#and of course i've been dragged to all the new movies and i watched the first of the og trilogy

[krirebr]

More Than This 8

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~9.5k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, fighting, my own rampant abuse of italics and en dashes, the slooowest burn, family drama - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Ohhhhhhhh boy. Getting this update in right under the six month wire. I'm so sorry this one took so long, you guys. I had to drag this chapter out of me. But uh, it's horrifically long, so that's something?

And, I know I keep saying that we're about to start a happier part of this story and then deliver a bucketful of angst, and yeah, whoops, I've done that again. I should just stop making promises, huh?

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who has spent the last almost six months talking this one through with me. And to @bigtreefest who was so great with the encouragement and gut checks and did a quick beta of this chapter! But, of course, all mistakes are my own.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too! As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The rest of the day was quiet. Calmer, more settled than you were used to. After having gotten everything out into the open, it was so much easier to acknowledge Ransom’s presence, to coexist with him. You hadn’t fully realized how much you’d been holding your breath until you could suddenly breathe freely. It was a wild feeling.

Once you were all cried out, Ransom turned on the TV, turning it to the classic movie channel. That was how you learned he loved old movies. “Grandad and I used to watch them together. When I was a kid,” he said quietly. He didn't volunteer any other information and you didn't ask. But you watched the old noir with him.

One movie turned into two and soon the whole afternoon was gone. It had been… comfortable, in a way you’d never expected to be with him. Neither of you had said much, but the silence hadn’t been stifling in the way it’d been even just the day before. For the first time since you’d gotten here, you felt something a lot like hope.

He made two arrangements while sitting with you on the couch. The first was for movers to come to collect his gym equipment the next day so that your new room would be empty when your things arrived in a couple of days. 

You were made aware of the second when you received a text from him. You looked up in confusion. You were sitting right next to each other. He chuckled lightly. “That’s the number to your new car service. Call it, let them know where you’re going, and a car should be here within half an hour.”

You stared at the number. Holy shit, you’d be able to go places. You felt silly for how emotional you suddenly felt, but it was like your entire world was expanding in real time. It felt like fresh oxygen in your lungs. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

He just nodded in response. “After you’ve used that for a while, we can talk about whether a private driver might be more appropriate. If that’s what you need.”

You looked at your phone again. This was proof in your hands that you could tell Ransom what you needed and he would do what he could to help you get it. That he wasn’t the enemy you’d assumed he was. You could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes and you took a deep breath to try to quell them without calling attention to your state.

Ransom, of course, noticed anyway. “Is that not ok?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head. “No, it’s perfect. Seriously, thank you. I’m sorry, I just–” You had no idea what to say to him, how to explain yourself. As good and necessary as the last several hours had been, he was still a stranger. And as much as he’d demonstrated a willingness to help you, that didn’t mean he wanted you getting your messy emotions all over him. “Sorry,” you said again, “I’m just emotional today. Hormones probably. I’m afraid you’re going to be dealing with this for the next nine months.” You grimaced in what you hoped was a playful manner as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes.

He remained serious, concerned. “I think I can handle it,” he said, his tone still so soft. But if you looked very carefully, you thought that you might be able to see a hint of panic in his eyes. You didn’t know if it was for the havoc that your pregnancy hormones might wreak or everything that would come after. You didn’t ask. You knew you wouldn’t be able to answer the question for yourself either. So you turned back to the movie.  

At some point, you both started to get hungry, so Ransom ordered takeout. As you ate, you asked a few questions about the sorts of movies he liked, grateful for a safe topic to fill the silence. You certainly wouldn’t call him verbose, but you learned that he had a soft spot for Billy Wilder movies. You wouldn’t really say the conversation flowed, either, but your questions didn’t seem unwelcome. It was nice. He was starting to feel like a real person.

When you were done, you cleaned up the leftovers together, packing them up and putting them away in the fridge. It was while you were doing that that the doorbell suddenly rang. You both looked up, confused. “If that’s fucking Linda, I swear…” Ransom grumbled.

“She never rings the doorbell when it’s just me here,” you griped. You continued putting things away, sticking your head in the fridge as Ransom went to get the door. Then everything happened so fast.

First, you heard Lola yipping excitedly. As you started to turn around to see what was going on with her, Ransom asked “What are you doing here?!” And then–

And then Ransom was on the ground, clutching his jaw, and Steve was looming over him, his hand still in a fist.

“What the shit?!” Ransom ground out.

Steve’s eyes flitted around wildly until they landed on you. He sighed in relief, clearly doing a quick check as he looked at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone so much gentler than his posture.

