#Why was this in drafts??? Anyway here have it

[seitmai]

Omg finally making my way through my drafts and finishing the comments to all of the chapters so far, better late than never, I guess 😬🤦🏻‍♀️

Steve needed what Bucky had in his life. At first he thought he was jealous. His best friend had an extremely desirable woman who made him drop the player lifestyle the instant he saw her. It took Steve a minute, but he realized he wasn’t jealous of either Bucky or his girl; Steve was jealous of the feeling.

Of course he is

“Bucky, I get it. Believe me I do. But we’ve already tripled the rate of divestiture. Are we to quadruple it? Is it really worth the money we’ll lose?” “I don’t think you get it at all, Steve. But you will one day.“

Maybe soon 👀

“Billionaires shouldn’t exist anyway.” Steve sighed.

“Calm down. I will finance little Amina Rickard’s monthly tuition before you cuss me out. You know I love you. And you knew sending me that picture of her was gonna work. Making my ovaries explode.” You smiled, almost choked up.

That's a marketing strategy for sure 🤷🏻‍♀️

Steve was convinced that the strip of stomach showing between your hoodie and your sweats was more alluring than any stripper outfit could be, because at the sight of it he broke out in a sweat. Your body was calling him to touch, but he didn’t even know who you were.

🤭🤭🤭

“Did you see the new bartender? Just put him on stage, I’ll climb him like the pole.” "Dat azzz tho."

Some would say that it's America's ass 🤭🤷🏻‍♀️👀

Your skin glowed everywhere,and he noticed that you didn’t seem to have augmented anatomy, not that there was anything wrong with that. He just knew that if he had a handful of that ass, it would be real. He stepped behind the bar to watch you, a convenient barrier between you and Steve’s stiffening cock.

He probably was never happier to be mistaken for a bartender 😅

Next, you straightened up and walked around until the pole was nestled in between your asscheeks, widened your legs and undulated on it. Never in Steve’s life had he wanted to be an inanimate object until now.

🤭🤭🤭

His body was lithe, but muscular, and you sensed his power. You bet he could pick you up and hold you upside down as that beard scratched the inside of your thighs to lick your… Wait. Where did that thought come from? You were objectifying your new co-worker.

Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to get through a work day 🤷🏻‍♀️

‘Dont beg here,’ is what you wanted to say. You don’t know why the vision of this man on his knees for you flashed in your mind. Maybe it was his velvet baritone, or maybe it was the feel of his rough hand on yours that got you all bothered, as if his smile hadn’t already made you wet.

I get it 😮‍💨

“There’s a stack in here.” “Whoa! Cool.” Steve tried to look as if he didn’t know there were exactly 10 hundred dollar bills that he’d put in there.

He's like: "yeah totally no clue how much is in there " 👀

You turned and walked out of Regine, a certain warmth in your chest. Must the $1700 in your bag. Or the chicken wings. Nothing to do with the beautiful man you knew was watching until you got into your car.

How can you not feel great with the combination of all three things?

Peach, Part I

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' fest friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky, not for love, but because it's the right thing to do. You are a struggling dance teacher in Atlanta. And what is the quickest way for a dancer to make money in the A? When Steve meets you at one of his businesses and lies to you about a myriad of things, It becomes a sticky situation, especially since the attraction you feel for one another is so sweet.

Word count: 3.5 K

Pairing: Bartender/ Art Dealer (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: Okay. I can explain. Yes, I got carried away with this one too, but have you met me? It's what I do. I feel like we're gonna get a little more angsty with these two, but the payoff might be good. Idk, I just hope that you like it!

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and comes a couple of months before the Bucky Barnes fic You've Got me Thinking. I'm so done for with Steve and Peach. The next part is coming by the end of the week! ☺️

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, angst, financial difficulties, cute tiny dancers, familial feelings, feelings about besties being in love (third wheel?), Steve the businessman, shady people, Steve lying, Steve using an alias, a lil bit of voyuerism (involving dancing) exotic dance life; pole dancing, wild thoughts, flirting, hand holding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

———

Late October

Steve Rogers was frustrated.

His best friend Bucky had recently fallen in love, and instantly Steve’s life became an urgent race to divest their Art business of illegal ties so that Bucky could begin his life with her.

Together with Sam and Natasha, Bucky and Steve ran an art import business in New York which was extremely lucrative.

Except that it wasn’t really.

“Just wait until I see you tonight, Frumoasă….”

Steve glanced over at his bestie, who was turned away and whispering into the phone with a giant grin on his face. Steve shook his head and looked out of the window of the car that Nico was driving uptown to a meeting. He rolled his eyes.

More phone sex with Bucky and his girl. Great.

“Behave. Or I will make you…”

Steve cleared his throat as he listened to the suggestive chatter and shifted in his seat. Bucky and his girl were burning hot.

All of the time.

It seemed impossible.

“I love you too, Frumoasă.”

Steve needed what Bucky had in his life. At first he thought he was jealous. His best friend had an extremely desirable woman who made him drop the player lifestyle the instant he saw her. It took Steve a minute, but he realized he wasn’t jealous of either Bucky or his girl; Steve was jealous of the feeling.

When Bucky ended the call, Steve tried to continue the conversation they were having.

“Everything good?”

Bucky smirked, a look on his face that Steve hadn’t seen before his best friend met the love of his life just weeks earlier. It was an amazing transformation.

“Everything is great.”

Then Bucky frowned.

“Except this timeline. We need to get clean, Steve. Faster. We’re going to have to travel a little more before the end of the year.”

The blond raked his hand over his face.

“Bucky, I get it. Believe me I do. But we’ve already tripled the rate of divestiture. Are we to quadruple it? Is it really worth the money we’ll lose?”

“I don’t think you get it at all, Steve. But you will one day. “

Bucky gave Steve a look that made him roll his eyes again.

“I’ll take the losses, Steve. You and Sam and Nat will get the agreed upon cut.”

Bucky gazed out of the window.

“Billionaires shouldn’t exist anyway.”

Steve sighed.

“We all agreed to speed up, and we all agreed to an equal split of the profits. And losses.”

The two men shared a knowing look. Steve assented.

“Okay, Buck. Let’s get Sam and Nat on the phone; I just want it all to be square. You know they want this just as much as you and I do.”

Bucky smiled at his friend, the oldest he had in the world.

—--

Early November

You smiled at little Amina, who was trying her best on her pliés. Although she was only four years old she had a determination like no other. Her little tongue was poked out and there was a scowl on her adorable little face.

You came over and smooth her brow and took her tiny chin in your hand.

“Relax, Mina. If you’re not having any fun, it’s not worth it. Don’t force it, sweetie.”

Amina smiled back at you and began to giggle, relaxing into the poses.

“See there! It’s better already!”

You widened your smile and spoke to the entire class of 12 little 4-6 year olds. They were adorable in their uniform black leotards and pink tights.

“Remember dancers, hard work and lots of fun, that’s our motto. And one, two, three….”

Amina’s mom, Michelle, came up to you after class.

“Here’s what I have Ms. YLN.”

She deposited half of what monthly tuition was into your hand and held it for a beat. Her eyes were watery but she had a brave smile on as she glanced over at Amina giggling with her classmates. Then, she lowered her voice.

“I’m afraid this will have to be her last class. I just can’t come up with the funds… She loves it so much… We’ll miss seeing you every week.”

Your heart shredded. You made a knee jerk decision.

“It doesn’t have to be her last class. I will send you the paperwork for the scholarship. I’ll see you both next week.”

You smiled and gave both her and Amina a hug as she skipped over to you.

“Thank you, Ms. YLN. So much!”

You smiled and nodded as they left the dance studio that you rented for your weekly classes. The tuition you collected barely allowed you to pay the rent, much less compensate you for your time and preparation.

But you were determined to help these little ones with their dreams. And to see your own to fruition.

—--

“You can’t keep letting these people put dance classes on layaway, Cousin.”

