisan chips, and really weird kinds of locally made beef jerky. He went through another phase where he just made a shit ton of crepes

Black*Star

He literally loves all snack foods though and if you put something in front of him and tell him its edible he will try it. He's not too keen on overly sweet snacks and really likes funyuns and like all chips and like obviously slim jims. He makes really bad gay jokes about himself while eating said slim jims. He will also buy a bag of super spicy chips and eat like maybe half the bag before he starts tearing up and goes to grab the milk. He denies this and says he finishes the entire bag. (He does eventually get to a point where he can eat an entire bag through sheer willpower)

One time he found those weird chicken lollipops Maka keeps talking about, couldn't believe it was real, and was ashamed that he liked it. He has yet to tell Maka that they're real

Tsubaki

She is a lot like Black*Star in that she will really try any snack food even if she doesn't think she'll like it because she's really open to the new experience. She's a big fan of frozen treats. Ice cream, frozen custard, ice pops, gelato, you name it. She is a firm believer in waffle cones over cake cones and slightly judges Black*Star when he gets cake cones but doesn't say anything about it. Also loves jello and pudding cups- anything that's cool and refreshing. She really misses Soul's crepe phase though

Death the Kid

Simultaneously has the best taste in snacks and treats and the worst. He comes in to class one day with these super expensive, extremely dark chocolate truffles or something and then the next he has just a shit ton of black licorice. He also finishes Black*Star's half eaten bag of extremely spicy chips like it's nothing and actually really likes them. People are afraid to ask him to share his snacks because it's either going to be some super expensive gourmet shit, leftover spicy chips, or fucking licorice. He does not understand why people are afraid of him for this. He one time referred to hardtack and pemmican as snack foods and he cannot live it down

He is unironically interested in finding and trying these elusive chicken flavored lollipops that Maka keeps talking about

Liz

Waits the entire year for the Girl Scouts to start selling cookies and then buys way too many boxes of like every kind. Her favorite is the caramel delights. She also likes candy bars no matter how basic of a "favorite snack" that is but they haven't failed her yet. She insists that Toblerones are fancy, fine chocolates in spite of being around Kid's actual fancy, fine chocolates and refuses to accept anything else. She's also always chewing gum. She likes classic bubble gum flavor and cool mint.

Patty

Flaming hot cheetos? She loves them. Pop rocks? Absolutely the best. Do y'all remember when they were making that green ketchup in the 2000s? Well Patty somehow still has a bunch of it that somehow hasn't gone bad yet. Airheads? Jawbreakers? Sour patch kids? Pizza rolls? Tater tots? Patty has all of these and more in her pocket right now at this very second. She is the snack queen and she knows it. How does she fit all of those into her pockets? How is this smore she gave me still warm and gooey? We don't know and we don't ask

She is secretly the supplier of the mysterious chicken lollipops

[kkusuka]

Head cannons of Fat Gum, Aizawa, Dabi, and Compress with a Chun-Li like reader! Thick thighs saves lives but her thighs could literally crush someone’s skull if she wanted too (they’re hella soft when she’s relaxed but toned in action), do inhumanly fast butterfly kicks, helicopter kicks, and they’re just impossible to ignorer. She can also do hand to hand combat, shoot short ranges aura blasts, and is physically strong at the top (can yeet couches and grown men with ease) but I think these guys wouldn’t know what to do with themselves when they see dem legs in action or in a skirt 😏

I’m sorry this took forever

pls forgive🙏🏻

Fat Gum

Two thicc bitches in a room

If anyone, this man appreciates thighs, of all sizes and shapes

The first time he saw you in a skirt had almost passed out, mostly because the skirt didn't fully fit your figure and it just made your legs look better

The first time he saw you kick, he was more than impressed (and shell shocked (and horny) but mostly the impressed thing)

Not gonna lie

He asked you to teach them to him knowing full well he would not be able to do them, like ever

In reality he just wanted to see you do them more

The way your thighs flexed, and how concentrated you got

And how your thighs looked

(did i mention he liked your thighs and their versatility)

Well he does

Nothing does compare to seeing them in action

Oh man, that was a different experience for him, he knew you were powerful

But the villain on the floor knocked clean out after one kick was a completely different level

He just couldn't wait to see what else you could do with those gorgeous legs of yours ;)

Aizawa

Being honest: he didn’t really care about your legs all that much

In the beginning

Oh how things have changed

He was firstly impressed by your ability to look good in anything

Leggings didn't do your legs justice

And the skirt? Way better than leggings but something else was needed.

The skirt and the cat thigh highs he got you? Perfection.

He had never really seen you in action though

The cause? You belonged to two different agencies

That changed why you guys moved in with each other! Now he truly experienced how much strength those legs really had

You looked like a real life angel

He thought you were floating when he saw you training

But to be completely honest, he likes when your thighs are relaxed and he can lay on them

I feel like he just likes watching them spread out, like he’ll pick your leg up and put in back down over and over just to watch it.

What an interesting leg man you have.

Dabi

To say that Dabi likes to see you in a skirt may be an understatement

And here i sit telling you that when you walk by him he does in fact flip up your skirt

Of course he has seen you do a bunch of crazy things with your legs

Do that mulan kick thing? Multiple times.

And they get better every time

Roundhouse? He was a bit scared, but it was hot nonetheless

And yes he has put an apple on Twice’s head and made you kick it off without harming the poor guy.

The most impressive was definitely seeing you in sleep shorts after the base was attacked, and you did a flying sidekick into some hero.

(he was so proud of his doll for being the baddest bitch in the fight)

But the thigh chokehold on that poor hero was something new

Of course he froze in what can only be described as odd amazement

Then he felt pure jealousy, why didn't you have his head in your thighs

So the only way to go about said situation is to have you sit and crush things with you thighs

(after letting him sit there for a while)

Mr. Compress

I can say with full confidence that this man dresses you up

Its true, he does not know how to react to seeing you in things that he has asked you to wear

He also likes just touching them

He’ll be doing something and he just stops goes looking for you and just pets your thighs

Just from all this he knew your thighs were strong but like some of the others he had no idea what to expect

it was like you were putting on a show

you were flying through the air you looked so beautiful

knocking hero after hero off their feet

after seeing that he hopped online what else can she crush with her thighs train

watermelons? he has three waiting

bottle cans? he’ll drink as much soda as he can

his head! cuddles get more extravagant

oh the whims of dating Mr. Compress

[binniesthighs]

don’t you forget about me | reader x jeongin

it’s the last day that you might ever see him again, so, to hell with it, right? (image from straykidsfilm on twt!) 

please read the CWs bc this fic talks about body image!! this is something close to me as well, and I wanted to share some cute innie love!! <3 

hey you reading this! you’re gorgeous ;) 

don’t you forget about me | reader x jeongin 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x yang jeongin 

Genre:  fluff n’ smut 

Tags: high school crush au (everyone depicted in this fic is at least 18), virgin!reader, virgin!jeongin, plussize!reader (i think this is the right tag, if not plz correct me!) first time au, cuties in love, softdom!jeongin, (hehe ya know I love me a soft dom), sub!reader, unprotected sex (stay safe cuties!) semi-public sex, nipple play (f), fingering (f), cumshot, somewhat of a quickie, dirty talking, lil bit of a corruption kink, cute fluffy undertones!

CWs: brief mention of a fistfight and blood/wounds, insecurity over weight and descriptive narrative about body weight/appearance and negative self image 

Word count: 7.1k 

Word had spread that someone had gotten into a fight on the last day of school.  Supposedly, it had occurred during the second to last hour of the day, and it was a group of three to four boys. The rest of the details had been unclear, but you had heard mutterings about their names, or how each of them had walked into the principal’s office with bloodied knuckles, fat lips, and purple bruises to their cheekbones. You had heard that one of them had laughed in the face of the principal, claiming that they simply had it coming. 

“I heard that they were from class A-4. Or was it A-3?” 

Your friend leaned over with her skirt ruffling on her plastic chair. 

“Who could be so stupid?” She strung her bubble-gum around her finger with cracked nail-polish. “Are they looking to graduate, or what?” 

“I don’t know...” 

In your lap, you hands grew clammy with sweat. It was against your will, but you couldn’t but help thinking...

Yang Jeongin was in class A-4. 

Your chest tightened thinking about if it had been him that had gotten in the fight. 

It was no secret that you had harbored a crush on the boyishly handsome student from the other class of your same year. You had read or seen somewhere that the reason that they called crushes “crushes” was because they did just that--they crushed you to the full extent of the word. Whoever had said that, you had learned that they were 100% right. Having a crush on Yang Jeongin had been the most painful experience of your life. Since middle school, it had been something that you had scribbled in your diary, and the reason why you would hold your breath when he walked by with his friends, or when you’d see him on the same bus as you. 

You can’t exactly recall when it started, it just kind of did. 

There was nothing extremely notable about him: he wasn’t his class president, he wasn’t the ace of a sports team, nor did he even have friends who really were notable either. No matter how much you pondered it, you couldn’t figure out what it was about him. 

Yang Jeongin was known for having a kind smile and a jovial laugh, so you just decided that it must’ve been one of these things. This semester he had ashy-grey brown hair, and your best friend still hadn’t heard the end of it from you. Over time, you had learned that he liked banana milk with his lunch and kept a fox enamel pin on his backpack. He had worn the same beat up sneakers for all of high school and wore this same grey hoodie on most days when it would get cold. 

A couple times you had imagined what it would’ve been like if he had let you borrow it on the days when it would mist on spring mornings, or when snow would fall early in November. There had even been times when you imagined him holding your hand, walking down the hall, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to hold you close...among other things. Somehow, you liked to think that he would be the kind of person who would love you more than you could love yourself. Granted, you never could know for sure. Being optimistic made up half of your fantasies. 

“Just confess already.” 

Your best friend had said half a million times over the course of the years. 

The more you had contemplated it, the less sense that it made. A confession would’ve been a whole lot easier if he had known who you were. 

“There's no way.” You had said morosely. “As if he would say yes to me.” 

“Can’t know unless you try.” Your friend smiled, sucking at her lollipop on the walk home. “Don’t pretend like you’ve never written him a confession letter before...” Her backpack hopped up and down with her arms outstretched animatedly in that alley decorated with vines. “...Where do you keep them? In your desk? Under your bed? In your sock drawer?” 

“Oh shut up!!” You nudged her, sending her spiraling out with laughter. 

“If it’s the last day of school, you’ve got nothing to loose! You’ll never see him again! If he says no, no big deal!” 

The clock ticked on the wall to your classroom, the seconds hand moving silently faster and faster the more that you looked at it. Under your desk, your fingertips pricked the edges of the pink envelope. You had written your the name as nicely as you could with flowery cursive with tiny flowers. On the back, you had sealed it with a sticker: an orange fox. 

Your throat grew dry seeing only six minutes before the bell would ring, and then the metal legs of chairs would scrape on the floor, the hallway would flood with students, and you would make your way to his locker and pray that he would stop by there. In many ways, just thinking about it was enough to make your stomach do somersaults and for your hands to wet even more embarrassingly with sweat. Your knees felt limp, and you wondered if you even had it in you. 

Even worse, a deeper fear crept in the back of your mind--it was much more venomous and horrifying, but you couldn’t keep it down. You feared that he would laugh in your face, throw the letter down, and throw his head back at you and how ridiculous your moment of confidence had been. 

How could be like someone like me? 

Perhaps your biggest fear of all, even greater than the rejection, was him admitting that he could never like someone like you. 

Your skirt was tighter on you than most, at least, tighter than it was on the other girls. When you would shop at the school uniform store, you could never escape the glares from the ladies when you and your mother asked for the larger sizes that they had. Your soft cheeks were plush and squishy, and your belly striped with stretch marks that you had stopped looking at in the mirror. Because it was more comfortable, you wore leggings under you skirt, even in the warmer months, even if it made you sweat. Oversized sweaters would swim over your frame, for the very reason that you could swim in them. 

As optimistic as you could be, there had been some nights worse than the others where tears would wet your eyes before sleep, no matter how many affirmations and positive sticky notes you had pasted to the back of your bedroom door. 

How could I like someone like you? 

It would be so easy for him to say it. Words flicked off the tongue hastily are the ones that often hurt the most. You just hoped and hoped that he had been everything that you had made him to be...as unrealistic as it was. 

The bell chimed, and you felt your heart leap into your throat when the room erupted into cheers and papers and desks went flying and screeching around the floor. 

“Are you ready?” Your friend winked, and the corners of the letter pricked your fingers. 

~💌~

With some stroke of luck, he was exactly where you had wanted him to be. Even then, some small part of you had secretly had hoped that he hadn’t just so you could walk away. You would’ve walked away from him, that school, everyone who had known you and just let it be. However, fate had been much kinder to you...damned fate. 