“Am I– What– What are you doing here? I don't–” You felt like you couldn’t process anything that was happening. How was he here?? Your gaze caught on your husband, still on the floor. “Oh my god, Ransom!” You dropped to your knees next to him. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I–” he started, then carefully flexed his jaw, “Fucking shit. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Your hand hovered uselessly between you as he slowly stood up. You turned back to Steve, who had stepped fully into the house, closing the door behind him, and now had Lola in his arms, softly greeting her as she snuggled into him adoringly.

“Steve, what are you–” you started but then you saw the suitcase at his feet. “Are you staying here?!”

Steve finally turned his attention away from Lola. “Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously, with a challenging glare to Ransom. 

You sighed helplessly. “There’s no guest room…”

“Yeah,” Ransom grumbled as he rifled through the freezer until he pulled out an icepack, “as thrilled as we are to see you, we do have hotels here. You might be more comfortable in one.” The icy coldness that filled the room wasn’t just from the open freezer. 

Steve took an aggressive step forward. “And leave you alone with my sister for even one more day? I don’t think so. I’ll be just fine on the couch. I’m easy like that.”

“Steve–” you tried but you were quickly interrupted.

“Really? You’re here for your step-sister? That’s interesting because my understanding is that you haven’t had much time for her lately,” Ransom said snidely.

Steve started to puff up in a way that was much too familiar from the playground fights of your childhood. “Oh my god!” you yelled. “Stop! Both of you!” You briefly put your head in your hands and took a deep breath, then one more. You straightened yourself and tried to deal with one of the fifteen problems at hand. “Ok, I, uh, I guess I’ll see about making up the couch,” you said, then stomped your way upstairs to the linen closet.

Steve followed close behind you, still carrying around Lola. “You know,” he said, his tone teasing, “you haven’t actually said ‘hello’ to me yet.”

“No,” you growled, as you looked through the closet without turning around to look at him, “I guess I haven’t.”

He pulled your arm lightly. “Hey, come on,” he said. “I’ll help pull this stuff together if you tell me where to look. We both know Ransom’s just gonna let you do all the work.”

That earned you finally turning to face him. “Well, he did just get punched in the face, so I think he’s a little more concerned with that than making you feel comfortable right now.”

Steve’s face scrunched up. “Wait. Are you mad at me?”

“Am I mad at you? Well, let's see. You showed up unannounced and punched my husband in the face. Yeah! I'm a little mad at you!”

“He deserved it,” he growled. 

“How would you know?!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

You sighed. You did not have the energy for this. And where were all the blankets? You remembered the pile currently in the corner of the gym. Right. You turned around and walked down the hall to your makeshift bedroom, Steve still on your heels. As soon as you walked in, he stopped, putting Lola down. “The fuck is this?” he asked, harshly, his hands on his hips. You realized your mistake immediately. His eyes scanned the cushions and blankets set up, the exercise equipment still there, your few possessions strewn about. “Is this where you sleep?”

“No! Just last night.”

“Why did you need to sleep here last night?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

It felt like a trap. If you told him you’d panicked and needed some space, he would ask why. Steve never dropped anything. And you just could not tell him you were pregnant right now. It was the absolute worst time for that. But you didn’t know how else to answer his question. “I just needed a little space.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. God, you hated being the focus of that look. It was the look he gave you when you scratched his car when you were 16, or when you were 18 and he had to pick you up from a party at 2 AM and wouldn’t tell him what had happened. It was the look you got when you were little and used to steal his paintbrushes so he couldn’t paint and he’d have to hang out with you. You’d hated that look since you were six years old. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He just shook his head for a moment. “You sounded so sad and tired this morning. And I’m just so sick of not being able to see you, not being able to tell what’s wrong.” He took a deep breath. “Not being able to protect you.”

“Steve,” was all you could say at first. Then you couldn’t help yourself anymore. You launched yourself at him and wrapped him in a big hug. He was a fucking idiot. You couldn’t believe he’d punched Ransom. You were so mad about that. But he was your fucking brother and you’d missed him so much.

He hugged you back tightly. “It’s so fucking good to see you, Chipmunk,” he murmured into your hair. 

You stood there, savoring the closeness for as long as you both were able, and then you pulled away and stared down at the mound of blankets and cushions. The big couch downstairs had been pulled apart the night before to give you a place to sleep. That severely limited the options for Steve. You sighed. “I guess it would make the most sense to put you in here.”