Heat bloomed in your chest. Your favorite cousin, who had everything she ever wanted, whenever she wanted, growing up was joking about layaway. Even now, she had an insanely hot, wealthy guy eating her up. Literally.

“Okay, you know what…”

“Calm down. I will finance little Amina Rickard’s monthly tuition before you cuss me out. You know I love you. And you knew sending me that picture of her was gonna work. Making my ovaries explode.”

You smiled, almost choked up.This was your cousin’s second scholarship student and your family’s 8th overall. You were really blessed, even though things hadn’t come easy for you.

“I think the guy who is trying to breed you all over the place is making your ovaries explode, but okay.”

“Y/N, YLN! I am a demure, respectable–”

“You’re a whore for that man and we both know it.”

“Girl, you ain’t lyingggg! Shit, he’s calling me now…”

“Go get that nut video.”

Your cousin laughed at you.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, and thanks, Sistercuz.”

“Bye Sweetie. Have a good night.”

Easy for her to say.

—---

The jet was delayed in New York because of snow and Steve was late getting started. After he landed and was sat in Atlanta traffic, he was reminded that he wanted to be in and out of the city, preferably in two days, and on to Kansas City as soon as possible.

Atlanta could be a fun time, with many many beautiful women, but he was on demon time. He needed to get rid of the criminal enterprises in the company. Quickly.

The holdings in Atlanta consisted of a handful of exotic dancing establishments. And the strip clubs in Atlanta were known to be dens of considerable iniquity. He was sure it would be easy to make a decision to offload the five clubs in the area.

On the second day, Steve had quickly turned a profit on the first four clubs, borderline dives with mid-level girls. The drugs and prostitution levels were off the charts and there were plenty of shady characters who wanted a chance at those businesses.

He’d saved ‘the best for last,’ a supposedly upscale club called Regine in midtown.

It was supposed to be a classy place, so Steve decided to just drop in to check it out before making a decision. He arrived a little over an hour before opening, stepping into the kitchen from the back alley where he parked his rental car.

“Hey, yo! You the new bartender? I told you to be here at 2, not 2:45.”

The salutation came from a huge guy with a large belly and lots of teeth. He’d be scary to anyone else. This must be Sully. Steve recognized him from the file. He decided to play along, glad that he’d dressed down in a flannel and jeans.

“Yeah, well. Traffic.”

Steve thought it best to say as little as possible. That way he would get the most information.

“Shit, you don’t have to tell me. I have to drive here from Alpharetta every day. The 400 is hell every morning.”

“We need someone with some experience. Someone willing to be paid in cash tips, nothing on the books. You look like you’d prefer that.

Steve stared Sully down, not debunking the myths the latter was making up in his mind. Sully kept talking.

“Also may need to do some security. We get into some… situations up in here.”

Sully took in Steve’s stature and unwavering stare.

“A man of few words I see, Looks like you’ll do. Can you start tonight?”

Steve couldn’t believe this joker, hiring someone off the street.

“Sure.”

This place was not looking like a keeper, Steve thought as he followed Sully for a tour. In daylight, it was passable; in the dark with the right lighting, he was sure it looked swank. Sully told him how to water down the liquor and where the firearms were kept. When his 30 minute orientation was over, Sully left Steve to set up the bar on his own.

“Cory just called in, but Mike will be in later. You should make a lot of tips, our girls are top notch.

Steve just nodded, his hands on his hips as he calculated how much Sully must be skimming off the liquor alone as the latter walked away. Sully came back to the bar and asked a pertinent question.

“Oh yeah. What's ya name?”

“Grant Stevens.”

A little white lie would never hurt anyone, especially if this situation got sticky.

“Aight. Nice to meet you Grant. Tips are not the only perks of this job, if you know what I mean.”

Steve shuddered as Sully lumbered away. He wanted no parts of perks.

—-

A couple of hours later, the girls started arriving, most of them greeting Steve with a polite hello, some skipping it with a grimace, some in their phones, and one, you, listening to music and vibing out. You were different than the weary women who’d passed by ahead of you.

Steve was struck at the serene look on your face as you entered the establishment, braids in a bun on top of your head, eyes closed and your mouth pursed as you hummed and bopped your head to the music, bag slung across your back.

Your skin was dewey, free of make up and those lips, well those lips was what made him do a double take. Your neck was graceful and the cropped hoodie you were wearing did not do a thing to hide your full curves, smooth skin, round tits, long legs, and all that ass. Steve’s palms began to itch.

Steve was convinced that the strip of stomach showing between your hoodie and your sweats was more alluring than any stripper outfit could be, because at the sight of it he broke out in a sweat. Your body was calling him to touch, but he didn’t even know who you were.

He was about to find out however.

Steve stepped to the edge of the bar, ready to give a greeting, but you just bopped on by, oblivious and making your way to the dressing room. It bruised his ego, but the sting was soothed by the sight of you walking away. He stood there for a full minute in shock, but then he shook his head and went behind the bar to drink some water.

“Get it together old man,” Steve grumbled to himself as he tried to cool down. He set about talking to the employees in the kitchen to get more intel on this establishment. The sooner he had enough info, the sooner he could put this one to bed and get away from distractions.

Like you.

—--

“Did you see the new bartender? Just put him on stage, I’ll climb him like the pole.”

"Dat azzz tho."

“Right? And did you see those eyes, those lips? Pretty fly for a…”

You frowned at the chatter around you. You really had to pay more attention to your surroundings. You didn’t notice any new bartender. But knowing these ladies’ taste in romantic partners, you’d bet he was overrated.

You sighed and put your earbuds back in; there was no time for nonsense. You had to warm up properly to protect your instrument: your body.

You looked down at your watch and saw that the doors would open in 45 minutes. You had 20 minutes to go and warm up and still have time to get changed. You sat down to trade your Jordans for your stilettos and make your way out to the pole.

—-

When Steve walked back to the bar from the kitchen, there you were on stage under the lights in a crop top and short shorts.

Again, you were oblivious to him.

Steve, on the other hand, was undone.

Your skin glowed everywhere,and he noticed that you didn’t seem to have augmented anatomy, not that there was anything wrong with that. He just knew that if he had a handful of that ass, it would be real. He stepped behind the bar to watch you, a convenient barrier between you and Steve’s stiffening cock.

As he watched, you moved slowly, the motion elegant and mesmerizing in the six-inch heels you were wearing which elongated your beautiful legs.

Lost in your own world under the lights, you looked ethereal, a goddess.

You approached the pole and held on with one hand, walking around and around it seductively, hopping a few times in the heels, making your ass shake with the impact. It was hypnotizing, watching your strong arms and legs, especially those legs, grip the pole as you worked your body around it.

Then, you let your hands slide down the pole, causing you to bend over and showcase your luscious ass and thighs. Steve imagined that they tasted delicious.

Next, you straightened up and walked around until the pole was nestled in between your asscheeks, widened your legs and undulated on it. Never in Steve’s life had he wanted to be an inanimate object until now.

When you turned around and body rolled on the pole was when Steve had to grip the bar. And when you slowly twirled down to the floor and went spread eagle, beautiful legs in the air, was when he felt like vaulting over the marble bar to get to you.

You rolled over onto your knees and started undulating, then started crawling toward the end of the stage closest to him.

Steve knew the exact moment you noticed him.

You froze, looking like a startled feline. Squinting, you moved your hand over your eyes so you could see beyond the lights, then pulled out your earbuds and got to your feet effortlessly.

—--

You thought you were alone with your music and your fantasy of dance that got you in the headspace to strip for strangers. You didn’t notice anyone out in the club until you were almost done with your warm up routine, when, as you looked up from the floor you saw a large figure behind the bar.

You froze, a moment of something like fear, but more like a thrill, passing through you.

As your eyes adjusted to the area beyond the lights, you saw a tall, muscular body and longish hair. This must be the new bartender. You got up and approached him, trying to analyze your feelings about the situation before you addressed the man.

As you got closer, your temperature seemed to rise. Must’ve been the workout.