Your heart quickened upon seeing him. He was wearing that same grey hoodie with the drawstrings that he would tie into bows sometimes, and that same enamel pin shone silver on his backpack. You realized that it even looked almost exactly like the sticker you had used. His navy uniform slacks were dusted with dirt however, and one of the knees had a bit of a tear to it. In your horror, you then saw the scrapes on his face: one right under his eye, on his left cheek, and a thin red line on his bottom lip where it had cracked open. Before you could think of anything else, seeing how much it must’ve hurt him made your heart twist.

From your backpack, you drew out the rest of the stuff that you had prepared, and tried your best not to collapse from the way that your knees trembled. 

“H-hi...” You announced, head down, and mouth deathly dry. 

Yang Jeongin whipped his head over to see you, slightly startled. Up this close you could see his adorable brown eyes that even looked at if they glistened with stars in them. 

“...Hi?” He returned, closing his locker, and wetting his lips. 

Your heartbeat rang in your ears, and you quickly presented him with the letter, the carton of banana milk with the heart sticker on top, and the tiny case of animal shaped cookies. 

With eyes glued to the floor and his beat up gym shoes, you said the words as fast as humanly possible, “I-know-that-you-don’t-know-who-I-am-but-I’ve-really-liked-you-for-such-a-long-time-now-and-seeing-as-its-the-last-day-of-school-I-wanted-to-tell-you-so-please-accept-this!!” 

You waited for what felt like hours, then he took the items from your hands with a tentative touch. “Um...thank you...for this.” 

This was it. It was happening. You had already known that it wouldn’t get much better, and the way that he looked petrified only made you feel even more heat rush to your cheeks. Even then, now that the words had escaped your lips for the whole universe to hear, it felt good in some small, relieving way.  

“Y-you don’t have to say anything back. Please don’t...don’t feel obligated to, I just...” Your voice trailed, and your eyes wandered to the exit door behind him, and the green of the summery trees. 

I should just leave. It would be better if I left. If I walk away, this is all over...

The hem of your skirt tickled your nervous fingers, and you had nearly made up your mind. You wished at least that he would say something rather than just staring. 

“I-I can just...leave, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...how could I think that...nevermind.” 

It took everything that you had, but you blinked the tears that stung the corners of your eyes and you hiked your backpack straps up a little higher. 

You motioned to the things in his hands, “I hope that you enjoy those things and...good luck at university.” 

You flashed a feeble smile for him, right back to his astonished face. Just outside of the exit, there was the rest of the world in front of you, and you also took peace in the fact that it really was a really nice day then. 

“W-wait!!” He suddenly said with a slight crack to his voice, turning after you to grab at your wrist too. As soon as he did, his eyes widened, the the gruff voices of a group of boys echoed down the hall. 

“Where is that shithead?? This isn’t over.” The tall boy from class A-4 balled up his hand into a fist, and smacked it into his palm. The tall boy and about three of his friends also had red knuckles and scratches on their faces, each to a varying level of degree. 

“Shit.” Jeongin bit his lip, and his grip on your wrist tightened. “Uh-can you come with me?? This way?? Fuck--” He nodded toward the opposite hallway, and your head spun thinking why he would want you to come with him. 

“What?? Why??” 

“Just--” He watched the boys coming frantically and hid behind his locker door. “They’ll beat the shit out of me again. Just....come on!” 

A nervous thrill sent a shiver down your spine feeling his hand and the warmth there while he guided you, pushing and parting the sea of bodies chatting and hugging each other goodbye. 

“Where are we going?” You called to him, and the little carton of banana milk swayed in his opposite hand. 

“I don’t know. Anywhere.” 

You followed him further and further, through the hallways that had emptied of students or any semblance of them. Shades had been pulled in most of the empty rooms, and the chairs had been placed on top of the tabletops of desks. Both of your shoes squeaked under the flooring when you turned corners, and the sound of his nervous panting became louder and louder. Where he held you, the sleeve of his sweater bushed up against you, and it was even softer than you had imagined. 

Jeongin pulled at several doorknobs, finding them to be locked, head turning to see if the group of boys had followed. At last, he found one that did unlock, and he threw it open on its hinges as quickly as he could. It was one of the storage closets for the theater department, and it was dustily coated on all surfaces and even moldy smelling, with not a window to be found. Jeongin flicked on the light, revealing the stacks of props and furniture that you vaguely remembered seeing in performances in the past. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you so hard.” Jeongin finally said. 

“It...it’s okay.” 

“If I got caught with them again I might as well kiss college goodbye...” He raked an anxious hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to fight with them before...” 

“Are...you okay?” You softened your tone, seeing the way that the pink marks on his face must’ve been made against the hard cement of the floor outside. 

“I-I’m fine. Thank you.” 

His eyes really did look like they glistened. 

“It...it’s really funny actually...” He shoved his hand into his pocket, fumbling with the contents with a shaking hand, then took out a crumbled piece of notebook paper that had been torn. “Take it.” He prompted with wide eyes. 

“Me??” 

“Who else?” He laughed lightly. 

The note had been written in black ink, and it smudged and bled to the other side of the paper, and the scribbled handwriting looked rushed as if it was an afterthought or some kind of crazed ramble. You unfolded it all the way, starting at the first sentence. 

dear y/n from A-2, 

you probably don’t know my name, but I’m yang jeonjin jeongin from class A-4, i wanted to write this to tell you that I think that youve you’re really  pretty, beautiful and that i’ve been kind of watching you for about a year now, i’m sorry if that’s creepy but, yeah, i just think that you’re really cool and i like it when you smile. i’m sorry that i didn’t say anythimg aything anything about this sooner, i was kind of shy about it to be honest, i didn’t want you to thank think that I was being disrespectful or anything like that, but seeing that its the last day of shcool school and I don’t have a ton to lose loose lose i thought that it was worth a shot. if this doesn’t go the way id i’d like it to, please don’t stop smilng smiling ♥

-yji 

By now, the boy from A-4 was swaying his body back and forth almost violently as he waited for you to read the letter and fiddled with his arms crossed. His teeth tugged at his lip, and he anxiously awaited for you to say something. Little did he know that reading his words you were so shocked that you were certain that you had forgotten how to breathe for a couple moments. 

“M-me? You mean this...for me?” 

“Yeah?” He advanced to take the letter back, “I’m really sorry if it’s creepy, I know that you don’t know me at all and we’ve never spoken, this must be really startling but...I wasn’t expecting for you to write me one too.” 

The adorable boy blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with a tiny growing smile. 

“S-sorry that I was so quiet earlier, I was just really surprised.” Jeongin flipped your letter over too, then gasped a little seeing the fox on the back. “Oh.” 

On the other side of the door, the loud and clambering footsteps of that group of idiotic boys clomped and they grunted among themselves asking where Jeongin had went. The two of you held your breath, and soon the voices receded. Once they passed, you threw your backpack around to scramble around the front pocket, pulling out a Band-Aid that must’ve been there for at least a year, but it still worked the same. 

“Here...do you need it?” 

“Oh! Um-no, but, thank you.” 

A silence filled the dusty room, and Jeongin awkwardly moved to sit on one of the old prop couches. He patted the spot next to him, beckoning you to do the same. 

“The timing...kinda sucks.” 

You laughed slightly, “That’s sort of my fault.” 

“--My fault too.” He quickly added. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get the chance to know you sooner. Maybe we could’ve...” Jeongin dug his fingers into the velvety upholstery. 

Slowly, your sinking insecurities started to creep like vines with thorns, and the words spilled out of your mouth before you had something to do with it. 

Maybe he’s just being nice? Are you really certain that letter was meant for you? 

“I guess that I’m just really surprised that you of all people could end up liking someone like me. Someone...that looks like me.”

The young boy cocked his head with his eyebrows confusedly crossed. “I don’t see what you mean?” 

“‘Cause I’m like...” You motioned to your thighs, a bit chubbier, your larger breasts, and your skirt riding up your legs too. “...like this?” 

“But there’s nothing wrong with you?” 

“Psh...”nothing wrong with me”...” You laughed with sarcasm at the comment. “Have you seen the other girls in the school? Some of them are frickin’ idols for crying out loud...” 

Jeongin’s eyes widened, and he scooched in a bit closer, but slowly; carefully. “What I’m trying to say is...that there’s no one else like you! And--” 

“--That’s exactly it. I’m not like everyone else...” 

Jeongin blabbered, and his hand found yours resting on your lap. “I-I’m not s-saying that’s a bad thing! I’m saying that the reason why you stood out to me was because I think...” He shied, cheeks becoming even rosier. “...Because you just seemed so happy all the time, like, you didn’t care what others did or thought of you, I could tell, even from kind of far away, that you were someone who’s real not some kind of made-up thing that you put on every morning for the rest of the world to see you as. Also...” He giggled, “I just thought that you were really cute too.”

His thumb brushed up against the back of your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small feeling. 

“I mean...I do think about what people think of me, I think about it all the time...” 

“I do too.” He said quietly. “Why else did I let it get so far that I let four guys gang up on me outside school?” 

You didn’t press him for more, but merely let your opposite hand rest of top of his as you watched his expression fall. When he was in school, you had only ever seen him smile, but now seeing him like this, it was a whole other side. He looked up at you with his pleading eyes, and they were utterly gorgeous. 

“My mom...my mom doesn’t make a ton of money. She barely makes enough to send to me school here, or buy me stuff like new clothes or uniforms each year. I almost never see her because she has to work so hard for me and my brothers...those...assholes had something to say about it and I kind of...snapped. No one can say shit about my mom when they don’t know how hard that she works for us.” 

Your eyes fell to his scuffed and worn sneakers, and it all made sense. 

“Then they found the letter...I didn’t want them to ruin the last good thing that I had going for me.” 

In that moment, the whole world became silenced. You were the last good thing going for him and you had never even known. 

Then, he smiled, broken as it was, bit it was still embodied his gentle warmth that you had fallen in love with all those years ago. 

“But! It turned out okay I think.” Jeongin said with a sigh. He glanced down at your interlocking hands on your lap and chuckled a little bit. “Kinda cool that this worked out though. Maybe we could spend the summer getting to know each other?” 

This time, you let one of your happy tears drip down your cheek, and nodded gleefully. “Okay. I’d like that.” 

Jeongin smiled, just as you had seen him do it a hundred times, but this time you knew that it was all for you. 

“Can I...can I kiss you? If that’s okay? I-I’m sorry if this is really forward...I just...really want to.” He asked gently, then wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumb. 

You nodded, feeling  your whole body shake just a little with your nervousness and anticipation. The world appeared to melt away once he had leaned in to press his lips on yours as softly and as carefully as he could. In that moment, you had forgotten where you were, what time it was or the rest of the beautiful summer day outside the doors of that school. Here, it was just you and him. Embarrassing as it was, this had been your first kiss too. Your mind raced with a million thoughts, asking yourself if you had been doing it right, but once you felt him smile lightly into you, your chest shivered with a sense of relief. 

You had never expected kissing to feel like this, and it was a bit strange feeling something so close and intimate right on your own skin. At the same time, it felt like nothing else in the entire world had, and you only wanted more and more of it. He was cautious and respectful in the way that he had tilted his head, and loving how he had cupped your face with his hands cracked and bruised. You didn’t know where to put your hands at first, but settled one hand on his thigh, and the other on his shoulder where you tugged at his white button up stained with dirt. 

He too shook with a sigh, readjusting himself, then ran one of his hands down your arm to hold your hand were it rested on him. He tangled your fingers together, and made a tiny little gasp feeling you connect with him. In seconds, he allowed himself to grow rougher, running his lips over yours with a type of fervency that teased at your bottom lip where you felt the warmth of his tongue. It took no more consideration, and you gave him the permission to meet the heat of his tongue with yours between parted lips now becoming a bit swollen. 

Jeongin broke your connection for moments, and a different kind of haze took over his eyes. The way that he looked over your quivering lips sent shivers through your whole body, and he dragged his thumb over the tiny streak of saliva that shone on your lip. 

“Is it okay if I touch you? In other places?” His eyes fell, and you giggled at the way that a kind of lust-filled hunger seemed to overtake him. For years you had fantasized about him ravishing you like this, and giving love to every inch of your body no matter how hard it had been for you to do that same to yourself. Still, as hesitant as you were, you feared that he would get a taste of all of you, and still change his mind. 

“Really?” You stammered, instinctually crossing your arms around your chest. “You don’t think that I’m gro--”

“If you’re about to say “gross” don’t.” His expression became much more serious. “I-I’ll say it again a million more times if I need to: you, all that you are, is what I’ve been thinking of for so long, I’d love to touch you wherever you’ll let me.” 