“And where would you sleep?” he asked, his tone taking on an aggressive edge, aimed at the man downstairs, you knew.

“I’d go back to the bedroom,” you said, with a put-on casualness like you weren’t aware of the fight that was about to happen.

“Absolutely not,” Steve said firmly.

“Oh my god, Steve! You can’t control where I sleep!” you said, throwing your hands in the air.

“The whole reason I’m here is to make sure you’re ok and that he can’t hurt you! I’m not gonna do something that puts you back in his space!”

“Steve, I don’t need that! He isn’t doing anything!”

“Then why did you text me? Why were you crying?!”

You did not have the energy for the conversation that would answer that question, so all you could do was glare at him, which he answered with a confrontational jut of his chin. The two of you just stood there locked in a staredown until Steve muttered, “What sort of grown man doesn’t have anywhere for guests, anyway?”

“The sort that likes an excuse to stop people from staying at his house,” Ransom said pointedly from the doorway, startling you both. “What exactly do you think I’d do, with you right across the hall? I’ve already gotten a taste of how you solve problems,” he said to Steve, gesturing with the ice pack still held to his face. Then, much softer, to you, he said, “I know you want your own space, but you’re more than welcome to share the bed until your stuff gets here. That’s all I wanted to say.” Then he turned around and walked into his bedroom, Lola scampering behind him, ready for bed.

You stared after him, unable to parse the feelings bubbling up inside you. He’d been so different lately. Or maybe you were just finally looking.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Steve asking “Your stuff?”

You turned your attention back to him. He was watching you too carefully. “Mhmm,” you hummed, trying to feign nonchalance. “I’m having my bedroom furniture shipped here. I’m turning this into my room.” He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to ask too many questions probably so you cut him off. “It’s been a really long couple of days, Steve. I’m tired. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

He set his jaw. You could tell he wanted to fight you. Force you to talk to him. But you held your ground, looked him in the eye with a hint of challenge, and eventually he deflated, just a bit. “Yeah, okay,” he relented before he pulled you into another crushing hug. You’d really missed his hugs.

“I am happy to see you,” you whispered.

“Me too, Chip,” he whispered right back. 

After making sure he had everything he needed, you left Steve alone with a quiet “goodnight,” and made your way back to Ransom’s bedroom. He and Lola were already snuggled in bed, snoring softly. You quickly went through your bedtime routine and then joined them, very careful not to wake either of them. After how eventful and emotionally wrought the last few days had been, it didn’t take you long at all to drift off into sleep.

You woke up in the morning pressed up against Ransom, face to face, your feet tangled together, Lola on your legs. You carefully pushed yourself away, watching him warily to see if he roused at all. Thankfully he didn't. You were sure he wouldn't be thrilled with how close you'd both gotten in the night. 

You quietly got up and let yourself out of the bedroom, a now wide-awake Lola at your heels. The door to the gym was open and the room was empty, Steve’s suitcase wide open on the floor next to the nest of cushions and blankets. You didn’t hear anyone moving around downstairs, so he was out on a run, most likely.

You headed down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then started looking through the fridge for the leftovers from the previous morning. As you were doing that, a creak on the stairs let you know Ransom was joining you. 

“Morning,” he said, voice scratchy from disuse. He went to the coffee maker and just stood in front of it, waiting for the pot to finish.

“Morning,” you said from inside the fridge. You found the leftovers and closed the appliance, finally turning to him with a gasp. You put the food down on the counter and went to Ransom. “Oh my god, your face!” A large bruise in a deep shade of purple took up most of the left side of his face, centered on his jaw and cheekbone. You rushed to his side and without thinking, extended a hand to touch him before you realized what you were doing and pulled back at the last minute, embarrassed. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbled, his attention still fixed on the coffee slowly dripping into the carafe. 

You stared at him for another moment, before you just couldn’t keep your feelings inside anymore. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

He finally looked at you at that. “What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked.

So much, you thought to yourself, maybe, probably. But for right now, in this instance, you just shrugged. “He’s my brother,” you said, a little helplessly. 

“Did you tell him to punch me?” he asked as he decided he’d waited long enough and filled his mug.

“What? No!”

“Then there’s nothing to apologize for.” He leaned back against the counter as he sipped his coffee. “Where is your brother?”

“On a run, probably,” you said, now helping yourself to a mug and fixing it up how you liked.

Ransom scoffed. “Of course, he is.” He looked at you carefully for a long moment and you struggled not to squirm under his gaze. “You happy he’s here?”