His warm denim blue eyes were gorgeous and that dark blond hair and reddish beard were thick and lustrous. Although the beard was a bit wild and wooly, there was no hiding the pink, full lips under that straight, masculine nose.

His body was lithe, but muscular, and you sensed his power. You bet he could pick you up and hold you upside down as that beard scratched the inside of your thighs to lick your…

Wait. Where did that thought come from?

You were objectifying your new co-worker.

That would never, never do. You vowed to be professional.

—-

Steve straightened up as you came near. The look on your face was hard to read. Whatever it was you were feeling, Steve felt like an intruder.

Even though he had the deed to this building in his bag.

“Hi.”

It was all he could think of to say as you stood before him because his mind was empty. With you up close, the only thing he could do was stare. Your scent was like a drug and our eyes were…everything. He gazed into them, a myriad of colors that holding him captive.

Then that mouth started moving.

“Hello. You the new barback?”

“What?”

Steve leaned closer, pretending he couldn’t hear you, just to get closer. It wasn’t entirely game; he was quite distracted by you.

The side of your mouth curled up in a sardonic smile and a sudden, funny feeling spread throughout his stomach. He gave you a side grin in response to your side eye.

“Are… you… new… here?”

“Yes, I am working in the bar. I’m Steve…ns. Grant Stevens.”

You extended your hand to him.

“Nice to meet you Grant. I’m Peach.”

“Peach?”

The word gave Steve visions. He stared at your lips, thought of your ass, imagined your juices dripping down his chin.

“Yes,” You smirked. “Peach.”

Steve was speechless.

“It’s nice to meet you. Since you’re new here and probably haven’t gotten paid yet, I won’t charge you for the private dance.”

Steve’s mind was moving slowly. Like he was drugged.

“That’s a stage name, right?”

Peach. It had to be a stage name. Yet it suited you so perfectly. Suddenly he wanted a taste test.

Steve licked his lips and your eyes followed his movement as you proceeded to not answer him. He unconsciously started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and gave you his full smile.

You grew even warmer, from the friction of course, and blinked at him as if you were facing sunlight as you pulled your hand from his.

“Forgive me. I’m sorry for eavesdropping? Spying? Watching you dance without you knowing? Don’t know what to call it. But beg your pardon.”

—--

“Don’t beg.”

‘Dont beg here,’ is what you wanted to say.

You don’t know why the vision of this man on his knees for you flashed in your mind. Maybe it was his velvet baritone, or maybe it was the feel of his rough hand on yours that got you all bothered, as if his smile hadn’t already made you wet.

He was tall, a good head taller than you, even in your heels, and a looming presence. In a good way. You wanted to be enveloped by him. But you didn’t even know him.

You had to get it together, but the scent of his cologne was making your mouth water to taste him. You were weak for this man.

You hated this feeling, didn’t have time for it, yet you weren’t ready to end the conversation just yet.

“I mean, I felt some kinda way when I first saw you here, but hell, I don’t own this place. And neither do you.”

For some reason, Grant’s face did a thing. A weird frowny sad thing, but you barrelled ahead.

“You’re a worker, just like me, and you were just getting your work station ready, just like me. Solidarity, man.”

“Yeah. Solidarity.”

Grant cleared his throat.

“Great moves up there.”

—---

You grinned, blinding him this time. Steve’s discomfort that his ‘little white lie’ was spreading to you dissipated when you smiled at him.

He just knew that your smile could heal any ailment, if he were allowed regular doses of it for the rest of his life.

“Thanks, friend. They make me a lot of money three nights a week.”

You pushed off the bar and started walking back to the locker room as Steve chuckled at your immediate friend zoning.

“And if you like that, stick around for the show.”

You threw a look over your shoulder that made him want to follow you anywhere.

As he watched you leave again, Steve Rogers knew that he needed a little more time to figure this place out.

—----

Steve was concluding that Regine wasn’t the worst, but nothing extraordinary. The women in makeup and costume looked good and the tips were flowing; he could see how this was a money maker.

He had his suspicions about Sully, but he still had little evidence about the quality of the place. He needed to see all of the dancers.

Steve wanted to see you dance. For research purposes.

He was busy at the bar all night, so much so that Sully had to come by and made four money drops. This place made much more profit than was being reported, that much was clear as Steve’s eyes followed Sully back to his office with the cash.

He was about to follow him when you brushed by him, ensconced all in white.

“Excuse me. Gotta get to the stage, Comrade.”

Your wink distracted him from the fact that you were wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat and boots.

Wait.

Were those spurs?

Mesmerized, Steve leaned on the bar to watch your show.

The stage went dark while the guitars started. There were whistles and stomps from the floor, cries of Yesss! Peach! Go Peach! Ride me Cowgirl, and Pour some liquor on me honey tooooo! reverberated in the room.

These were grown men and women.

And by the time the first line of the song played, “This ain’t Texas…”, the crowd was in a frenzy and in the palm of your hand.

Steve suddenly understood the customer’s enthusiasm.

The way you moved on the stage, your props, the way your body captivated everyone in the place was astounding.

You were brilliant.

You were what made Regine extra ordinary.

—---

You were bone tired by the time 3 am rolled around and the club closed after two full sets. You’d made $700 dollars in tips, not bad for a Tuesday, considering that you didn’t do any private dances. You were yawning as you passed the bar and Steve stopped you to say goodnight.

“Hey Peach. You were fantastic tonight.”

He shook his head.

“It was the first time I’ve seen that prop used on a dance club stage…”

Steve’s eyes glazed over as he replayed the image of you spinning on the pole with the stick of the hobby horse between your legs.

You spared the handsome blond an appreciative glance and a tired laugh.

“Thanks, Grant. I try to be original. Hope you did well tonight.”

“I did pretty good.”

Steve smiled as he would if $500 dollars would excite him.

“Hey, one of the customers at the bar told me to give you this. Said he was shy?”

You looked at him warily as you took the envelope. Inside was $1000.

“Holy Shit!”

You looked up and covered your mouth, your girlish piety endearing to Steve, who chuckled at you.

“There’s a stack in here.”

“Whoa! Cool.”

Steve tried to look as if he didn’t know there were exactly 10 hundred dollar bills that he’d put in there.

“Guy must really like you. Could it be a regular? A special friend? An ex perhaps?”

Steve was not being very subtle, but he didn’t have much time. You were smirking at him in that way again.

“My regulars are regular shmegular degular, and cannot afford to tip me one thousand dollars. Must be a high roller rolling through the A.”

You smiled, but decided you needed to be tough. You straightened and gave the most menacing glare you could manage.

Steve thought you were adorable.

“I don’t know who would have done this. I don’t have any special friends or exes in this city. I’m all work. NO play. In any way. Especially at work.”

You hoped your hard look worked. Grant was certainly watching your mouth as you spoke, so he must have caught what you meant, right? When his eyes flicked up to yours, your knees got weak so you decided you should go.

“‘Night, Grant.”

You turned and walked out of Regine, a certain warmth in your chest. Must the $1700 in your bag. Or the chicken wings. Nothing to do with the beautiful man you knew was watching until you got into your car.

Steve made sure that you drove off safely, and then followed you home as he thought about how efficiently you’d curved him.

Once you went into your apartment, Steve called Bucky and told him that he needed a little more time on this enterprise.

This one was a peach.

-----

Okay. I hope that you liked it! Let me know by reblogging please!

[otomiyaa]

Coming Home

BoKuroTsuki

A/N: This one has been sitting in my drafts for a while. I don't like this fic much but between the options of hitting delete or simply posting, I chose to shrug and yolo-post. You can clearly see I meant it to be a smut fic at first and then got lazy onwards HAHA. Own interpretation do your thing.

Summary: Bokuto comes home and finds a nice surprise to play with.

Warnings: Light bondage, polyship, tickleees, suggestive

Word Count: 1.6K

As quiet as possible.

Bokuto held his breath in excitement when he turned the key and opened the front door. The familiar scent immediately filled his chest with warmth. He was home. He was home early.