This time, you didn’t know if the tears were happy or sad, but regardless, the fat drops still fell down your cheeks. 

“--And you can say no too. If you’re not comfortable, we can just keep doing what we were doing...there’s nothing wrong with that at all.” 

The dim yellow light in the room buzzed, and you had recalled all the many number of times that you had pictured the very scene about to occur. On lonely nights, you wished to have felt his hands all over you, and now, they really could be. 

“What do you say?” He asked, and squeezed your hand along with his. 

“Can we...go slow with it? I’ve never...no one has ever offered to--” 

“Of course we can.” He smiled adorably, which was a bit odd considering what he had just proposed. “But...I didn’t hear you say yes?” 

“Yes.” You quickly added with a nervous inhale, but held his gaze with your assurance. “I-I want you to.” 

The boy from the other class grinned, then took to carefully running his hands down your arms once more, and craning his neck to plant sweet little kisses into your neck: the stimulation from which made you whimper out of your own accord, and he giggled upon hearing it. 

“You like that?” He whispered greedily, then continued sucking a little harder. Jeongin shrugged down your sweater from the collar, and his wandering hands circled little rubs into your bare arms. 

Next, his fingers crept up slowly and cautiously at the bottom of your shirt, testing at first, but not pulling up the fabric all together. His cold fingertips buzzed on your skin in that drafty room, and he brought his lips back up to yours, also making tiny trailed gasps as he crept up all the way to your breasts. The moment that he touched them, both of you appeared to shiver on each other’s bodies, and your kisses grew even needier. At first he cupped over the padding of your bra, kneading and squeezing to play with the way that they jiggled slightly then pulling a bit harder, and relishing the way that they filled up his palms. 

“Does this feel good?” Jeongin asked on your lips and you nodded back immediately. 

The two of you leaned back on the aged couch, and the young man cradled your head to guide you into the cushion of the upholstery. He admired you for a few moments under him with one leg between your thighs and the other supporting himself and slipping a little on the cement floors. His thigh was just close enough to the heat of your arousal between your legs, and it ached and throbbed so badly, you were convinced you had never felt a feeling as intense as this. He leaned in closer, and pressed the muscle into your clit, and a muffled moan caught on your lip that surprised even him. 

“Can I touch you even closer?” He asked, and those ashy grey-brown strands of his dipped over his eyes. 

“Y-yes...please.” You found yourself begging, and he mischievously grinned at your desperation. 

Under the cotton of your shirt, his fingers slipped under the padding of your bra to toy with your breasts directly. He kissed even more tiny quaking breaths into your mouth, finally finding your hardened nipples and tweaking them with his thumb and index. He pulled lightly at them, making your buds even more sensitive. You cried out with a helpless “ah!” and he stopped, worry across his face as if he had hurt you. 

“F-feels really good. Don’t...don’t stop please...Jeongin...” 

Absentmindedly, your hips had started to grind against his leg, and he had taken notice of it too. Had you been a bit more attentive, you could’ve seen the way that his member had swelled in his navy slacks, and throbbed, begging for attention too. 

You could barely watch, but he hiked your shirt up, baring your cushy tummy for him to see only and you threw your embarrassed arms over your face. As long as you had kept the evil words at bay, they were much more seductive than any affirmation you could’ve repeated to yourself. 

“Oh-are you okay?” Do you want me to stop?” The young boy immediately stopped and removed his hands. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“N-no...it’s just...I’m really nervous be-because I’m--” 

He sighed, then pulled your shirt down once more. “I can stop doing that for now. But...I just want you to know...I think that everything about you is even more beautiful than you know and these...imperfections--which they’re not--is everything that drives me crazy. Please don’t think that I see you negatively at all. I promise that I want to make you feel good everywhere.” 

“Mm-okay.” You shook with a heavy sigh. “You aren’t...disappointed or anything?” 

Jeongin pressed a simple kiss onto your upper lip with a smile “Disappointed? Why?” 

“Because I don’t want--” 

“--No?? I’m not disappointed at all! You don’t owe me anything at all! Especially when you’re not comfortable with it.” 

“Hm, thank you.” 

He continued with a tiny grunt, lowering himself even closer to you, “Can I please kiss you some more?” 

You allowed him, with the warmth of your kisses' meeting in the middle. The heat in your pussy pooled even greater, and you grinded further, thirsting for him in ways that felt forbidden. For a brief moment, you felt the fear seeping back in, head racing with the dozens of thoughts that he might have if he were to see your stretch marks on your belly and on the top-parts of your thighs. The more that you found desire for him, the less that you were convinced that he wouldn’t desire you as much as you did him. 

“Do you want...I can touch down here too?” Jeongin hushed, breaking for a minute to hold your eyes earnestly. “Would that be okay?” 

He had noticed the way that you had pathetically rubbed into his leg, and this too sent your hands over your shy face. 

“M’ sorry...I can’t help...it feels good too...” 

“Don’t apologize! I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way.” Your crush smiled with his eyes smiling in the same way. “You can...probably tell.” 

“--But...what if you don’t like it?” 

He cocked his head, “Like what?” 

Your lip quivered and you found tears stinging your eyes once more. “Don’t like..m-me? What I look like?” 

“What!? Y/n...my head is like frickin’ spinning thinking about what you look under these clothes--can you please believe me?” 

“It...it’s hard to...” Fat tears came waterfalling down your cheeks, and once again the young boy fully stopped his advances. 

“The fact that I’m here with you, kissing you like this after daydreaming about it for so long...there’s nothing more that I want than to make you feel good right now. Trust me.” 

“A-are you sure?” 

“Y/n. I’m 100% sure. And you don’t--you don’t have to even take this off if you don’t want to...” He toyed with your skirt. “But these might get in the way.” He ran both of his hands up and down your thighs and leggings with flat palms, and you felt your whole body ache for more than just that. “Again, we don’t have to if you don’t want.” he gave you a reassuring smile, “We still have the whole summer--” 

“I do!! I...still do...” 

Your quick answer started the both you, but Jeongin still didn’t advance faster than what was comfortable to you. Instead, he carefully snaked his hands up and under your skirt, finding the elastic of the leggings then pulled. 

His eyes blew out, enamored, seeing your bare skin, and he wetted his lips too seeing the way that your underwear had glistened with your essence. It was against your will, but you had soaked through your panties which he had swiped over a couple times accidentally, and the action itself sent an aching quiver to your untouched bud. You watched his every move has he angled his hand to ghost over the wet fabric, making you squeak from the new sensation. After, he found the band to your panties, pulling them down too. 

“Wow.” He gasped, seeing the way that your bud twitched. 

Jeongin dipped his fingers into your wetted folds, teasing at first. 

“Woah.” He said with a little gasp. “You’re really...” 

You stifled a moan with your lip, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer as his digits slicked with your arousal. “I-I know...I’ve never like, done anything like this before.” 

The young boy’s thumb grazed over your clit, eliciting an immediate response, and your heels went digging into the cushion of the couch. 

“This is your first time?’ He asked gently, two fingers now filling up your entrance. 

The best you could, you tried to remain quiet, but the harder and deeper that he had advanced, the harder that it became. Your eyes wandered, right to the pressure he had created under his belt loops, and you wondered furiously what he would’ve felt like inside of you; if he could stretch you out, or what it would have felt to just be like that with another person. 

Jeongin admired the way that your face scrunched up with a prideful little smile, and loved every minute of the way that your mouth would form airy “oh’s.” 

“You like feeling my fingers inside of you? Fucking right into your wet pussy?” 

His gaze held a lusty glaze seeing the way that your eyes blew out upon hearing his dirty words, and it only seemed to make him throb even harder himself. 

“Y-yes...” You mewled, reaching out grabby hands to hold yourself steady on his shoulders, the other going to tug at his belt. 

“I-I wouldn’t mind if you...you know...” 

Jeongin rolled his body over yours, attaching his lips with yours once more just to let the words stick on your tongue. “You want me to fuck you?” 

“Only-only if you want to--” You could barely get the words out feeling your thighs to shake as he coaxed your nearer and nearer with his thumb rubbing circles over your enlarged button. 

“Of course I want to.” He assured you with even more kisses. “Are you sure?” 

You hooked a couple of your fingers to pull out his black leather belt from its confines, muttering a tiny “yes.” 

Jeongin carried out the rest of your job for you, going to quickly clink the metal of his belt away, tossing it to the cement floor haphazardly. From the boxers that he wore, there were a couple little wet stains, and the outline of his dick protruded thickly. Seeing it like this awakened something in you, something primal and feral that wanted nothing more to be connected to this boy and to have him spread you out until you could barely breathe. It was a horribly naughty thought, but as shameful as you felt, it was just as thrilling. 

The boy sprung free his erect member, pink and dripping with his pearly pre-cum, and pumped at it a couple times, eyes raking over your whole body in the way that you had only ever dreamed of. 

“This is actually...my first time too.” 

He had said the words coolly, almost like he didn’t care at all about them, but you had assumed he had done so to keep you from worry. 

“Oh fuck--” He muttered, taking his left hand to reach under your shirt once more and play with your breast roughly. “God, I can’t believe that this is happening.” 

You coyly hiked up your skirt a bit higher for him to get better access, but not all the way, just as far as you could feel comfortable. 

“I might’ve thought about this a couple times...” Jeongin said with a tiny smirk, then slowly dipped his hand back down to wet his fingers with your arousal, then coat it around his length. When he did so, he let out an unapologetic groan that wavered out of his mouth and filled up the room beautifully. 

“I’m gonna go slow, okay? I feel like I heard somewhere that it can kind of hurt for you the first time?” 

You nodded out quickly to let him know, finally becoming impatient enough to claw at his arms all wrapped up in that grey hoodie of his. 

He leaned down one final time, kissing you over before aligning himself with your pussy, kissing down your jaw, then to your neck where he buried his head as he lead himself into you. His arms shook where he held himself up, and the two of you shuddered at the feeling at last: that euphoric, tight, unreal feeling that you shared for the first time. 

You whimpered out, digging your nails into his back, and his breath hitched in his throat too. 

“I-its...s-so..tight.” Jeongin barely got the words out, but merely let himself throb around your velvet walls for a moment. “Y-you okay?” 

“Mmhm.” You said, barely able to get more words out than this. 

Truthfully, it did hurt just a little, but not as much as you had pictured it to be, but it was more like a pressure, and it only grew heavier as you got used to him. 

Jeongin started to thrust his hips slowly, even painfully so, but he maintained his pace dragging his hips over yours. He filled you up so fully it was unfathomable, and his length pressed up against your deepest spot, sending a kind of electricity through your whole body. 

He settled into a rhythm, finally getting comfortable enough to return back to your mouth to slick his tongue across yours, and cradle the side of your face in his hand. You let little whimpers fade into his mouth, as he did for you, and after long, he had decided to speed up just slightly to milk himself off with your tight walls. To your surprise, he reached his hand back down to your clit to rub at it erratically. His pattern made little sense, but compared to how he had been stimulating you deep inside too, you could barely hold on. 

Jeongin grunted, biting into your lip with a trace of teeth. “I-I want you to c-cum first--I can’t...I can’t--” 

Before you could even understand what he had said, the young boy snapped his hips harder, eyes closed and tiny bits of sweat forming on his brow. The pads of his fingers pushed harder, and you found yourself spinning even closer to an orgasm by his hand, the thought alone was enough to fulfil your deepest fantasies. 

“I want you to cum all over my dick for me, okay? Sh-shit...” 

“Jeong--” 

“God, you’re...fuck...” He laughed a little. “I really really like you y/n. I really...” 

It was as if the words had been stolen right from his mouth, and his voice had abandoned him, but all he could do was press harder, faster, glide his hips over you rougher...

“M’ gonna--” You gasped out with your whole core tightening into a knot that was just about ready to snap. The pressure behind your clit was intense and burning, and you became light-headed nearing the brink. 

All at once you came with a searing and inexplainable white heat--much more intense than you had ever felt before in your whole life, and every single muscle in your body quaked as you did so, and you threw your head back to that dusty cushion of the couch. Your eyes rolled back on their own accord, and the best that you could do to muffle your moans was throw your hand over your mouth--which was quickly removed by the young man to do the job himself. 

Your thighs violently shook and you felt yourself tighten around him. He too strung out explicatives as if they were the only words that he had known. You breathed out shallow gasps into his palm, and soon he tore himself out of your walls with incessant breaths, only having to jerk himself off for a few moments before his swollen tip burst with the white strings of his cum. He continued jerking himself as such until he had nothing more to give, and his own thighs shook where he had straddled you. You could feel his warmth on your thigh and the way that it dripped and slicked with the sweat of your leg. 