“Of course!” you said, too quickly. He kept looking at you. “I mean, I didn’t invite him here, so… It was just a surprise. I don’t know. He’s very protective, you know?” Ransom raised an eyebrow and you couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle. “Right, yeah. He just– Sometimes, he just– he decides what’s right. And then there’s no changing his mind.”

He made a little hum, then nodded and said, “Yeah, I know. I have met him before. But why are you worried about that?”

“Uh, he just, he isn’t always a good listener. And he’s gonna have a lot of questions for me today. I know he will. And I don’t know how I’ll answer any of them without telling him about the– that I’m pregnant.”

“And you don’t want to?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly soft.

“No, that’s not exactly– I just–” you sighed. “This isn’t what he ever wanted for me.”

Ransom made a small noise of understanding. “You think he’ll be disappointed in you.”

There was no judgment in his tone, but it still made you shrink in on yourself a little. You nodded.

“Listen, it’s no secret that I think he’s a sanctimonious asshole.” You opened your mouth to start defending Steve, but Ransom shook his head. “Let me finish. It’s clear that he loves you. I think you’ll be ok. And if he does give you shit, well, it’ll be just one of a few things he’s done to earn himself a punch.”

“Oh god, Ransom no, please don’t do that.”

He grinned at you. “Nah, I won’t. Some of us have self-control. I know him being here is important to you. I’ll try not to do anything to mess that up.”

You wondered if the warm feelings spreading through you would always be such a surprise. If he would always be such a surprise.

“But,” he continued before he paused to drain his mug. “I am going to try to get out of here before he gets back.”

“This is your house. You don’t need to do that.”

“It’s fine,” he said quietly, “you should have a nice day with your brother.” Then he put his mug in the dishwasher and went back upstairs to get dressed, with you staring after him.

Ransom left and, sure enough, Steve got back a few minutes later. He went straight to the shower and you tried to busy yourself and calm your nerves while you waited for the inevitable conversation.

When he came down, his hair was still wet and he was dressed in jeans and a plain white tee. There was nothing casual about his demeanor though.

“So,” he said, sitting down next to you in the kitchen, “you ready to tell me what’s been going on here?”

You started to get up. “Do you want some breakfast first? We have some pastries left over from yesterday.”

He grabbed your arm and pulled you back down into your chair. “No, I want to know why you've sounded so upset every time I’ve talked to you since the wedding.”

You squirmed under his sharp gaze. You knew him. You knew that he wouldn’t give up until you told him everything. But you also knew how awful his reaction would be and you just weren’t ready to give everything up. “It’s just been a lot of change, you know? Of course, it’s been hard. I’m just… adjusting. It’s been an adjustment period.”

“Adjusting to what, exactly?”

“To marriage! To living in a new place! You know, the obvious.”

“The obvious is why you always sound like you’ve been crying?”

You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands in frustration. “You know me,” you tried. “I’m emotional.”

“You’re emotional?! Is that what he says to you?” Shit, he was already getting angry and you hadn’t even told him anything yet.

“No! God, Steve. That’s not what I’m saying! I’m just trying to say that it’s been a difficult transition, but I’m starting to feel better about it.”

“And I’m asking you to tell me exactly what about it has been difficult.” 

You wanted to growl. Once he got an idea in his head, he was so fucking intractable. “What’s been difficult about moving across the country to a brand new city and living with a stranger??”

“Yes. Exactly. In detail please.” And then he just stared at you and you wanted to scream. 

“I’ve been a little lonely,” you conceded, hoping a partial truth might satisfy him. “Ransom has to work a lot and it’s been hard to know what to do with my time.” And then, without giving him time to react, you asked. “How about you? How are you? Now that I’m out of the way, is Joseph trying to set up matches for you?” It was a low blow, but you were grasping for any defense you could reach.

“I don't understand why you won't just tell me what's going on.”

“I'm trying! It's just a lot more complicated than you realize and I think that maybe once you're in an arrangement of your own–”

“My marriage won't be anything like this.”

At first, all you could do was gape at him. Then you just sighed. “I don’t think,” you started slowly, “that you can have any idea what a marriage like this is really like until you’re inside of it, Steve.”

He shook his head. “I know what sort of man I am,” he said confidently. “I know how I’ll treat my wife.” And you saw it then, the pity in his eyes, and everything in you bristled.

Sanctimonious. That was the word Ransom had used. You loved your step-brother so much. You’d defend him to the end of the world and back. But he really could be such an asshole sometimes. And seeing him now, like this, you could understand why someone like Ransom might hate him.