Having caught an earlier flight than originally planned after playing several games abroad with the national team, he was more than thrilled to be home again.

He immediately noted the absence of Akaashi's favorite shoes and the sound of Kuroo's muffled talking voice from the study. On the phone as he often was, even on a Friday night. Kuroo Tetsurou, the hardworking business man, who would've thought.

"How about tomorrow?" he heard Kuroo ask. Bokuto couldn't help but feel a little disappointed to hear Kuroo was making work plans on a weekend, but that was alright. He hadn't counted on his early return anyway. Heh. None of them did.

Bokuto sighed and with light steps walked into their shared apartment. He entered the bedroom, put down his luggage and... He blinked.

"HUUUUH?!" he yelled, together with his boyfriend Tsukki! Yelling in surprise, Tsukishima lay on their enormous bed, arms and legs tied with loose bondage. He was only wearing his underwear. Oh.... Oh god.

"Kei! What- what are you doing!" Bokuto shrieked.

Blushing, Tsukishima struggled against the bondage. He could still move slightly but didn't seem able to free himself.

"Y-you're home already? What about Spain?" Tsukishima asked. Bokuto grinned and spread his arms.

"The Spain game was canceled. Long story, but that's for later. Why are you tied up?"

Bokuto sat next to him and gave him a kiss. Tsukishima squirmed nervously.

"That idiot - Tetsu. I... We.." He struggled with his words.

"What about 'kaashi? Where's he?" Bokuto asked excitedly, letting his eyes scan Tsukishima's bound body in the meantime. Man, what a lovely thing to come home to.

"Eghh, Keiji ran into Kenma and Hinata on his way home from work. They kind of kidnapped him, he texted he'll probably be home late."

"And let me guess, having you all to himself, Tetsu was about to play around with you BUT was shitty enough to answer his phone for work? So mean to leave you here all alone~" Bokuto said, and he lightly tickled Tsukishima's side.

"K-kinda! Could you u-untie mehe?" Tsukishima giggled nervously.

"But why? What were you playing? You were just getting started right? I can take Tetsu's place."

"Noho- not youhou," Tsukishima whined. Bokuto gasped.

"Not me? I'm offended. Was Tetsu going to have his way with you? Play with you? Hmm... or tickle you? Like this, maybe?" Bokuto's light tickles were less light when he added his other hand and wiggled his fingers down Tsukishima's torso.

The blond let out the cutest yelp and he arched his back. "Nonono waha-wahahait! Not- not tiihickling!"

"Did you set a safeword? Any other rules? I promise I can play too," Bokuto said excitedly, now playing fully with his lovely ticklish partner. He was happy they were having fun while he was gone, but even happier that he caught them in the act and was right on time to join in.

"Kouhoutaraha- no tihickling hehehe!" Tsukishima repeated through hysterical giggles. No tickling? How could anyone tie Tsukki up without the thought of tickling him?

"What - Kou! You're home!"

Bokuto turned around when he heard Kuroo's excited voice. He had been so caught up in Tsukki's delicious laughter that he didn't even hear him come in.

"Tetsu! I'm home!" They hugged each other dramatically and planted wet kisses on each other's lips and cheeks.

"Wanted to surprise y'all with my early return. But turns out you're the one surprising me. A free Kei to tickle, how's that?" Bokuto said, pointing at Tsukishima who was still smiling and blushing adorably.

"Oh haha! So that's what I was hearing. Sorry Kei, for leaving you like that," Kuroo apologized.

"What were you up to anyway?" Bokuto wondered. Kuroo blushed and scratched his cheek.

"Well, since we were home alone, eh.. Tsukki and I decided to have some fun. I was going to, well, you know." Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows.

Bokuto crossed his arms. "No tickling?" he asked. Sure, bondage was hot, but he couldn't imagine it without the T.

"Well, some tickling of course. But mostly other things. Right, Kei?"

Tsukishima blushed and avoided their eyes without responding. Pfft that was so cute, and hot actually.

"Oh. Well, if you were going to have some bondage-fun, I'd love to join if I'm invited," Bokuto said.

"Of course you're invited Koutarou ー wait don't!" Kuroo warned, but Bokuto jumped with excitement on top of the bed and started to wiggle his fingers up and down Tsukishima's outstretched sides. He loved to see those pretty eyes widen and that sweet red color appear instantly on Tsukki's cheeks before his adorable voice was heard.

"Nooohoho dohohon't!" he whined. Bokuto laughed and playfully danced his fingers all over the sensitive spots.

Kuroo didn't exactly stop him. He stood on the side and chuckled to see him have so much fun.

"You really can only think of tickling, huh?" he commented with an amused grin. Bokuto laughed.

"I can't believe you tied him up and thought of anything but tickling. Our sweet Kei is a big tickle spot and you finally got him tied up like this. How can we not make him laugh forever~?" Bokuto sang while he continued to play with those sensitive ribs.

He felt Tsukishima jump under his touch, his loud laughter filling the room as he struggled.

"Plehhehease wahahah! N-not thehehere!"

The cutest! Kuroo sighed and sat down on the bed and stroked Tsukishima's hair, his thumb tickling his neck and ear slightly.

"If he's doing too much, just tell him our safeword hm? Kei?" he said in a soothing voice. Bokuto had no idea whatever safeword they chose, but it wasn't shared with him yet, not even by Tsukishima who shook his head and laughed hysterically.

When he didn't seem to call out their safeword, Kuroo simply shrugged and joined in; he reached for both Tsukishima's vulnerable armpits and dug in right away, going for one of his worst spots immediately.

"TEHETSU Ahahhaah!" Tsukishima bucked and threw his head back. Bokuto grinned and stopped tickling him for a brief moment, just to admire those two things: Kuroo tickling Tsukishima, and Tsukishima laughing this much.

His half-naked body was struggling and squirming, but he couldn't escape the tickling, especially when Bokuto joined in again. Now suffering from an unplanned tickle torture by the both of them, sweet Tsukki could only laugh and beg, and as long as Kuroo kept going, Bokuto felt encouraged to do the same. Tsukki was still not safewording after all, it seemed.

"What is the safeword, actually?" he wondered when he could actually drag the tickling long enough until he started to worry they were overdoing it. But Kuroo laughed playfully and shrugged.

"Ask Kei, love," he said. He allowed Kei to catch a break from the armpit tickles, but he had switched to scribbling his fingers up and down his long sensitive neck in a way that had him snort and cackle in the cutest way.

"Kei? What's our safeword? You didn't say it yet, did you?" Bokuto whined.

"Shuhuhut uhuhup!

Bokuto raised his eyebrows. Oh. Well then. He responded with a big grin and a big squeeze, right into that lovely spot above Tsukki's hips. Such a simple technique, but high reward.

"AAAhhhahah!" Tsukishima jerked heavily and one of his arms got freed from its shitty bondage because of the sudden movement, but Kuroo simply caught his hand, intertwined their fingers romantically and pushed his hand right back to pin his arm down again.

With his free hand he wiggled his fingers back down from Tsukki's neck all the way towards his armpit for round two of what looked like some dreadful tickling that even made Bokuto shudder.

"You're right, Koutarou. There's nothing like tickling Kei like this while he allows it." Kuroo winked at Bokuto, making him tingle with excitement.

In the end they were just silly guys. Even when their boyfriend was tied up like this and seemingly about to allow anything erotic they would want to do to him, there was just nothing like the playful kind of tickling that made him laugh and squeal until he was exhausted.

By the time Tsukishima was out of breath, and still hadn't safeworded yet, Bokuto did sense that Kuroo started to react when sweet ticklish blondie looked all tempting and sexy like that, breathing heavily with that deep blush on his face and the tears that sparkled in his eyes.

"....My pants are getting a little tight," Kuroo joked, confirming Bokuto's suspicions.

He nodded. "What time is 'kaashi gonna be back? I feel kind of bad to get started without him. He'll be the only one missing out," he said, and he licked his lips.