Jeongin’s entire face flushed with pink, and he stammered out realizing the mess that he had made all over you. 

“I-I’m so sorry...I-I didn’t realize, I wasn’t thinking...I just...” 

While it was a predicament, you mustered the best smile that you could for him, secretly and utterly loving the way that it felt on your bare skin.   

“I’ve got...I can figure something out--” 

“--Jeongin?” 

His attention snapped back to you in your afterglow, and you could practically see the boy melt right then and there. 

“--Don’t worry about it.” 

Just as he had been before, his smile creased into a shy and awkward little line, and he could barely hold your eyes. After the initial embarrassment, he couldn’t help himself but admire you.

“Hey Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t know if you’ve ever heard this before, but I really do think that you’re perfect. If not perfect for yourself, I hope that I can show you how you are to me. You’re perfect for me. You’ve always been.” 

“So have you.” You admitted to him in that cobwebbed room that held all kinds of forgotten trinkets and items. 

“And thank you for giving me your letter too.” Jeongin raised the back of your hand to his lips where he placed a chaste kiss, then helped you carefully back up as to not make a mess of your skirt with the white staining your leg. 

Your crush smiled, then let out a gleeful exhale, “I can’t wait for this summer.” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe - Part 16

in which everyone has a bad time. except kasia. he's having fun

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @chifechi @unicornscotty @penny-for-your-whump @getyourwhumphere @likeit-or-whumpit @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory @justbreakonme @downrivergirl914 @cdragontogacotar @whumps-up @vaguelyhumanvoid @kim-poce @kween-pinescales

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, force feeding, stress positions, references to mouth whump and burns

-

Rowe took to repeating the affirmations every day, whispering them past the newly empty gaps in his gums. When he did them, he could forget for a little while that he was going to die in his cell. At least he could die as something. He wouldn’t let Kasia turn him into an empty husk.

I have worth.

I don’t deserve pain.

I’m a person.

He was careful, of course, to lock them away when Kasia visited. He tried not to associate them with pain; he said them every day when he woke up, not when he was freshly hurting. He didn’t want to ever, ever, say them in front of Kasia.

He knew if he did it would just get him another beating, but they were his. They were precious. They were a relic of Master that Kasia couldn’t corrupt.

He just had to keep his stupid mouth shut when it mattered.

For the first time since his arrival here, Rowe spent a whole day alone. The hours ticked by as he started to see shapes in the floor, and wondered if Kasia would ever return. Was this it? Had he got bored already? Would Rowe be left to die and rot after less than a week, his capture so recent he could still feel Master’s hands in his?

In reality it only meant that when Kasia did come back the next day, Rowe despised himself for the brief flash of relief. The man he was at the mercy of had returned to torture him another day.

Kasia had brought more chains, and restraints, always in his duffle bag, and Rowe had quickly learnt to shrink away at the mere sight of it. Rowe stayed curled up on the floor as he entered, eyeing him like a kicked dog.

“Did you miss me, pup?”

“Please,” he replied hoarsely. “Please give me f-food. Please.”

Rowe would never have dared beg with his first Master. But he had always known that he would be fed, eventually, once he had learnt his lesson. And of course, he’d never needed to beg Master Tomas. But here, there weren’t any rules. Nothing was guaranteed. So fuck it, he might as well try to prolong his life.

“Today’s your lucky day. I actually brought something. You’ll have to earn it, though. No getting on my fucking nerves, yeah?”

You’re the one who chooses to come here, Rowe thought despairingly.

“Okay, okay, just please-“

“Didn’t you just hear me?” Kasia kicked him in the stomach and Rowe moaned. He nodded, wincing as the burns on his neck pressed together.

“Arms up, come on.”

. . .

Tomas had made it from the shower to the downstairs sofa, and he was content with that. Not proud, no, proud would imply he was happy with himself in some way, but at least he wasn’t completely catatonic today. Luca had texted saying to answer the door if it rang, and a part of Tomas still wanted to impress him, despite it all. So he had showered and brushed the last of the blood from his hair. God, how many days had it been?

A small movement on the floor caught his eye. A spider, out of reach, too far to feasibly get him. He felt acutely aware of his own apathy then, as instead of shrieking or running away, he just stared.

The chance of the spider hurting him was practically zero. And yet he was still afraid. Afraid of it crawling over his skin, afraid that it might come near him in the night when he was asleep and vulnerable, and although he knew deep down that it wouldn’t, there was always the possibility of it deciding to run up his leg at any given moment. Even being near it made him afraid.

He thought of Rowe. He felt like he understood something. He sighed.

Luca arrived not half an hour later, banging on the door and shouting for Tomas as if nothing was wrong.

“Hey! It’s me- don’t leave me outside on this cold night. I’m only an orphan boy.”

Tomas pulled the door open. He couldn’t smile, but seeing Luca felt like the weight in his stomach was lifted slightly.

“It’s not cold. And you’re not an orphan.”

“I am happy to see you, though,” Luca said calmly. He was holding a basket, its contents hidden under a teatowel. “I brought you a pull-yourself-together hamper. Some ready meals, dry shampoo, fruit, and stuff. And the teatowel. ‘Cause why not.”

Already Tomas could feel Luca’s warmth seeping into him. He put a hand over his mouth and nodded. “Than- thanks, thank you, you know you don’t owe me anything-“

“I know, handsome lad. But the thought of Rowe being kidnapped is- god, it’s awful. Don’t worry, I’m here of my own free will. Sometimes you just need someone else in the house.”

Tomas let him inside, feeling guilty about the mess, then feeling guilty because he was the one who allowed it to accumulate.

“Let’s open a window,” Luca suggested, and Tomas sloped over. “Want me to get that spider?”

He shook his head, trying uselessly to hide his face. “It’s fine, it’s fine, you can let it stay, I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m-“

His own voice cracking cut him off but he pressed on.

“I’m fine, I really am.”

“You’re not. It’s okay.”

“Just- how- how the fuck did I let this happen. How did I not, I mean, I trusted him this whole- whole time and now it’s all gone wrong and-“

He sat heavily on the floor, leaning his face into the side of the sofa, not blinking, not seeing. He breathed out and time seemed to slow.

Luca’s hand rested on his shoulder, a gentle pressure to his fingers.

“What’s done is done. You can’t help Rowe by falling apart, and you definitely can’t help yourself like that either. It’s, ah, it’s hard. It’s really hard. But you can collapse and cry and disintegrate when Rowe is back, I promise. Do you know where Kasia lives?”

Tomas nodded. “I haven’t even thought about that. I can’t believe myself.”

“Hey, no falling apart okay?” Luca’s tone was firm, and it made Tomas pull his head up, to look at him. His hair, braided in two chunky plaits, hung asymmetrically, one past his collarbone and one down his back. His eyeliner was winged like the letter V, drawn out in a point that came sharply back over his eyelid. Pretty. “That’s good to know, though. You could catch him on his way in or out, try to strike up a deal, I don’t know. I’ve not exactly had any experience with kidnappings either.”

“Yeah, it’s fucking stupid isn’t it. This whole situation is stupid. Fuck.”

Luca just looked at him, a sad smile ghosting over his face.

“I just can’t stop thinking about all the things that might be happening,” Tomas confessed. “He’s unhinged, he really is. He’s sick. And he’s got Rowe and the police don’t care, no one cares.”

“I care. You care.”

Tomas didn’t reply and the words hung over them. Two people caring wasn’t much. But, he supposed, it was better than nothing.

. . .

Rowe’s arms would dislocate, they would they absolutely would, Kasia was setting him up to dislocate both his god damn shoulders or arms or whatever. Rowe could hardly tell where the pain was located, it felt like it was everywhere, burning through his like a fire burns a taut string.

The food- dog food, but still edible, still something- sat before him, emptied on the floor, and from where Rowe knelt he should’ve been able to lean and eat easily. But Kasia had his arms bound and tied to the bars of the cage door, pulling them back and turning any movement into agony. Not only was he bent out of shape, but the burns along his shoulders were irritated awfully. He was sure his skin would burst open any second.

It had been twenty minutes at most, and already he was exhausted. Sweat rolled down him, dripping off his nose. He could hardly breathe.

Kasia’s heavy boot pressed down on the crown of his head, and his moan quickly became a scream of pain.

“No, no please!”

“I thought you were hungry. I’m helping.”

The pressure doubled, forcing Rowe’s face closer to the dog food, until he was close enough to open his mouth and take a bite. Disgust flooded him, and it only increased when he chewed. He swallowed past the collar, his throat pressing uncomfortably against it, and oh god, it felt so good, it was food in his belly, he was thankful for it despite everything. Kasia seemed satisfied and released his boot, sending Rowe’s head springing back to relieve the pressure on his shoulders. The skin near his burns had ripped and were bleeding, but nothing was dislocated.

“You’re definitely still hungry. How about another bite?”

Before Rowe could speak, Kasia had grabbed a fistful of hair, shoving him down, the sudden pull on his arms a thousand times worse than before, worse than anything, the pain was clouding his mind and he couldn’t think of anything but the barest, most built-in responses.

He screamed.

Spit flew from his mouth. Kasia kept pressing, his fingers curling tighter together, and the burning on Rowe’s scalp joined the rest of his body. His fingers were surely purple with how hard Kasia had tied them. Rowe had lost all feeling beyond his wrists.

“Please!”

Kasia ignored him.

“Please, st-stop, please M-M-Master Tomas help me-“

“He’s not fucking coming you stupid dog,” Kasia growled and pulled Rowe’s face all the way down, cracking his chin against the concrete, a deep shooting pain through his face and remaining teeth. He moaned. More skin tore along his shoulders. “No one’s coming to save you.”

A kick sent him lurching to the side, twisting his body until he was sprawled with his back to the floor, staring up at his bound hands, which were a mixture of blue and purple and were not moving at all.

He turned his head to see Kasia grabbing a fistful of the dog food from the floor and stepping over him.

“Mouth open.” Rowe complied and Kasia smiled mockingly. “Good boy.”

The dog food was shoved in, packing against the walls of his mouth, Kasia’s fingers prodding his gums, and it took everything not to vomit. His stomach heaved but nothing came. All he could do was be a good boy, and eat.

“Tomas isn’t your Master. He’s not coming.”

Present tense, thought Rowe as his eyes watered from the taste. He’s not dead.

. . .

Tomas couldn’t stop his legs from shaking as he stood on Kasia’s street, his hands tucked under his armpits for warmth. Yeah, the shaking was definitely just from the cold. Sure.

By the time Kasia appeared, it was night. He stalked down the street, stumbling slightly, and Tomas realised he was drunk. If he hadn’t had a reason to be there, he would have walked away right now, and fast.

When Kasia got close enough, Tomas stepped out of the shadows, forcing Kasia to stop and fix him with a glare.

“Give him back.”

“Or what?” he asked flatly, as if this meeting was no surprise. “Hah, you look like shit Tomas.”

“Give him fucking back, what do you want for him, money? You’re torturing a human being you sick fuck.”

“I’m having some fun with a Pet,” Kasia smiled. “And if you start whining like this I will just kill him.”

Tomas stiffened. “You wouldn’t.”

“You so sure about that?”

“Let him go.”

“No,” Kasia pushed him once and Tomas stumbled back, hitting a wall. He blinked and Kasia’s face was pressed up in front of his. He stank of booze and cigarettes. “Fuck off or I’ll kill him. I’ll hurt him worse to make up for this, too.”

“No, fuck no just leave him fucking alone-“

Kasia swung once, but mercifully something made him miss. Carelessness, the alcohol, perhaps just the assumption that Tomas was too pathetic to move out of the way. His fist cracked against the wall and as he shouted in pain Tomas considered kicking him between the legs, spitting on him, whatever. But Rowe’s life was at stake so, like the coward he was, he ran into the night, Kasia shouting taunts behind him.

Luca looked up when he pushed through the door, panting. He’d run the entire way. Luca stayed silent; the look on Tomas’s face was telling enough.

“I’m a fucking failure,” he whispered, and started to cry.

[infinite-wanders]

Never Have I Ever

... BEEN IN LOVE

Request by @nsain25

I’m not making fun. I love this gum wrapper dude. 

The L word echoed inside his mind as Paxton lay in bed, fiddling the silver paper man between his fingers. He realised that was the second time he’d ever said the word love out loud to a girl, and both times had been to Devi.

The first time was at her party, not long before finding out she had been dating both him and Ben Gross. The fleeting reminder stung for a moment.

It confused Paxton how all he wanted to do was hold Devi and kiss her when he was with her. Being with her made him as happy as when he was in the water.

His phone buzzed at receiving a text. His heart raced to see what Devi was messaging him, only to then feel disappointment when it turned out to be a text from Trent. 