“Well,” you said, trying so hard to keep your voice even, “you’ll be lucky then. To have such an easy go of it. I hope you don’t find that it’s harder than it looks. That appearances can be deceiving.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s why I’m asking you to tell me. I don’t understand why you won’t.”

“Because I know you won’t listen! You’ve already decided what’s going on here!”

“Well, it seems pretty obvious! I know you, and I certainly know him. So yeah, when you’re crying every time I talk to you and you send me cryptic texts wishing I was here, yeah, I think I have a pretty good guess about what’s been going on.”

“You’re so frustrating,” you growled a little. Then you sighed. It was inevitable. You knew it. At this point, you just wanted to get it over with. “Ok. Fine. But you have to actually listen to me, ok? Like, to what I’m actually saying. You can’t just jump to conclusions. Okay? I’m serious.”

“Chip, yes, of course. I’ll always listen to you.”

You took a deep, fortifying breath. “It’s been– It’s been really hard here. I’ve been on my own almost the whole time and it’s just been really lonely. You just– you can’t know what it’s like to be married to a stranger. We haven’t known how to talk to each other and I just– It’s been really hard for both of us.” At that, Steve scoffed, but you couldn’t stop now, you had to get this out. “Anyway, um, a few days ago I learned some news, that was–” You paused to try to find the right word. You had no idea how to classify it. It wasn’t upsetting, per se, but what other word was there? “And then Ransom found out and that’s when I texted you. And slept in the gym.”

“What was the news?” Steve asked, gravely. He was looking at you so intently. You really didn’t want to do this, but you knew you had to.

You looked off into the corner of the room, unable to get this out and meet his eyes at the same time. “I’m pregnant,” you said quietly.

Steve stood up so abruptly that you couldn’t help but jump. “I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he actually snarled. You’d never heard his voice do that before.

“Steve, please,” you started, both hands out in a placating manner. “Please, can you calm down so we can talk about this?”

But, of course, he ignored you. “Where is he?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, helplessly. “He’s out. I don’t, I don’t know where.”

Steve didn’t say anything, just clenched his jaw and stood rigidly, his hands on his hips. You could practically see the untapped adrenaline coursing through him.

“Can you please just sit down?” you pleaded. “Just take a deep breath and sit down and we can–”

“I’m going for a run,” he said, curtly, then turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

“But you just got back from one!” you called after him. He wasn’t even dressed for a run. But that apparently didn’t matter. He was gone.

You just sat there for a moment, completely lost, with no idea what to do. Then you got your phone out and texted Ransom.

He knows

Don’t come back for a few hours, I think. He needs time to calm down. I’m sorry.

The checkmark showing he’d seen your message appeared almost immediately, quickly followed by the three dots that showed he was typing, but then those disappeared. A few moments later they came back but quickly disappeared again. No response ever came.

The men from the storage company came to take Ransom’s gym equipment away. You threw yourself into directing them, happy to have a distraction from worrying about where Steve was, what he was feeling. But then they were done, the room was empty, and Steve was still gone.

Ransom got back first. He found you in the former gym, trying to rearrange the couch cushions in the center of the room into something more comfortable. He paused in the doorway, Lola dancing around at his feet. “Where’s Steve?” he asked, as he bent down to pet her.

“He, uh–” you said without looking up, “he went for another run. He wasn’t very happy.”

“Fucking asshole,” Ransom muttered.

You finally looked at him, shaking your head. “No, he just doesn’t handle it well when he doesn’t know how to fix something.”

Ransom looked at you very seriously. “And if he makes that your problem, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“That's not– That's not what happened. That's not what he's doing.”

He stared at you for a long moment, causing you to look away, uncomfortable with the attention. “Okay,” he finally said with the hint of a sigh. “Well, I’ll be downstairs if you want company or…” He trailed off and shrugged, then left the room.

About an hour later, Steve burst back into the house, yelling into his phone. “Well, where the hell did that money go? There’s no reason for him to be that over-budget. I’ve seen the dailies. –No, you get down there and you get that set back under control. –I can’t, I’m not in LA. There was a family emergency. –Yeah, I know Joseph is still there. He isn’t my only family, is he? Listen, just go do your goddamn job.” With that, he hung up his phone forcefully then stomped upstairs without acknowledging you or Ransom where you were seated on the couch.  

You could feel the irritation coming off of Ransom but he didn’t say anything. You were grateful. You had no idea what to make of Steve right now, how to explain him. Or excuse him. The awkward silence was preferable to trying.