Kuroo shrugged. "He said 'late' but you know him, it most likely won't be after ten, so..." He checked the time. "Any moment?"

Smirking, Bokuto wiggled his fingers. "Well then, shall we warm up our lovely Kei some more until he's back?" he suggested. "If that's alright with you of course, Tsukki."

Tsukishima glared at him. "Go to hehell," he giggled, but he was also smirking.

"That wasn't the safeword, was it?" Bokuto asked. Kuroo shook his head and chuckled.

"Nope, that definitely wasn't it."

It only took a couple of seconds before Tsukishima's loud hysterical laughter was back, and Bokuto couldn't believe they indulged him like this right after coming back home.

And until Akaashi was back home as well, he was not going to give in to any of those desires he was feeling. After all, they could have way more fun when they were all together, and from the way Tsukishima allowed them to keep going, and the way Kuroo was holding himself back as well, he could see they all agreed with him...

[blondphobic]

in celebration of my 1st anniversary as a lads player, i’m sharing my ranking of the current love interests and some random thoughts on them, not that anybody asked or care about

1st place of course comes Rafayel, I wouldn’t be exaggerating saying he’s everything I like in a otome character, he’s SO charismatic, caring, funny, passionate, a switch (jeez who wrote that?), endearing and more, he caught my eye the moment I started playing the game, I adore his dynamic with mc, I’m very fond of flirty banter and they delivered.

he’s so complex and by coincidence I wrote this quite-long-but-not-as-long-as-the-original-draft post yesterday about how people simplify his character’s internal conflict and that he’s much MUCH more than most fans seems to give him credit, I didn’t even know today was gonna be my 1st anniversary, I found out because they sent me celebrative messages, I wrote that just because I fucking love Rafayel. I love you, Rafayel!

2nd place comes Xavier, I’ve been in a Xav phase recently, I can’t really say why because I actually don’t know, I’m just in a Xavier mood, I like his personality and his interactions with MC, he’s very tender, friendly and sweet, I really like that, the jealousy thing kinda activates my fight or flight but I chose to overlook it since he isn’t my main and another LIs gonna step into the 2nd place next month anyway.

3rd place is Zayne, I almost put him on 2nd because I really really like Zayne but it’s more in a “we’re besties” way, love his personality, he’s very kind and considerate, I unaronically think he’s really funny and he’s such a sweetheart with MC, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ love this guy.

4th place’s Sylus, he was actually 2nd place for some months but somehow ended in 4th here, proving that except for Rafa, my ranking changes constantly, I really appreciate him tho, he’s a very charismatic character. like Zayne he just wouldn’t work for me at long term, he’s too daddy dom archetype for my personal taste, every time he calls MC “kitten” I get the ick.

5th place and surprising no one, comes Caleb for a bunch of reasons (but not the reasons people imagine I would have), not only he just got added to the game and we barely got time to grow attached to him yet but because being honest (and controversial), I find him kinda boring.

I’m not very fond of childhood friends to lovers so this end up influencing my opinion on him, I dislike how this trope relies on fake nostalgia over moments the characters shared together and forget the fact that I, the real person playing the game, wasn’t there and therefore have no emotional connection to this character. He always going “remember when you did that?” “remember how we use to do that?” no, I don’t.

Caleb was on scream for like 5 minutes then fucking exploded now he’s back acting psycho, Infold is giving me zero to none time to build any fondness for him so for me he’s just a rando who’s trying to kidnap me, I get he went through some brainwashing shit but since I don’t know him his betrayal just doesn’t hit like it suppose to hit. I didn’t felt betrayed, I felt disgusted.

also I can’t lie, overprotective men aren’t for me, even before being brainwashed Caleb was already too much for my liking, I already have enough people in my real life who think they know what is best for me more than I do, I don’t need this energy in my silly lil hot men game, if I wake up one day feeling like spending time with a man who’s overprotective to the point of being overbearing I can just hang out with my dad.

that being said I don’t hate him, my heart is forgiven when it come to characters if they’re well-written, Infold made a good job with all of them to this point so there still hope for Caleb, Sylus was lowkey a cunt in the beginning too and everyone seems to have forgotten by now

as a bonus, my expectations to the 6th LI: I want him to be related to Ever but I don’t want him to be a ceo because that would be very boring, there’s nothing sexy about making money by exploiting workers and Sylus kinda already fill the ceo archetype, I would prefer a guy who is/was a scientist working for Ever but he discovered things he didn’t suppose to discover and now wants to leave, something along those lines, we also need a sub character because the girlies who aren’t into the dom daddies are clearly in disadvantage, give us someone even more needy than Rafayel, give us a man who’s so pathetic. He having colored hair would be cool too.

also I want to propose we start referring to the LIs as “the lads” because refereeing to them as “LIs” sounds cold to me and calling them lads is goofy so it’s makes me laugh

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[shrikeseams]

#mostly i just want there to be some sort of folk song warning people away from strange songs from beyond the trees #you follow them and before you know it #you're holding a bloody sword above the slain bodies of your kith and kin #(yes this implies that the deserters participated in the second kinslaying) -@eleneressea

Upon consideration, the likeliest path would be Doriath ➡️ Dorthonion (since arguably arafinwians have closer ties to doriath, this seems like the likeliest choice for restless and/or disillusioned marchwardens) ➡️ scattered during the Bragollach ➡️ sheltering with, and ultimately joining the feanorian east.

But after the third kinslaying, that's not a narrative anyone wants to accept, so it becomes the feanorians seducing loyal iathrim away. Being seduced away by magic runs more along Melian or Luthien or Eol's MO, but wh has that ever stopped a good folk song? (C&C in Nargothrond seems more like appealing to self-interest than actual magical seduction, but your mileage may vary.)

the thought occurs to me that there's a distinct possibility that some Doriath march-wardens deserted, seeing the perils of the outside world and wanting to defend people from them…

and possibly they deserted to the Fëanorians.

[writingjourney]

he's wiggling his finger at all you naughty people :)

[bookwyrminspiration]

I genuinely really enjoyed what was going on with the three of them, however briefly we got it

[humming-fly]

This 4th of July I’m stealing the patriotism euphoria that’s usually associated with assholes idolizing the worst attributes of this country because fuck ‘em I live here too and remembering the things this country actually got Right is an important exercise when trying to rally anyone to want to defend it in November SO putting my money where my mouth is I’ll start easy and say I really like National Parks!! It’s rad how many of them there are and how they’re actual set up to preserve some of the most beautiful wild areas in our country while still letting people visit to enjoy and experience nature!! (Less important but I love how they put national parks on the quarters I think that’s real fun)

Feel free to add on if something speaks to ya!

[j-nor]

Hey. Grisps you.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Aftermath au: Red Letter Day

Barney gets a call that Gordon Freeman had been found after ten years of being missing in action.

Word count: 4382

Notes: Another fic for my au "Aftermath" because I think its neat. I'm not sure what else to put here, enjoy the fic

Barney was beginning to remember how much he hated Winter as he stared through the warehouse window in front of him. Despite it being the beginning of March, spring was yet to come, meaning the snow was still falling with the temperature following suit. Barney had always hated the season, and as much as he tried, he could never come up with a proper reason. Maybe it was the fact it was cold, wet, and dreary, making any trip outside miserable, or perhaps it was the fact he was mainly cooped up inside all day, leaving him to get cabin fever. Or maybe it was a mixture of those two at the same time, along with the loneliness that came from them. No matter the reason, Barney kept quiet about it, realizing he had no ability to change the weather. All he could do was drink his hot coffee and put on a few more layers than usual. 

Barney took a sip from his mug as he looked away from the window, instead focusing his attention back into the room he was in. It was a storage room, full of random junk and scientific doodads Barney had no knowledge of. Boxes and crates were stacked up in piles taller than he was, stacked in such a way that it made Barney nervous even being near them in the case of them toppling over. Due to the lack of a radiator in that room, it was even chillier than the rest of the refurbished warehouse, making Barney glad he was wearing the warmest sweatpants he could find in his closet, along with a worn out grey hoodie, with the logo on the front being so faded that it was hard to make out as Black Mesa’s logo.