Where were you tonight, bruh? You missed blowing up shit with me and Marcus. 

Paxton’s fingers tapped the side of his phone as he wondered how to reply. 

How do you tell your friends that you’re back with the girl who cheated on you with Ben Gross? 

Trent and Marcus wouldn't understand.

Devi has been the first girl to see him beyond his looks and captain of the swim team. She didn't think less of him for not being good at the academic side of school. Being totally honest, it never really interested him to try when he had swimming to get him into college.

He never realised that if he really tried, he was actually good at school. Maybe he wasn't stupid like he thought. He wanted to believe Devi every time she rejected his pessimistic thoughts. She called him out for not really trying and just believed he could achieve more. He never had anyone call him out except his sister.

Devi's face flashed in his screen, interrupting his thoughts. He swiped to answer her call.

"Hey, just making sure you got home fine." said Devi.

Paxton felt himself smiling. "Yeah, just laying here. Thinking of you."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," joked Devi.

"You know it's only you, Vishwakumar," Paxton replied firmly.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that." After a momentary pause, she said, "I still can't believe you want to be with me."

"I do, Devi. See you tomorrow?"

"My mom will be at work and Kamala will be in the lab so you can come over in the day... maybe through the door this time," she chuckled.

"How about we go out instead?" Paxton suggested.

"You wanna go out? Like in public?" choked Devi. "I'd love that."

Hearing her say love made Paxton's heart race again. "Tight. I'll pick you up at 10. I know I could stay up all night talking but maybe we should probably get some sleep. Sweet dreams, Vishwakumar."

"See you tomorrow. Good night, Paxton."

...

The next day Paxton picked up Devi and headed to Paicoma.

They were laying back on a picnic blanket, looking for shapes in the passing clouds, when they were interrupted with, "Maxi-Pax!"

Paxton's felt his body tighten at the sound of Trent's voice. Trent's face popped up over them, blocking the sky above. "Hey Crazy Devi, how's it going?" Trent nodded in greeting.

"Trent, don't call her that," rebutted Paxton, as he sat up.

"Oh I thought it was another of your cute nicknames, like Lil D," Trent sat down on the mat across from them.

"Paxton's never called me Crazy Devi before," Devi laughed awkwardly to Trent.

"Uh, he's the one that gave you that nickname."

Devi felt her anger increasing, "He wouldn't do that to me."

Paxton felt everything drop inside. Devi has only ever yelled at him once and was something he never wanted to experience again. He could see the mixed emotions on her face as he finally made eye contact, feelings of shame washing over him.

"Devi, Trent's right. I didn't mean it, I'm so sorry. It was something dumb I blurted out just after I found out about you and Ben, and I was still hurt and angry okay."

"I need to go," mumbles Devi as she bites back the tears and takes off.

"Devi wait!" Paxton calls out, as he gets up to follow her.

"Dude, just looking out for you. Did you forget she did you dirty," says Trent.

"Trent, stop. I love her okay," Paxton argued. This warm feeling surged through as he spoke those words out loud for the first time.

Trent's look of concern turned to a grin. "Wait, you're in love bruh? Good for you. Go after her then."

Paxton can see Devi meters in front of him, her head down, unaware she's about to walk onto the street of oncoming traffic.

"Devi, stop!" He yells out hoping to get her attention. She doesn't hear him.

Paxton pushes his legs as hard as he can to reach her in time. He manages to grab her arm and slow her down, but Devi still gets hit by a passing car's side mirror.

The impact makes them fall back onto the pathway, laying side by side.

"Devi, are you okay?" Paxton reaches for her head, scanning for any visible injuries.

Devi's face is streaked with tears. She only replies with a small nod.

"Devi, listen to me. I am so sorry for starting Crazy Devi. I should have said something sooner and put a stop to it."

She still couldn't look at Paxton. Devi knew she made bad decisions but to hear Paxton call her crazy cut deep, and all she could think of was how she wished she had really been hit by that car.

Paxton continued, "Do you remember what I said in the hospital after the coyote bit you?"

"You said it's cool we're friends," she spoke for the first time.

"No before that, when you asked if I thought you were crazy. What did I tell you?"

"You said, "I think you're crazy. But in a good way."

"I still think that. It's one of the many things I love about you, Devi. You see past looks. You believed in me when other didn't."

"You said love again, I rarely hear you say you love something..." Devi looked at Paxton pointedly.

He couldn't help grin at Devi being her unapologetic self.

"Damn, Devi. Your going to make me say it? Yes, I love you Devi Vishwakumar. Now, will you please let me look after you?"

Her eyes wide in disbelief, she couldn't help but mirror Paxton's beautiful and sincere smile.

[mochiiwrites]

🍁✨Autumn Troupe Headcanons!✨🍁

Hooray for more uncensored swearing! Sorry, this took so long! It’s hard to think of things for the Autumn Troupe since I don’t know them super well!

🍁🧡Banri Settsu🧡🍁

Whenever it's time for practice, Banri begins by smacking the back of Juza's head! (Not super hard, but enough for it to piss him off)

Diluc main, that is all. Before he got Diluc he was an Amber main, and somehow was good. Still uses her every once in a while!

Slightly intimidated by languages sometimes, I dunno how to explain it, so hopefully the dialogue does!

“Banri, come here for a second.”

“Hell no, I’m in the middle of a match right now.”

“Banri.”

“Sit your ass down and wait, Chikage! I’m busy!”

"Halika dito! Huwag kang humintay na papatayin kita at iwanan kitang dumugo sa lansangan! Inumin ng mga aso ang iyong dugo at kukunin ng mga uwak ang iyong laman. Gusto mo yan?!" ("Come here! Don't wait for me to kill you and leave you bleeding in the street! Dogs will drink your blood and crows will take your flesh. Do you want that ?!" ) I'm unsure of the translation, since the filipino was from Irumaaaaa_saaaaamaaaaa's comment on my Ao3! I just put it into google translate

“Damn! Fine, fine, I’m comin! Chill out!”

His older sister gave him a leopard plushie when he was a kid, which is why he’s fucking obsessed with animal prints!

Plays drums and almost broke the coffee table because he “jammed too hard” on it!

Constantly messing up Taichi’s hair, or he’s drumming to songs on his head.

*boom boom bap boom boom bap*

“Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace! Kicking your can all over the place, singin'-”

“We will, we will rock you!”

“Haha! Hell yeah!”

🍁💜Juza Hyodo💜🍁

Likes carrying Muku or Kumon on his shoulders! Sometimes they still parade around!

“Are you sure about this, Ju-chan?”

“Yeah, you’re real light, y’know.”

“What the hell are you doing, Hyodo? Practice is soon.”

Chews on things a lot when he’s nervous! He always has gum or a lollipop to avoid chewing on his shirt, his nails and other inedible things!

Uses shorter Mankai members as an armrest, but only the ones who are okay with it! He’s polite like that.

On nights where he just can’t sleep, he’ll go on walks or drive around on his motorcycle!

Terrible with eye contact and looking like he’s paying attention. Sakyo has to snap his fingers at him to make sure he’s listening!

Y’know the awkward sibling hug from Gravity Falls, he and Kumon have done that...a lot. It’s not actually awkward though, they just liked the show!

“Awkward sibling hug?”

“...Awkward sibling hug.”

*embrace*

“...pat, pat.”

....

“Hyodos, what the hell?”

🍁💖Taichi Nanao💖🍁

Cried twice when he got his piercings, the first time was because he was very, very afraid, the second time was because he was so happy that he looked good with them!

Has Heelys! One time, he tried to 'heely' into the rehearsal room, but he immediately fell over!

Plays the ukulele! He wanted to play guitar because he saw someone serenading their partner with it at school! He borrowed Masumi's guitar but bar chords suck and his hands are kinda small, so he settled for the uke!

"Aghhh! How do you play that! That hurts my fingies!"

"I have bigger hands and more experience."

"But you're only like an inch taller than me!"

"Height doesn’t really have anything to do with this."

Has a Tiktok! He doesn't post often, it's more for looking at memes or sick outfits. (He does the dances though! He's pretty good at them but they're all in his drafts since he's not super confident in them!)

Y’know how kids crawl up the stairs really fast. He does that. Constantly. Kazunari joins in, sometimes. It pisses Sakyo off a lot, but he gave up on trying to get them to stop.

"Taicchan, what are you doing?"

"Kazu-kun! I got the zoomies!"

"Nice! Can I join ya?"

"For sure!"

*Rapid thumping up the stairs*

"Aren't you gonna stop them, Sakyo?"

"...If I had that ability, they would've stopped a long time ago. Those idiots don't listen."

He LOVES Sk8 The Infinity! Langa's his favourite character! He's also probably a Reki kinnie!

🍁💙Omi Fushimi💙🍁

(It's blue like his regular shirt and Tumblr doesn't have any other colours ;-;)

Despite being tone-deaf, he hums a lot when he cooks! No one seems to mind it!

Enjoys scrapbooking! He kind of prefers scrapbooks to albums, since scrapbooks have a more homemade vibe, you know?

Gives the best hugs, and tends to hold hands with the younger members when they cross the street!

Regularly has this conversation!

“Banri, have you eaten?”

“I dunno Omi, have YOU eaten?”

“...I have. But that's not what I’m concerned about.”

“...I had a granola bar like, an hour ago.”

“...I’m making you something.”

When he first joined the company, he took notes on what everyone liked and didn't like to eat, plus if they had allergies! He still has it, he just doesn't need to use it anymore!

I feel like something like this has happened once!

“Ah, Omi! Can you help me grab something?”

“Oh, sure. What do you need, Sakuya?”

“Homare asked me to get some of that tea, but I can’t rea-”

*lifts Sakuya like Simba*

“Ah! Omi, haha! What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it! Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s kinda fun actually.”

🍁💛Sakyo Furuichi💛🍁

Absolutely blind without his glasses, like it’s really bad. He walked into a doorframe without his glasses. Thankfully, no one noticed (he thinks).

He has a bit of bubble-wrap in his a pocket all the time and sometimes he uses it as a threat! (Hopefully that made sense...)

“Settsu, move over.”

“I literally can’t! Your fat ass is taking too much space!”

*pop*

“Just scoot your lazy ass over.”

*pop*

“I can’t I already-”

*pop*

“...Alright, I get it! I’ll shut up! Jeez, how is that so threatening...”

“...Asshole.”

*pop*

“...Sorry.”

Definitely told Azami that Santa wasn’t real when he was like 6.

Sakoda got him a mug that said #1 Dad but he crossed it out and replaced ‘Dad’ with ‘Aniki’! Sakyo still drinks out of it, sometimes!

Azami also made him a friendship bracelet when he was a lot younger. Sakyo doesn’t wear it (because it doesn’t fit him anymore) but he still has it! He likes rubbing the beads between his fingers.

Good at trivia! Like, really good. He somewhat enjoys Trivia Murder Party. (I just watched a play through and skipped to a random question, I have no idea if it’s actually hard lol.)

“Which body of water connects the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Wh- How are we supposed to know that?!”

*Sakyo answers ‘The Strait of Gibraltar’ and is the only one who answers correctly*

“Fuck, my thumb slipped.”

“That shouldn’t be allowed. Sakyo’s shitty and old, he shouldn’t be able to know and remember things.”

“Oi, brat. I’m not that old. You’re not the one who got the answer right.”

“You’re not the one who literally never learned this!”

🍁❤️Azami Izumida❤️🍁

Has smacked too many cans/cups out of Itaru and Tsuzuru’s hands!

“Wh-”

“Drink actual water. And jeez, go take a nap or something. Your skin is even worse than I thought it could get. Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one in the Spring Troupe?”

“Ah... I guess, you are right. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“W-well! W-we can’t have you on stage looking like a raisin! S-so!”

Often criticizes Izumi’s eyeliner and ends up just doing it for her. N-not that he minds or anything!

Played Love Nikki at some point, I do not take that much criticism.

Because I think the troupe/play themes are canon, he definitely helped with Shake the Shape and wrote some of RESPAWN!

Always has extra hair ties on him, even though most of the others don’t really need them. Most of the time, the hair ties end up being used for...other purposes.

“Ready.”

“What?”

“Aim.”

“Azami, I swear to whatever god is listening, if you fire that elasti-”

“Fire.”

“...You shitty brat-”

“Oh shi-”

Part of the ‘wears nail polish’ squad! He hates stickers. (Most of the time they somehow fall off) His go-to is an alternating pattern of black and red.

[fbfh]

dating percy headcanons 2: electric boogaloo

~900 words

ask and you shall recieve uwu

Honestly what hits hardest about this boy is the idea of having all of his attention on you

Like he just looks at you and you can feel his passion so hard you take psychic damage

You are genuinely the entire focus of his world

You are his long term hyperfixation

It's almost,,, too powerful

But not quite lmao

He's just so…

……. 

Nice…..

To be around

And you get to be around him whenever you want

He has such a calming aura

It's like

Oh fuck that's what it is

Sidebar real quick

Air has positive ions and rain and other big bodies of water like the ocean or waterfalls have negative ions which help you feel calm and can actually give off a similar effect as antidepressants which is why a lot of  people like storms sm

Since he's yk

The son of the sea god 

He 10000000% has an aura of negative ions and it's almost impossible to feel stressed around him

Or if you do (yr feelings are valid) he helps you feel a lot better

His kisses are so nice

[Screen shot of let's discuss his kisses from part one radial blurred]

He has about a million and one ways to kiss you 

But here's some highlights

He loves wrapping his big ole arms around you 

Has a Nice 👌 dorito shape and these buff arms

Like all of them are buff from years of sword fighting and struggling to stay alive yk

But his specific arms hugging you

One around your waist, one hand on the back of your neck 

He makes you feel so at ease with him

His lips are always soft

Probably tastes like salt water taffy or coke

He loves surprising you with cheek neck kisses

If you're doing anything he'll just run up behind you 

Press a big big smooch just below your jawline 

And run off

You start trying to surprise him but unless you're pretty tall you can't reach lmao

Me

He sometimes just like

Holds you real close

A finger running over your cheek

The other hand probs resting under the hem of your shirt

He's staring, head kinda tilted and you know he's in full Admire mode

He kisses you really gently, only pulling away cause he smiles half way through 

Totally rests his forehead on yours after a kiss 

Speaking of, if you give him forehead or nose kisses

He actually short circuits from love and cuteness

He has a salty aura

Literally and figuratively 

Like if you stand a foot away from him and stick out your tongue you'll taste salt 

You make him smile way more than you'd expect 

He gives you a lot of those classic Fond Looks where he just has a little smirk and is smiling with his eyes and you can feel that you have all his focus and attention 

He doesn't get like super serious or anything but you find yourself having to break the tension more than you'd expected

He has really strong feelings which under the right circumstances,,

Usually during quiet moments,,,

He can get a bit I'd die for you

"I'm going to make sure you're always okay, Skittles, even if I die trying-"

"Ah, yes. I hear death by chocolate is the best way to go."

"???"

"Well, the only way I can think you would possibly die to ensure my happiness is by convincing Zeus to rain chocolate down on me, in which case you'd be right with me because there's no way I'm letting you miss a chocolate tsunami."

He starts to laugh then gets serious again 

"I mean, if it came down to it,"

"Worst case scenario?"

"Yeah-"

"Well worst case scenario, we'd both just eat our way out. We can handle a chocolate tsunami together, hands down."

You have him actually laughing now

You gotta keep him on his toes a little 

It can be really hard sometimes but you love surprising him 

It's hard bc he knows you so well that he can always tell when you're planning something 

What makes it worse is that he never lets on that he knows 

you love making him pre swim meet gift bags 

I'm talking snacks, fuzzy socks, those blue Gatorade chewies, a (matching) friendship bracelet, gum, notes in Greek, little doodles, Polaroids, a piece of paper with a lipstick/lip balm kiss

The whole nine goddamn yards

Always coming up with new ways to surprise him

Once you have him a jar of Hersheys kisses that said "kisses for when I'm not around"

He showed people photos of it cause he thought it was too adorable 

Every single person on the swim team is jelly of you two 

Percy brags about you all the time 

Talks about you so much you're surprised how much his teammates know about you

Before a big meet you got the whole team push pops in their favorite flavors  that said "push yourself! Good luck!" 

They all love you even more

You've learned from experience to bring an extra shirt to swim meets

Bc the first thing that this boy does as soon as he's out of the pool and able to is hug you so so tight

Neither of you care about how wet he is or how damp you get 

A collage of your top 5 cutest post swim hugs makes the yearbook and the school newspaper

Like I'm not saying he's the best boyfriend but yes I am

That's exactly what I'm saying 

[kaitoujokerscans]

The Night the Silver Cape is Set Ablaze CH7

<7> Joker Breaks In!

Around the same time, another phantom thief — Joker — was hard at work on another caper. This particular caper was...

"Huuuh? A... recipe?" Hachi asked as a stiff breeze blew against his face. Joker, similarly buffeted by the wind, forced a smile as he answered.

"Yep, exactly! Sounds interesting, doesn't it?"

"But that's not important right nooooooooooooow!" Hachi said, screaming. They were falling rapidly. They were in the sky, several thousand meters above the ground. It was cold, and the air was extremely thin. Furthermore, the two of them were freefalling without any open parachutes. It was enough to make him envious of Hosshi, who was staying at home today. "W-What are we s-supposed to do here!?"

"We'll be fine. We've got this." Joker pointed out the thin layer of fabric between the arms and torso on the bodysuits they were wearing. "This is called a wingsuit. It's used to glide through the sky. We can land at our destination without attracting attention this way."

What Joker said reached Hachi's ears over the radio. But it was pitch black all around them, and the only things he could see were the city lights twinkling far below. The sheer terror got the better of him and he could hardly think straight. It was a far cry from how they usually flew with Balloon Gum. All Hachi knew at the moment was that they were headed somewhere Joker had sent an advance notice to.

"What's this recipe supposed to beeeeeee!?" Hachi yelled. Joker answered as he normally would.

"Hachi, you've heard of the soft drink called 'Riviera', yeah?"

"I-I know about it, but...!"

"The recipe for it is one of the world's best-kept secrets, and it's only known to a handful of people!"

"I-Is that so?"

Joker and Spade both love Riviera, the drink of choice enjoyed all over the world. It's served in restaurants everywhere and can be found in any vending machine. It tastes like a mix of sweet syrup and tangy tonic. It's excellent for chugging, and Hachi likes to drink it on occasion himself.

Hachi was quite the cook himself, but true enough, he had no idea what made Riviera taste like that.

"After all, if the recipe got out and suddenly anyone was able to make it, they wouldn't be able to sell their drinks, right? So only the top members of the company that makes Riviera know the ingredients and their ratios."

"T-That makes sense...!"

"Word is that the secret recipe is kept at the company's innermost level, strictly guarded in a safe."

"Joker-san, don't tell me the reason why you're trying to steal the recipe is because you just want to drink a limitless supply of Riviera?"

"Heh heh, it's a secret♪"

"That doesn't tell me anything!"

The duo continued to drop rapidly. Hachi took a glimpse down and saw right below — well, probably still a few hundred meters away — the lights from houses and tail lamps of cars driving on the road. The color drained from his face.

"All right, it's about time for us to start gliding. Spread your wings!"

"Okaaaaaaaay!"

Joker and Hachi unzipped their wings. While they were still falling at the same speed, suddenly they were zooming at an angle. It was like they were slipping down a playground slide. Their untethered bodies skimmed through the air like gliders, and a blast of wind hit Joker and Hachi's faces from the front this time.

"I see it! Over there!"

A large building blurred into sight. It was conspicuously distinct from the other structures around it. The whole building was curvilinear and shaped like a bottle. A bottle of Riviera, in fact. It was already nighttime, so there were no lights streaming out of the windows.

"We're gonna land on the bottlecap!"

Joker made it sound easy, but from where they were, it would've been like placing a speck of dust on the tip of a toothpick. If they weren't attentive and precise about it, they'd fall headlong into the ground instead. Even so, Joker didn't drop speed. Confidently, he plunged straight toward the Riviera bottlecap.

Joker had the courage to dive right into things without hesitation. Hachi admired that. It used to be that Hachi thought about every possible consequence and would often end up not doing anything at all because he was afraid of failing. But Joker typically took action as soon as he came up with a plan. He had once asked Joker about it before.

"Joker-san, how are you so brave?"

"Well, you never know what'll happen until you try, yeah?"

"But isn't that even scarier if you don't know how it'll turn out?"

"It's the other way around. There's only so much in the world that people can imagine. Most of what actually happens is stuff you never would have expected. So don't you think it's better to just do it?"

"You might have a point..."

"Master once told me that 'knowledge can't beat experience'. Which means that right now, I'm no match for Master. But if you flip your thinking, that means that if I get all kinds of experience, one day I'll be able to win against Master. If I'm too scared to try anything, I'll never be able to beat him," Joker said with a smile, and started writing the advance notice for his next target.

When he heard the reason why Joker had so much motivation and the things Silver Heart had taught him, Hachi felt like he understood. It was exactly because Joker didn't know what was going to happen next that he was always able to act immediately.

"Okay, we're almost there, Hachi!"

Joker's yell brought Hachi back to the present. The Riviera bottlecap roof was coming up to meet him. The rooftop seemed to function as a small heliport.

"Drop your speed on the count of one-two-three!"

"Roger!" Hachi acknowledged and gripped the cord on the side of the wing. He had been told that when he pulled it, he would slow down.

"All right, on your mark! One..."

Hachi tightened his grip on the cord and adjusted his timing.

"Two..."

Hachi was ready to pull on "three", but then Joker said:

"...and..."

"WHAT!? 'And'!?" In his surprise, Hachi pulled the cord on instinct. A tailored parachute billowed out and he slowed down dramatically. At that speed, he was going to drop down before he made it over the bottlecap.

"Oh shoot! Hachi!" Joker pulled his cord. Losing speed, he changed orientation so that he was now facing Hachi. He caught him in both arms.

"Joker-san!"

"We'll be fine! We should be able to make it, just barely!"

But Joker was just saying that to calm him down. The duo stalled in the air as they were almost to the bottlecap roof. Just out of reach, they slowly dropped down. Without anything supporting his weight, a chill ran down his spine.

"Agh, and we were so close, too~" Joker commented laxly. "That's the end of that. My Balloon Gum's in a pocket underneath my wingsuit..."

"Whaaaat!? Please, that's not funny!" Hachi exclaimed. He promptly pulled one of his ninja tools, a grappling hook, out of his pocket and tossed it up. The hook caught on the rooftop fence with a clank and the two of them stopped in midair.

"Whoa! Thanks, Hachi!"

The two of them climbed up the rope and finally made it onto the rooftop.

"What was that about!? You said to pull the cord on the count of one-two-three! What was 'one-two-and' supposed to be!? You didn't tell me there would be an 'and'!"

"Ha ha ha, it just looked like the timing wouldn't match up. But we had a pretty exciting experience thanks to that, don't you think?"

"That was an experience I didn't need to have!" Hachi exclaimed, squirming. It was important to do all sorts of things and gain experience. But there were some things that he really didn't need to experience. Hachi was sure of that now.

The duo ran silently over the empty rooftop and crouched down close to the entrance. Since Riviera HQ was home to the secret recipe, security was always strict. It didn't even overlook anyone coming from the sky. Flying in slowly would take too much time and was more likely to trigger the defense system. That was why Joker had opted for this method to get in rather than using Balloon Gum.

"Though it's strange that there aren't any security guards on the roof."

"Yeah, it might be a trap to lure us in. Sounds like fun. I'll take the bait."

Joker unlocked the door, entered, and quietly stepped into a dark stairwell. He took a look at the map on his phone and pulled up the route info. "The recipe is in the safe on the top level. Usually nobody goes on this floor. There are three obstacles standing between us and the safe."

"Three obstacles?"

Joker approached the door to the top floor. "The president of this company is a bit eccentric. The defense system's set up so that the safe won't open unless you solve three puzzles. If you can figure out the answer, then you can move on."

"Puzzles?"

"Yeah. So the obstacles are like a test for anyone who wants to open the safe," Joker said, and opened the door leading into the top floor. A long, dim corridor lay ahead. Joker and Hachi put on goggles that let them see infrared sensors and wriggled their way along. Soon enough, they reached a large door.

"All right, this is the first obstacle." Joker turned his gaze up to where a huge sign with a puzzle written on it was hanging on the door.

 [Question]

8            1            6

1            5            9

8            3            4

"Enter the number equal to the eight."

 There was a numerical keypad underneath the sign. They were probably supposed to input the correct number with it.

"So this is the puzzle..." Hachi looked at the numbers and tilted his head. "I wonder why these numbers are in such a random order? And it says 'equal to the eight', but there are nine numbers in all, so I don't get what it means by 'equal to'."

"You don't? The numbers aren't exactly random, either." Joker looked at the numbers and smiled a little.

"Joker-san, you figured it out already?"

"Of course I did."

 What does "equal to the eight" mean? Let's all think about it with Hachi!

Hint: Try adding the nine numbers up horizontally, vertically, and diagonally!

The correct answer is coming right up!

 "Hmm~ I don't get it at all!" Hachi put up his hands in resignation. He had given up.

"Yeesh, fine. This number arrangement is called a 'magic square'."