As he looked around, he was startled by the sound of a box slamming against the concrete floor, along with a short exclamation. “Oh, blast it!” “You alright, Doc?” Barney asked the other man in the room, watching as he bent over to pick up the fallen crate.

“I’m fine, just…hoping whatever was in here isn’t fragile…” 

Dr. Isaac Kleiner, or “Doc” as Barney referred to him as, was wearing a white lab coat over a robin-egg-blue dress-shirt and black tie, trading warmth for safety at his place of work. His glasses were slipping off his face as he moved boxes and rummaged through everything in the storage room, making it even more of a mess than it was before. 

“Where on earth could she have gone?” Kleiner asked, not necessarily expecting an answer. “There aren’t any vents she could have crawled in, are there?”

“I hope not,” Barney stated. “Last thing I want is that thing to fall on someone.” As Kleiner looked under a table, Barney spoke up again. “You think it ran off or something?”

“Oh no, I don’t believe so,” Kleiner stood up straight, “I’m sure she wouldn’t. After all, she needs to get fed eventually, so I imagine she’ll come out for that.” “If the thing didn’t eat someone's cat or something.”

“Hush!” Kleiner held a finger up to his mouth, causing both he and Barney to become silent as he listened closely. Barney attempted to hear what Kleiner was listening for, but to no avail, hearing nothing but silence. “Fie! I could’ve sworn I heard her moving around…”

Barney let out an exhausted sigh, “Doc, please, there’s plenty of those pests out there–”

“But there’s only ONE Lamar!”

“...Right.”

“Now, are you going to help me look?” Kleiner adjusted his crooked glasses, “Or are you going to simply stand there, doing nothing?”

“Uh…” Barney glanced away, thinking for a moment. “...No thanks.”

“Oh, you act like she’s some kind of wild animal.”

“It kinda is.”

“She’s been de-beaked and trained, and you know this!” Kleiner stated as he walked towards a filing cabinet near the corner of the room.

“‘Trained;’ I don’t think that thing is really…trained. My dog is trained, and I know you can train cats, but I don’t think you can train a literal parasite–”

“Oh! I think I’ve got something!” Kleiner said excitedly, “Help me move this cabinet, would you please?”

Barney reluctantly approached the metal cabinet as Kleiner positioned himself to the side of it, ready to move it as soon as Barney was. As soon as Barney placed his free hand against the side of it, he pushed, with Kleiner on the other side pulling it towards him.

Barney let out a loud yelp when something leaped at him from behind the cabinet, causing him to fall on his back and drop his mug on the floor. It was Lamar, the “Pet” headcrab that Kleiner had lost, and it was even uglier up close. As it laid on Barney’s chest, its six small, beady eyes stared back at him as he remained absolutely still, afraid of it trying to attack him. Its teeth on its stomach prodded at his stomach, along with its chipped, large front claws, which had colorful duct-tape covering the tips of them to prevent them from being too sharp. After a few moments of tense silence, Kleiner came to the rescue, picking up Lamar from where it rested on Barney’s torso, allowing him to take a breath.

“LAMAR!” Kleiner exclaimed, looking at his pet with relief in his eyes, “Oh, delightful! I’m so happy to see you weren’t left out in the cold somewhere…”

“Mm-hm…” Barney lifted himself off the ground, looking at his feet to see his knocked over coffee cup, with its contents spilled over. “Ugh…” 

Barney picked up his cup from the floor as Kleiner let Lamar go, watching as it waddled across the floor before jumping up onto one of the tables. Barney stared at it with contempt, the opposite reaction to Lamar’s rediscovery compared to Kleiner’s joy. 

“Do you even have a license for that thing?” Barney questioned as Lamar sat down on top of some loose documents. “If you don’t and animal control finds it, they’ll kill it–”

“I’m…in the process of getting one,” Kleiner stated, voice stumbling slightly. “And I hope no one finds her, cause if they do…I’m afraid of what you said coming true. I’m sure it will be fine regardless, at least she knows to stay inside.”

“...Sure.”

“Is everyone safe?”

Barney and Kleiner turned towards the doorway that led to the rest of the warehouse, seeing a lone, albino Vortigaunt staring back at them with her four maroon eyes. She was wearing a similar lab coat to Kleiner’s, with a borrowed pair of black dress pants, along with a fitted light brown sweater, with a hole in the middle of her chest for her third pseudo arm. She stared at Kleiner and Barney for a little while before Barney answered her question. 

“Yeah, we’re fine…” Barney sighed, glancing towards Lamar, “We just found Kleiner’s…pet.”

“Everything’s under control, Violet, you can get back to work!” Kleiner added.

“I see.” Violet’s gravelly voice seemed quieter than usual, making Barney’s brows furrow a bit.

“You alright?” He asked.

Violet seemed puzzled. “Hm?”

“Are you doing alright? I have noticed you’ve been a bit…closed off for the past few hours.” Kleiner inquired.

“We have been…distracted…” Violet responded. “I imagine it will be cleared up soon.”

“We?” Barney asked.

Violet didn’t answer. “I must get back to helping the others…the teleporter is nearly ready for its first test...”

“Oh! Wonderful. I’ll be there in a little bit.” Kleiner stated as Violet left the room. Barney remained puzzled, looking back at Kleiner with a feeling of unease in his chest.

“She said ‘we’.” Barney stated.

“I’m aware,” Kleiner responded. “You see, the Vortigaunts are able to tap into something they refer to as the ‘Vortessence’, and are thus all conne–”

“I know, Doc, I just…” Barney paused for a second. “If she’s talking about all the Vortigaunts, then wouldn’t that be a bit worrying?”

“...Maybe, but I'm not sure.” Kleiner stated. “Though, one of the members of the survey team we sent earlier today was a Vortigaunt, and that team hasn’t returned yet so…maybe there is a connection there.”

“Maybe.”

“Either way, I believe i’ll go and speak with her, just to make sure everything’s alri–”

Barney’s phone ringing from his pocket interrupted their thoughts, and when Barney pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open, he saw the number was from one of his coworkers at the hospital. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“You’re fine, you go ahead and I’ll go check in with the others.”

Barney nodded, watching Kleiner leave the room before he answered the call and put his phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

Barney listened closely to the person on the other end of the phone, barely processing what they were saying. 

“What’s going on? 

Not going to believe what? 

So what, why are you telling me this?”

Barney listened closely, all before he felt his heart skip a beat. The sinking feeling in his chest was enough to render him silent, all before he let out a meek “I’ll call you later.”

Barney rushed out of the room, running past Kleiner in the process, nearly pushing him over as he approached the exit. “Barney? What’s going on, are you alright–” “They found him.” Barney’s voice shook as he spoke, with him barely being able to make out the words from how tight his throat was.

“Found who?”

Barney was already out of the building by the time Kleiner asked the question, leaving it unanswered.

Barney saw his own breath clouding in front of his face as he sprinted across the parking lot of the warehouse, nearly slipping on ice multiple times but not giving any time to care. When he reached his car, he swung the door open and crawled inside, starting the engine and speeding off without a single word. His thoughts ran through his head faster than his car was capable of going, slurring together without a single cohesive thought coming through. He didn’t care if he was a few miles above the speed limit; he needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. He needed to see if what his coworker said was right.

If it was truly Gordon Freeman that was brought into the ER, he needed to be there.

When Barney made it to the hospital lot, he rushed through the front doors, looking around before approaching the front desk, out of breath from both the physical and mental strain that was put on him. Through harsh breaths, he asked, “Is Gordon Freeman here?”, with pleading eyes focused on the woman behind the desk.

“Oh, hello Mr. Calhoun, I can look through the system for a ‘Gordon Freeman’, if you’ll sit tight for a moment.” She looked towards the computer in front of her, typing in something and looking through files as Barney waited, his impatience building up inside of him.

“Fuck this.” He pushed himself away from the desk, storming down one of the hallways despite the woman at the front desk telling him he wasn’t allowed to as he was off duty. Barney rushed past hospital workers, asking them if they knew where Gordon was, only to be met with worried and frightened looks along with no answers. Barney’s frustration only grew as he ran through the hospital halls, with the familiar building beginning to feel like a maze meant to confuse him. As he ran further into the hospital wing, he slammed against one of the doctors in the hall, causing him to topple to the ground as Barney tripped over his own feet.

“Sorry, I just have to–”

“Barney? What the hell are you doing back here?” The man questioned as Barney sped past him.

“I’m looking for Gordon Freeman,” Barney answered, turning around. “Have you seen him?”

“He’s in the ER right now,” The man snapped back as he slowly stood up. “You can’t see him until he’s out of surgery.”

“Surgery? Is he safe? Is he alright?” Barney questioned, walking closer to the doctor. 

“Yes, he’ll be fine, just…” The doctor let out a tired sigh. “Get out of here, you’re off duty and risking your job with a stunt like this.”

“I need to see Gordon, alright?” Barney explained. “He’s been gone for a fucking DECADE, and he’s been found again, I can’t just leave him–”

“Calhoun.” The man raised his voice as he glared at Barney with a look of both contempt and pity. “...Listen, just wait until he’s out and I’ll see what I can do, do you understand?”

Barney remained silent for a moment, letting out a sharp breath before nodding. “Alright,” He stated, defeated. “But he better be getting the best treatment in there.”

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can, they understand his reputation–”

“I don’t care about his reputation, if i’m right, that’s my goddamn friend in there.” Barney spat. “...Let me know when he’s out. I need to at least…make sure it’s…the right guy.”

“I’m sure someone will let you know.” The doctor stated. “...Now please go back to the waiting room before I call security.”

Barney did as he was told, reluctantly walking across the hospital premises and back into the waiting room, where he will stay for another few hours. He paced around the room, bounced his foot up and down, fidgeted with his hands; anything to try and pass the time as the minutes passed by agonizingly slow. After he had already been there for what felt like days within the timespan of a few hours, he saw a nurse walk towards him. “Mr. Calhoun?”

Barney’s head lifted up, looking towards the nurse before following her down a hallway. After a couple-minutes walk, they stopped in front of a door leading to a recovery room. “He’s in there,” The nurse stated. “He’s currently sleeping, so I ask you to be quiet and not attempt to wake him up.”

“...Yeah.” Barney hesitated before walking through the door, stepping into the room, seeing a curtain blocking his view of the bed. He paused, standing in place for a moment as he wondered if the face he was about to see was truly Gordon, or simply someone mistaken as him. He wondered if he wanted the answer, or if he’d rather live in ignorance, avoiding the crippling disappointment if it wasn’t the man he thought it was, but as he walked past the curtain, every worry in his mind ceased and his thoughts became silent as he looked at the man on the bed.

Sure, his body was covered with blood-soaked bandages, his right leg was in a cast, he had medical equipment around him, and he was missing his glasses, but his face was painfully recognizable. Barney choked back a sob, covering his mouth when he saw Gordon’s face again.

“Are you alright?” The nurse behind him asked, noticing Barney’s teary-eyed look.

“I’m fine.” Barney whispered before letting out a short chuckle and a forced smile. “It’s just…he didn’t change a damn bit.”

Barney hadn’t even noticed it had been an hour since he entered the room, being surprised when he glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing 10 PM. He sat on a chair beside Gordon’s bed, having moved it from the corner of the room to right beside it. His leg bounced up and down as he looked at Gordon, all before lowering his head and letting out a deep sigh. He wished to speak to him but he was out of words he could possibly say at that very moment, not to mention the wish to stay quiet so Gordon could recover without being woken up. He wanted to tell Gordon everything that had happened in his absence; how Kleiner started up another lab to continue Black Mesa’s studies, how Eli also set up one on the other side of the city, and how Barney had finished college and was able to become a nurse. Gordon missed so much, and even though Barney wished to dump every piece of information onto him, he realized that even the realization that it had been ten years would be overwhelming enough. Thus, Barney figured to start simple, and just talk, like friends, for the first time since the Black Mesa incident.

As Barney leaned back into his seat he felt the back of his head hit something that wasn’t there before, feeling bitter cold yet organic at the same time, like a corpse’s fingers curling around the top of the backrest. He swung around, half expecting someone to be there, yet he saw nothing of the sort, seeing only the beige wall behind him. Barney let out his breath, looking back at Gordon before realizing he should head back; his stress and emotional state must have made him paranoid, not to mention the feeling of his hair standing on end. He stood up, walking towards the door out of the room before taking one last look back at Gordon before he finally left.

Later that night, Barney paced around his living room, being watched by his pet rottweiler as he talked on the phone. “The Survey team were the ones that found him?” he asked.

“That’s what they said,” Kleiner stated from the other side of the line. “The Vortigaunt was apparently the one that found him, specifically.”

“I see.”

“Quite Miraculous,” Kleiner continued, “The fact that Gordon had survived there for ten years before being found.”

“Yeah…” Barney unsurely stated under his breath.

“Nevermind that, what are you planning now?” Kleiner asked. “Should we have some kind of party? A celebration should be in order for him being back, I’d say–”

“I think he needs rest, he’s…been through a lot.” Barney stated. “I’ve thought of him staying over at my place until he can find a place of his own or until he recovers, but we’ll see how he’s feeling.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure we can find a spare room in the lab for him.”

“I dunno if he’d wanna live in a loud lab with a headcrab, doc.”

“...I suppose you have a fair point.”

“It was just so…strange.” Barney stated. “They say it was a ten year coma, but I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it at all.” “What makes you believe that?” 

“The fact he was bleeding. The fact he had fresh wounds from Black Mesa,” Barney elaborated, brows furrowed and his free arm crossing over his chest. “Not to mention the fact he was found with that…suit on.” “What kind of suit?” Kleiner questioned. “Oh, do you mean the Hazardous Environment Suit?”

“Yeah. Why would he be wearing it ten years after the incident was already over?”

“Who knows,” Kleiner sighed, “I’m sure I can talk with Eli to see if he has any ideas on–” Kleiner was interrupted by a loud crash and squeaking coming from behind him, audible through Barney’s phone. “Goodness gracious, LAMAR, NO–”

“You alright Doc?” 

“I’ll have to speak with you later, Lamar got in the vents again–Lamar get DOWN from there, that’s not safe!” After that, the call ended, and Barney was left to himself once again. Barney sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket before he heard a deep ruff coming from his dog, who was laying next to the couch in the living room, with its white patches of fur on its snout showing its age.

“You hear that, Gordon?” Barney said. “You might get a new roommate…a…different Gordon.”

The dog yawned and rested his head on his paws as Barney walked towards the living room couch, sitting on it and resting his feet on the coffee table in front of it. He leaned over the armrest, scratching the top of the dog’s head. “Guess I’ll have to explain to him why you’re also named Gordon, huh bud?”

Gordon didn’t respond, instead just letting out a soft ruff again. Barney leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling before folding his hands on top of his stomach. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining why his pet was named after his friend, he realized. After all, it’s not very easy to tell someone you thought they were dead for years.

As soon as Barney received the call that Gordon was awake the following evening, Barney rushed back to the hospital to visit him once again. As he drove across the city, worries he didn’t think about before began to creep up inside his brain. Even though he didn’t necessarily believe the coma theory the doctors had, nor did he believe even they believed it fully, he thought of the possibility of it being true, and if Gordon would even remember who Barney was after a full decade of sleep. It would be a surprise if Gordon remembered anything after that amount of time, but Barney pushed down his pessimism, trying to be optimistic just this once.