"A magic square?"

"Look closer. If you add up the three numbers in a horizontal, vertical, or diagonal line, they all come to the same sum."

"Huh? They do?" Hachi looked up and tried adding up the lines. 6+7+2=15, 8+1+6=15, 6+5+4=15... whichever direction he added them up in, they always came to the same total. "You're right! That's weird!"

"This magic square has 3 horizontals, 3 verticals, and 2 diagonals, which makes for 8 sums in all, right? Since they're all the same number..."

"Oh, I get it! 'Equal to the eight' is asking for the sum of the numbers, which is 15!"

"Right on!" Joker punched "15" into the keypad. The door unlocked with a clang. "Okay, let's go deeper in!"

Once they went through, the door closed behind them, and they came before the next door. There was another puzzle on this one. This was the second obstacle. The following was written on the sign.

 [Question]

Assume:

0 > 2

2 > 5

5 > 0

Given {2, 5, 5}, which one wins?

 Just like before, there was a numerical keypad underneath the sign.

"I don't get this one at all either..."

"It doesn't look like these arrow-like marks are supposed to mean that the left number is bigger. If they did, the first two expressions wouldn't be possible."

"That's true..."

"It asks 'which one wins', so maybe this mark just means that the number on the left is 'stronger'."

"Can a number be 'strong'?"

"Maybe these aren't numbers in the first place. Maybe they represent something else." Realizing something, Joker stroked his chin.

 Which one wins? Let's all think about it with Hachi!

Hint: Try counting on your fingers and see what it looks like.

The correct answer is coming right up!

 Hachi folded his arms, tilted his head, and stared at the question. It looked like he still didn't have a clue, so Joker gave him a friendly suggestion.

"Hachi, if you don't know, try counting on your fingers."

"On my fingers?"

"Yeah. Use your fingers to visualize the numbers. Try doing it with both hands, starting with the first expression."

After being told this, Hachi tried counting with his fingers. For 0, he balled up his fist into a rock-like shape, and for 2, he stuck out two fingers, forming scissors.

Wait. Rock... and scissors...?

"AAAAAAAH!" Hachi exclaimed. "I've got it, Joker-san! These numbers represent rock-paper-scissors!"

"Exactly. Now you know." Joker flashed a scissors sign.

"Yes! The numbers are the number of fingers sticking out. So 0 is rock, 2 is scissors, and 5 is paper."

"That's right. 0 wins against 2 because rock beats scissors. Likewise, when you have 3 against 5 — scissors and paper — scissors wins. And lastly, when you have 5 and 0..."

"5, which is paper, wins!"

"You see? Which brings us to the question written below. When you have 2 and 5 and 5..."

"It's scissors against paper and paper, so scissors wins! Which means 2 is the right answer!"

"Right on!" Joker said and punched "2" into the keypad. The door slowly opened. At the end of the hallway, they saw a massive door.

"Oh, that must be where the safe for the recipe is!"

"Yep. In order to get there, we'll have to clear the final obstacle."

The door leading to the safe was stout and didn't look like it could be broken through easily. This one, like the others, had a sign hanging from it with one last puzzle.

 [Question]

5            2            2            2

0            5            0            5

0            2            2            2

0            5            0            5

Push the button for the number that doesn't lose.

 Unlike the previous ones, there were buttons on the sign itself this time. This meant that one of the above numbers was correct, and when it was pressed, the door would open.

Hachi took a look at the numbers and tilted his head yet again. "Is this... rock-paper-scissors again?"

"Yep. It's only 0 and 2 and 5, just like before, so we can probably assume that's the case..."

"But I don't really understand this arrangement or what 'doesn't lose' means..."

"Hmm, maybe it's like the magic square we first encountered...?" Joker studied the numbers closely and brainstormed.

 Exactly which number is the one that "doesn't lose"?

Think about it in terms of both the "magic square" and "rock-paper-scissors" you saw before! Hint: you don't have to add up the numbers this time. Just think about it horizontally, vertically, and diagonally!

The correct answer is in the next chapter!

While Joker and Hachi were racking their brains over puzzles, Queen, Roko, and Purple were having tea at a late-night cafe. The train had arrived in town without further incident and they had the secret file in hand. Purple had some spare time before she had to turn the file over to an ally, so now she was going to talk about Noir over tea.

The three sat facing each other in the back corner of a small cafe. Purple leisurely began to speak. "Silver and Noir are complete opposites."

"Opposites?" Queen asked, taking a sip of her honey latte.

"You already know that Silver is a man as lively and bright as the sun. Everyone takes a liking to him. His roguish personality just captivates people. He has luck and natural ability. All of this made him an extremely talented spy. On the other hand, while Noir is also talented, he has to put in effort. He gathers all the intel he can before a mission, analyzes it with a cool head, and executes his plans without a single hitch. Noir goes in thoroughly prepared — that's his style. Noir stayed active even after Silver quit being a spy, and some people even call him the 'legendary spy' now..." Purple dunked a cookie in her black coffee and munched it. "But Noir has a grudge against Silver."

"Huh? Why?" Queen asked, confused. If they had gotten along as spies, there was no reason for him to hate the phantom thief Silver Heart.

"Well. Once Silver became a phantom thief, he started to get a lot flashier. He had always been a daredevil with an affinity for showing off. As ostentatious as his capers were, there were more than a few occasions where he failed spectacularly. Noir got tangled up in those spectacles quite often."

"Noir was involved with Grandpa's work?"

"It'd be more accurate to say that Silver always barged in when Noir was on covert infiltration missions and made a mess of everything."

"What...?" Queen and Roko's faces clouded over.

"The success of our spy operations hinges most of all on not being spotted. We infiltrate without alerting the enemy, do our work, and leave without attracting attention. The longer it takes them to notice that they've been breached, the more likely it is that the operation will be a success. In that sense, as soon as there's any uproar, the operation is a failure."

"Sounds like unforgiving work..."

"I can see why a spy wouldn't want their presence to be known, though," nodded Roko understandingly.

"Right. That's why Noir carries out his missions in secret, never letting anyone know he's there. But Silver Heart was completely different."

"Ah..." Queen realized something. "I get it. A phantom thief sneaks in, but not without anyone's knowledge. They send advance notice."

"Precisely. Phantom thieves boldly proclaim that they're breaking in, reveal themselves when everybody's looking, and steal the treasure dramatically while they're all in shock. Isn't that what Silver always says? He was always a showoff, so that suits him," said Purple. She exhaled and gave a shrug. "Besides, Silver tended to go after the treasure of money-grubbing crooks. Noir would receive a directive, plan everything down to the finest detail, and then once he got there, advance notice from Silver came in. What do you think would happen then?"

"The enemy would be on alert, and it'd make espionage that much harder..."

"That's exactly it. Silver was probably using the same network he had used as a spy to locate treasure. Silver threw a wrench in Noir's work on more occasions than he could count."

"That many times...?" Queen was surprised. Now she understood why Noir would be angry. But wouldn't Silver Heart have realized...? When she asked about it, Purple shook her head.

"...Unfortunately, Silver Heart is clueless about the whole thing. That's his greatest fault. Silver had no way of knowing that Noir was at work behind the scenes. Noir couldn't afford to have his mission be compromised, so he couldn't even say he was there. He had to give up, knowing that his mission had failed because of Silver..."

"So that's the story..." Now that she knew Noir's circumstances, Queen sympathized with him a little. Silver Heart's capers were indeed grandiose affairs and would definitely have interfered with any espionage going on. And since the man himself was completely oblivious and stole without a care in the world, she could understand why that behavior would incur wrath.

"I feel sorry for Noir..." Queen murmured. Purple snorted.

"Well, if you ask me, Noir's at fault too. Of course it'd annoy me to have someone get in the way of my job. But a real spy works around it. If a phantom thief appears and you take advantage of the confusion to accomplish your goals, you might be able to have an easier time of it. He could have even set it up to make his deeds look like Silver's handiwork. Noir just didn't exert himself."

"Oh, I see..."

"You've got high standards, Purple-san."

The pair voiced their respect for her.

"Oh, also, Grandpa is going after a treasure called the Lachla Crown. Apparently it's something he and Noir were looking for back when he was a spy..."

"The Lachla Crown? That explains it. You could say it ties Silver and Noir together."

"What do you mean?"

"Silver fell asleep, and because of that, the two of them weren't able to locate the hidden treasure. I remember Noir was really infuriated about it."

"Then when Noir learned that Grandpa was going after the Lachla Crown..."

"He quit being a spy and took matters into his own hands, it seems..."

"Huh? Noir quit his job?"

"Yes, just recently."

"Oh..." Queen pondered this. If Silver Heart targeting the Lachla Crown really had prompted him to quit being a spy...

Making up her mind, Queen stood up. Purple spoke to her.

"You're going? In that case..." Purple handed her a slip of paper. "Noir has been frequenting this place since he quit his job. I already looked into it."

"Thank you, Grandma." Queen took the note with gratitude.

"Don't mention it. Anyway, Queen, you were quite sensible back there. Would you be interested in doing some spy training under me?"

Then Queen answered with a little smile. "Thank you. It's not a bad offer, but I'll never be cold-blooded enough to be a spy."

"Ha ha ha, you really are Silver's disciple. And you're headstrong to boot. Just like me when I was younger."

Roko paled for a moment at this, but Purple gave a wink and smiled.

"Hee hee, thank you. Until next time, Purple-san!" Queen said. Then she and Roko ran off like the wind.

Several hours after their conversation...

Silver Heart was at a chic open-terrace cafe in Paris. The aroma of his espresso lifted his spirits. He took a hand mirror out of his pocket and fixed his appearance.

"Heheh. Hello, good-looking..." He couldn't stop grinning. Silver Heart was about to meet up with Her Majesty, the Queen of the Kingdom of Pandora for a date. She was busy with her official duties, but had a sliver of time available. The two of them had planned to take that opportunity to go on an incognito date. Her Majesty was going to escape the castle using Balloon Gum that Silver Heart had given her.

Just the words "incognito date" made Silver Heart giddy. "Heh heh heh, just like in Roman Holiday." Dropping the title of a vintage film in which a princess snuck out of her palace all alone and got to briefly enjoy the city of Rome, Silver Heart's already mellow expression melted entirely. If Queen saw how he looked now, she would probably slump down in disappointment.

But just then, his melted face hardened back up.

"..." Silver Heart's eyes were drawn to the coaster in front of him. He could see a small "N" written in the corner of the coaster.

This is... It was a familiar sign. It was how spies sent each other secret messages...

Silver Heart's mind flashed back to decades ago. He flipped over the coaster to see familiar letters that he had read often in the past.

 To my sworn enemy, Silver.

To have it out with you once and for all, I have crept out of the world of darkness.

I will steal your treasure.

 P.S. Your girlfriend isn't coming. She should be in the custody of the castle guards by now.

 "..."

Silver put the coaster down and took a breath. So Noir really does hate me... The sudden cancellation of his date with Her Majesty was a shock in and of itself, but not knowing the reason for this grudge left Silver feeling ill at ease.

What's the matter with him...? Silver Heart took another sip of his espresso, just as he heard a screeching voice come from the TV set up outside the cafe.

"This is your host, DJ Peacock! We've just received an advance notice from Phantom Thief Noir!"

"What...!?" Surprised, Silver Heart listened closely.

"I'll read Phantom Thief Noir's notice out loud. —Tonight, I'll steal the 'Lachla Crown' which Phantom Thief Silver Heart has targeted from the passenger ship Urban of the Sea. Phantom Thief Noir. —That's all! This is sure to be a heart-pounding and stimulating develop..."

Not even listening to the report till the end, Silver Heart got up. "..."

As Silver Heart faded into the bustle of Paris, he no longer had the same look in his eyes as when he was waiting for his date. His eyes were quietly ablaze, in a manner befitting the legendary phantom thief.

[jpegjade]

When the Party’s Over - Spencer

WHY IS THIS THE LONGEST THING IVE WRITTEN???? probably bc drunk me is wordy. i do talk a lot when i’m drunk and it gets on people’s nerves. i just really love you guys. i was sad when i wrote this, really sad, and it’s the first “smut”???? ive ever written. so here we go frens and ferns. 

warnings: uuuhhhh smut???

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When the night started, you were at Rossi’s house, getting drunk with the team. It was right after a hard case, difficult on everyone’s psyche so Rossi invited everyone over to relax in the usual way. After pasta and drinks, most of the team was still there while Spencer offered to drive you home since you were not in the shape to drive and he was the only one who opted for water instead of alcohol. He was beat but he wasn’t in the mood to drink tonight. 

Spencer was being a good friend but he had his motives. He wanted to talk to you in the car. You weren’t so drunk that you wouldn’t remember the conversation but your inhibitions were lowered enough to be truly and completely honest with him so you were the slightest bit tipsy but not drunk. You were 100% lucid and could think for yourself but you took the excuse to drink some of the smirnoff you brought and keep going. 

He wasn’t planning for it to happen like this but you were being very outspoken to everyone at the party so he figured it was time to get you home before you were out of a job after calling Hotch, “Hotchner the Grouch.” They found it funny but Spencer knew that you could go wrong easily. 

“Spencer Reid.” You said, staring at him. “I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be as honest as I’m being right now.” 

“Okay. I promise to be honest.” Spencer said, a little nervous. He chuckled anyway because you were so adamant that he answered honestly. 

“Do you like me?” You asked, suddenly very serious. 

“Y/n, you’re my best friend. Of course I like you.” Spencer tried to give you an answer that wouldn’t expose his real thoughts. 

For the past few months, Spencer thought about you a lot. It caused him to avoid you a little bit but you wouldn’t let him stray too far away from you. You kept texting him outside of the team group chat. You continued inviting him over for dinner. You never relented on checking in with his mental health. You never gave up on your relationship with him. 

 You were so focused on his jawline that your hand worked by itself, poking his face. He smiled and made the turn into your apartment complex’s parking lot and parked. 

“While I appreciate the validation of our friendship, that’s not what I mean and you know it.” You said, very serious. 

Spencer looked over at you, nervous to answer. He swallowed and took a shaky breath. 

“Y/n, is it really important?” Spencer tried to avoid the conversation. 

He opened the door and got out, walking quickly around to your side of the car to open the door. He didn’t have to but he wanted to. It’s always what he did. 

“Yes, it’s important, Spencer. I want to know.” You bumped shoulders with him as the two of you walked to your apartment on the third floor. 

Spencer sighed. 

“Yes, I like you. A lot…” You and Spencer arrived at your door, handing you your keys. 

You just stood there, staring up at Spencer. You reached up to touch his hair. It was so soft… You wrapped your fingers around one of the curls and smiled. Spencer stood there, nose ghosting over yours. 

“Do you want to come in?” It was barely audible but it was there. 

“I shouldn’t. You’re not sober. Unless you just want to hang out.” He said, looking at his wing tip shoes. 

“Spencer, get in here. I have literally been waiting almost a whole year for you to say that.” You pulled him to you by his tie and kissed him. 

*****

It was tentative at first. It tasted like spearmint gum. Spencer wasn’t chewing any at the moment so you guessed that he had been chewing it earlier. You liked that. It was refreshing. Slowly, Spencer got more comfortable with the kiss and relaxed and got more involved. It was sweet and gentle and soft. You felt his hands in your hair and felt the gentle pull and you released an involuntary moan. You could feel Spencer smile, the two of you momentarily breaking apart. 

Breaking apart left you speechless and in a daze. It was almost like you were in a fog but your head was clear. You were more than ready to do what you had been thinking about with Spencer for the past year. Some part of you needed this release while the other part of you needed him. 

“So inside?” You said. “The apartment, I mean.” 

“Yeah.” Spencer said, just as dazed.

Getting in the door was a task by itself. You and Spencer tried to go in at the same time and it was quite awkward but he let you go in first. 

You closed the door behind you, pressing your back to the cold surface. Scanning Spencer’s face, you saw that he was staring at your lips. 

“Do you want to continue here or should we...” He asked, looking back up at your eyes. 

“You tell me. I’ll let you take control tonight.” You said, smirking. 

Spencer clenched and unclenched his jaw nervously before licking his lips. You always liked when he did that. He wore chapstick but he never did it for anything other than a sign that he was thinking. 

“I haven’t been in your apartment before.” He said, gingerly. He smiled as you took his hand, guiding him to your bedroom. 

You grabbed your cat off the bed, putting it outside the bedroom and shooing it away. The cat sauntered around to find somewhere else to sleep. 

“Are we really about to do this?” Spencer asked, looking at you on the bed. 

Laying back on the bed, half of you held up by your elbows, you marveled at Spencer. The light from your hallway illuminated his silhouette very nicely. You could see the curves of his arms and his slender frame very clearly. 

“Do you want to do it?” You said, tilting your head a little bit. 

“Yeah, a lot.” Spencer said, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. 

He had dreamed about this moment, literally, but he didn’t know he would be so nervous. He didn’t think it would ever happen. He never imagined you’d be laying in front of him like this. 

“Then drop the pants and I’ll drop to my knees,” You smirked. 

“Do you mind if we skip that part?” Spencer said not really in the mood for a blow job. 

It wasn’t that he was opposed to it, it’s just that he didn’t want to think of you like that yet. He felt like those experiences were for days where there wasn’t much time. Tonight, you had all the time in the world.

“You’re telling me you don't want my mouth on your dick?” You said, confused. 

You stood up, getting close to Spencer. You started unbuckling his belt and he audibly swallowed. He was nervous, not because of you but because he wanted this to go right. There was pressure when it came to something so intimate for the first time with someone. He felt your hands on his hips once you got his belt undone. 

“Shoes on or off?” He asked. 

“I’m taking my shoes off, obviously.” You said, already flipping them off. “Oh, you mean you. Well depends on what you want to do. You can bend me over the side of the bed, fuck me from behind, and call it a night. Or, if you want to draw it out, you can climb on top of me and fuck me in the bed. Oh, there’s also shower sex if you feel gross. Wouldn’t recommend it because it’s slippery and counterproductive to me getting wet.” You were rambling off some of the many fantasies and logistics that you’d thought about over the past year. You had thought about it a lot. 

Spencer kissed you. He just wanted you to take a breath because the more you talked about what you thought about, the more he thought about it. And the more he thought about all the ways he wanted to make love to you, the more he just wanted to get started. 

“Spencer, please pick somewhere because I’m literally struggling to keep it together.” You said in a low tone. 

“Clothes off, on the bed, legs open. I’ve got you tonight, baby.” Spencer said with a little more confidence. 

“Yes, sir.” You said, getting undressed. 

Spencer watched you but at the same time, he got dressed down to his boxers. Staring at you, he wondered how you were able to stay so calm on the outside right now. He didn’t usually have the sex drive as high as this moment. His body was on fire with desire and excitement but he was trying so hard to contain it. 

You laid down in the bed, just like Spencer told you to. He flipped on the light and you protested lightly with a groan and covered your face with both hands. 

“I want to watch you come all over me and lose complete control of your body. I can’t do that in the dark.” He said, walking over to the bed. 

“Well damn. Look at you, Spence. Actually showing some confidence. About damn time.” You said, smiling. You loved confident Spencer in all aspects of life, not just here. There was something about him that made you...want to be laid out in front of him, completely naked like you were now. 

“I honestly don’t know where I want to start…” Spencer said. Climbing onto the bed, he did the first thing that came to mind. 

“What’s your line?” He said, kissing your inner thigh, right above your knee. 

“Fuck, uh…” You never really thought of it in relation to Spencer. “Just don’t kill me.” You nervously chuckled. 

More thigh kisses. You wanted to grab your phone and put on some background music but it was just out of reach and Spencer’s arms looped through your legs and pinned your waist down to the bed. His grip was pretty firm. 

“Spence, can we…” A deep moan cut you off and slipped out your mouth when you felt his mouth finally where you wanted him. 

“Hmm?” Spencer looked up at you while his mouth went to work. The vibrations sent shockwaves up your body. 

“Holy shit. More.” You said. More was what he gave you, slipping in two fingers that matched the tempo that his mouth set. 

You were almost there, Spencer’s hair firmly in your hand and his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer, when Spencer slowed down and all together stopped. 

“I swear to god the room better be of fire.” You said, gritting your teeth. You were so, so close and he was being a tease. 

“You’re being a brat, baby. I promise I’ll give you exactly what you’re looking for.” Spencer said, looking for a towel.

“Don’t be a wuss. Kiss me.” You said, drawing his attention away from his towel search. He was nervous that you wouldn’t want to kiss him after he just went down on you. Crawling on top of you, he just stared at your features before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down to you. 

You hated breaking apart from kissing him, you really did. It left you in a daze, making the light seem a little too bright for your eyes. He rushed over to his satchel, digging in its contents to find the condom Morgan gave him for emergency purposes as a joke one day. Who knew it would come in handy. 

“Are you ready?” You asked Spencer. He chuckled. 

“I was just about to ask if you were ready.” Spencer went back to being a little awkward. He was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to keep up with you. 

“Spencer are you sure you don’t want me to help you out?” You asked, watching him shift as he got rid of his underwear. 

“I think I’m okay.” He said, blushing. 

“Okay well let me know if… Spencer, what the fuck?” You asked, looking down, between the two of you. “And you expect me to take all of that?” 

“Is it bad? I know I’m not like other guys but…” Spencer grew a little shy. 

“No, just work your magic because you’re different than most guys. Spence, just be confident because you are very special.” You said, hoping it helped him come back out of his shell. 

“Breathe, okay? It might be a little… Much.” Spencer said, lining himself up with you. 

“I’m fi…” You were cut off as he gently pushed into you. “Holy shit!” Was all you could breathe out while you tried to catch your breath. Much was an understatement with what you felt from Spencer just barely being inside of you.

He paused to let you adjust but it was tough. You could feel yourself stretching when he started moving a little more to help you relax. He took your leg and hitched it around his waist, making you gasp in shock. That was a completely new sensation that sped up your heart rate even faster, your head getting slightly dizzy. 

“Stay with me, darling, okay?” He whispered in your ear. 

If you weren’t all in with Spencer before, your feelings were definitely there now. 

The pace he set was slow and gentle, soft and delicate like he didn’t want to break you. It was just like you imagined it. Your hands intertwined with Spencer’s as he treated you so kindly. You felt pressure just below your stomach and it was like you couldn’t do anything but shut your eyes and let your body feel it. 

“Just keep breathing, okay? It makes it last longer.” Spencer said, trying to stay focused. His brain was going through the female anatomy but he wanted to stay focused. He opened his eyes as he continued pushing himself in and out of you. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable, taking his right hand and moving his thumb over your cheek. You looked so soft under him. 

“Faster.” You whimpered, the only thing you could manage. 

Everything felt nice, it felt comfortable. You were comfortable with Spencer. You thought it would be hotter, more dramatic when you would imagine it. You imagined him grabbing your hips and plunging himself into you until your body was exhausted and used. But that’s not how it worked. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, quietly. He was going faster and a bit harder, making it very hard for you to concentrate. 

“I’m…” You couldn’t think of the answer. You couldn’t think at all right then.

“You’re doing such a good job, love. Just relax, I’ve got you.” Spencer kissed you on the forehead before shifting your leg a bit higher on his hip. That ignited something inside of you that was hard to turn off. 

Your body was on pins and needles. You felt your body shaking as you held onto Spencer’s hand. He kissed you, soft and slightly frenzied. He was chasing his own release so quickly. Everything moved so smoothly between the two of you. 

Spencer’s body rolled into yours like the ocean, and you were the beach. His waves rushed into your shore over and over, filling you with pleasure you couldn’t find on your own. He was kissing your neck, marking you with sweet mumbles of, “I’m all yours.” 

“Spence…” Another instance of being unable to think or speak clearly. 

“I know, I know. And I want you to let it go for me. Be good for me and let go, y/n. I’m right here.” He said, kissing you deeply. 

Spencer pushed into you a little sloppier, trying to stay composed but it was a challenge. He wanted to make sure you rode out your high, which you were definitely doing. Your body was shaking and you were out of it a little bit as you came down. Spencer finished in the condom and kissed you so many times that you lost count. Your cheeks, your neck, your lips, forehead, nose, lips again. 

“Spencer, that was… That was nice.” You said, opening your eyes. He was smiling over you, shaking a little bit. You weren’t sure if his arms were tired or if he felt like you did. You hoped to god that he felt like you did. It worked out so well up to this point. 

He rolled off of you, standing up to get that towel to clean you up. He saw the bathroom door cracked open so he slipped the condom off and put his star trek underwear back on as he went into the bathroom and warmed up a small towel and grabbed a big towel. 

“I got aftercare towels.” He said, walking back into the room. 

You had curled up into yourself, laying down on your side, as you fell asleep slowly. You heard him come back into the room and smiled as he cleaned you up and helped you put a t-shirt on. Putting the towels in your wastebasket, he flipped the overhead light off and came back around to the opposite side of the bed and gently nudged you to let him hold you. 

“How do you feel?” Spencer asked, nuzzling his head into the crook between your shoulder and your neck. 

He felt so warm on your back like that, holding you tight. You felt safe and secure. 

“Spence, I love you.” You mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear. 

“I love you too, y/n,” Spencer said, falling asleep himself.

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