After making his way down the hospital hallway once again, he found himself back in front of the door to Gordon’s room, with a nervous feeling deep in his gut as he prepared to walk inside. He took in a breath and stepped inside, looking towards the bed in which Gordon was laying on, only to have his gaze met by two bright green eyes, ones Barney hadn't seen since ten years prior. Barney froze in place, staring back at Gordon, who appeared to be surprised to see him. As Barney sat down in the chair beside the bed, he swallowed hard, wondering what he could possibly say now that Gordon was awake. As he thought to himself, a question left his mouth that he wasn’t initially planning on asking:

“Where were you?”

The question lingered in the air like a foul odor, with Gordon’s brows furrowing lip quivering slightly, all while he curled his hands into fists. He turned away from Barney, looking down at his feet, thinking of something to say, though his hands didn’t once lift up to sign a single word.

“You…disappear for 10 years without warning,” Barney continued. “Leaving everyone to believe you were dead.”

Gordon didn’t make eye contact with Barney as he spoke.

“I thought you were dead and buried somewhere, Gordon,” Barney choked. “But…You’re here in front of me now.”

Gordon glanced at Barney before he felt arms being wrapped around his shoulders, tight, but not too tight to make it hurt.

“I fucking missed you, Gordon.” Barney said as he hugged Gordon, feeling the gesture being returned to him. Gordon’s hands shook, feeling weak and cold, yet he didn’t want to let go of the single shred of kindness he had felt since what felt like eternity. After a few moments Barney let go, sitting back down with red, tear-filled eyes. 

“...You…missed a lot.” Barney stated; Gordon nodded knowingly in response. “I’d tell ya’ everything, but…I don’t even know how to start.”

“Are they safe?” Gordon’s hands were shaking, but Barney could make out the message regardless.

“Who, like…Kleiner? Eli?”

Gordon nodded slightly, lips pursed in anticipation. 

“They’re alright,” Barney assured, allowing Gordon to let out a breath. “In fact…they’re excited to see you again. Kleiner especially, he’s hoping to get you back into his lab…don’t know if you want to do that, but the offer’s there.”

Gordon appeared to have had a weight lifted off his shoulders at the news, but the cold yet somber gaze didn’t leave his eyes. Barney planned to tell Gordon that they were among the few survivors of the Black Mesa incident, but he bit his tongue for the time being.

“...Never thought you’d be in the history books, did ya?” Barney let out a lighthearted chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re a hero in everyone’s eyes, now.”

Gordon shook his head, looking down and away from Barney’s gaze as he clasped his hands together on his lap. Barney stared at him with a look of confusion and worry, all before forcefully clearing his throat. 

“I’m just…happy to see you alive, Gordon.” Barney stated. “After…a few years I began to…to lose hope.” Barney paused for a second, realizing Gordon was still not meeting his gaze. “...Should’ve known you were a tougher son of a bitch than that, I guess.”

Gordon scoffed slightly before shaking his head again, still staring at his feet. Silence fell as Barney attempted to think of something else to say to ease the tense atmosphere, though his thoughts were blank and void of any ideas. Barney looked towards Gordon yet again, seeing he was raising his hands up to sign something:

“Missed you too.”

Barney smiled slightly, despite feeling as if he wanted to cry right then and there. He never anticipated he’d be this emotional in his life, yet here he was; about to cry for the second time that day. Seeing his legally dead friend after ten years of being missing in action was enough to warrant it, he supposed.

“I’m sure the others will be happy to show you everything they’ve been working on,” Barney said, with Gordon finally looking back up at him, before looking directly behind him, “They’ve been working on a new telepor–”

Gordon flinched, staring at something behind Barney before attempting to crawl backwards, nearly ripping off his IV in the process. Barney looked behind him, seeing nothing but the wall before he heard a loud thud coming from the bed. He turned, seeing Gordon had fallen off of the bed and onto the cold linoleum floor. “Gordon!” Barney quickly ran to his aid, holding out an arm for Gordon to grab, lifting him off of the floor. When weight was put onto his right leg, Gordon grimaced, using Barney as leverage as he was put back onto the bed. “Jeez Gordon, what got you freaked out so ba–”

Barney was silenced when Gordon hugged him without warning. Barney could hear him quietly sobbing into his shoulder, and as he returned the hug, he wondered if he had ever seen Gordon so touchy before; It was as if he hadn’t had human contact in days. This time however, Barney wasn’t quick to let go. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his best friend behind again.

Not this time.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

If i think of horrendous inappropriate things about magneto tonight no i didnt

[mysticalcats]

ok fellas this post is really different from my other stuff so i'm putting it under the cut for people who don't care and also because i'm slightly embarrassed

ok so. is it unusual for a girl to want to have a deep voice and a flat chest and a more square face and also feel slightly jealous of men and want to sound like them and look like them

and also is it unusual to want to be all that, but also simultaneously not be very bothered very much by how you look right now or by being referred to with she/her except for sometimes when you think about it too much. because i usually don't think about it except for sometimes where i suddenly just get really sad about being a girl or i'll always have this faint feeling that i am just unhappy about it

and also is it unusual to try to ignore it and go about your life being unbothered by it even though deep down it does kinda bother you but you can't really. like. say anything to anyone because your family won't react well and neither will your friends because they'll think it's weird and uncomfortable. i feel afraid to ever feel this way because i know the people in my life won't react well to it

so like. genuine question please lmk wtf is goin on because i'm unsure if it's normal and i've felt like this for a long time and it's confusing me and i don't even know what i'm going to do with the information once i know i'm just sort of lost LMAO

[veveisveryuncool]

rock kandi nation im cooking

[northern-passage]

i've been thinking a lot about the word "representation" and what it means and how it's changed over the last few years, particularly when it comes to the writing/publishing landscape but also in movies and tv shows… and i really don't like it anymore. to be clear, of course i think it's important to have diversity in your work, i'm not saying i hate the concept of representation. but i do really dislike the way it's used now, and i really just hate the word itself

in a broader sense it's just become a marketing tool. i'm not impressed by any publisher or author who just describes their book by listing all of the minorities/identities the characters represent as if that should be enough. it feels very gross, very exploitative and disingenuous. it also really bothers me because it's always marginalized identities- which i understand Why, but it feels very othering to me (and again. Very exploitative as an advertisement). you would never list out "cishet able-bodied white man" as a character description to pat yourself on the back over. so why do it to everyone else? why insinuate that one is the "default" and the other one is "special"? (and when i say this i'm mainly talking about advertisements/marketing. i understand why people would specify about characters in descriptions with the plot, but i don't like to see an ad that's just "this book has gay people!" with nothing else)

which then leads me to my other point, which is that a lot of people treat "representation" as if it's "too hard." like "oh i don't know enough to write about that, i don't have that experience, etc" which is a fair way to feel! however… it's weird that people only say this about writing trans characters or characters of color. i'm writing a story right now with a character who is really into motorcycles. i personally do not know that much about motorcycles, so i researched what parts are what & what different kinds of models there are & what basic bike care looks like. i guarantee Most people will have to google something at some point in their writing process. so what's the problem? it also, again, feels very othering when authors treat certain groups of people as "impossible" to write, "too hard" to understand. they are just.. people. you write them as a person. and then you figure out the rest later.

and i think part of the refusal or fear to write something outside of your experience is because of the way representation is treated as So Special. these characters are So Special that they aren't allowed to be anything other than "representation." they're Not allowed to be characters with complex emotions and interesting motivations, they have to just be Trans or Gay or Disabled or whatever. they're not allowed to be people. which means, at the end of the day, we loop right back around to where we were at the start….

there is bad representation. there are depictions of certain marginalized people that are harmful and that are damaging, i'm not trying to minimize that or argue against it at all, in fact we should all be mindful of that while writing and reading. but i also think it's possible to swing too far in the opposite direction as well and put certain groups of people on a pedestal and not allow them to do anything at all but be Perfect Representation, if that makes sense.

[littletealights]

WHY IS HE IN MY EAR?? GET HIM THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME

[macchiatosdumptruck]

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