Several minutes later, Steve came back down, changed into fresh clothes again. He smiled at you in greeting and if not for the tense set of his shoulders, you would have thought everything was fine. “Hey,” he said, “I just ordered the two of us some food.”

“The two of us?” you asked, looking pointedly at Ransom.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed and the fucking fake look of surprise on his face made you want to scream. “I didn’t realize he was back. Well, I’m sure it’s fine. It’s his house. He’ll be able to scrounge up something.”

“Steve,” you started. Of all the unbelievably rude– 

Your ramp-up to letting your brother have it was cut short by Ransom’s hand on your wrist. “It’s fine,” he said quietly. He looked tired and sad in a way you hated. He looked annoyed too, beyond belief, but underneath all that, you also saw something pleading in his expression. You remembered what he’d said this morning. He wanted you to have a nice day with your brother. So you swallowed down all of your anger and didn’t say anything. But you cataloged everything so you could have a private conversation with Steve later.

“See,” Steve said with a smug grin, “it’s fine. This will be nice. It’s been too long since we’ve gotten to pig out together. I got all your favorites.”

Despite your protests, Ransom made himself scarce. The food arrived shortly after he disappeared and Steve dished it up like nothing was wrong. You sat and ate with him, even though you weren’t much up for conversation, despite his frequent efforts. He never said anything about the news you’d shared that morning. You tried not to be too hurt by that. 

As you were finishing up, Ransom quietly reappeared, grabbing something to drink from the fridge. Before he could run back upstairs, you stopped him, feeling awful that he must feel so unwelcome in his own home. “Do you want some food?” you asked, gesturing to the copious leftovers. “I could make you a plate.”

Not waiting for Ransom’s response, Steve cut in. “Is that how it works around here?” he asked, not of you but Ransom. “You’ve got her waiting on you on hand and foot?” his voice teeming with anger.

“Steve,” you hissed, trying to stop him, but he didn’t notice.

“I mean, I get it,” he continued, and there was a sharp edge to his voice that made you very nervous, “you must have thought you hit the jackpot, huh? Some sweet, naive little thing who's too young to really be plugged into the right part of the prep school rumor mill. Hasn't heard about the designer drugs, or the girls, or the parties. All the trouble your family's had to bail you out of. That's why they had to look clear on the other coast for an arrangement for you, huh? They had to go that far to find anyone who didn't already know what a piece of shit you are–”

“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS” you shouted, your stool loudly scraping against the hardwood floor as you stood up. It’d barely been there, you’d barely seen it, the flash of deep hurt on Ransom’s face before he’d covered it up, first with a blank mask, then a sneer that threatened to bring everything down. But you wouldn’t let that happen. You were fucking done. You couldn’t deal with this anymore. “Can you just stop, Steve?! I’m so tired of this shit!” you yelled at him.

“What?” they said in unison, both men facing you now, surprised.

“Lola!” you called out. “Come on! Steve and I are taking you for a walk!” She came racing down the stairs, and you quickly put on her harness and leash. Then you were out the door, trusting that Steve was behind you.

You walked in silence for a few blocks. You could feel him watching you warily, but you didn’t turn around to look at him. You didn’t think you’d ever been so mad at him in your life. It might’ve been the angriest you’d ever been with anyone. Your hands were shaking. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you finally seethed, stopping so suddenly that he almost ran into you.

“What?” His obliviousness made you even angrier.

You finally turned on him, your face heating up with rage. “You’re such a fucking asshole! You’re fucking everything up!”

He cowed just a bit at your glare but quickly recovered. “What are you talking about?! I came here to help you!”

“Well, you aren’t! I keep telling you that you aren’t but you never fucking listen to me!”

He recoiled a little, and then his eyes went steely. “Really? I never listen to you? I’m the only one who ever listens to you!”

Even if that were true, there was something about the way he said it that really pissed you off. “Fuck you!” you said and charged forward with Lola running to catch up behind you.

A moment later, Steve was on your heels again. “What is going on with you? You’ve been acting off since I got here.”

You spun on your heels to face him. “I’ve been acting off?! I wonder why! You’ve just barged in here like a bull in a china shop, not caring at all about the damage you’re doing!”

“I’m here to help you. I’ve been defending you!”

“Yeah, now! You’re trying to help me, now!”

“What does that mean?”

“Where have you been, Steve? You’ve been MIA the last three months, and now when things might actually get better, now you’re here to ‘defend’ me.”

“Better? This,” he hissed, flinging an arm towards your stomach, “is better?!”

“We had to do it. There was a clause in the contract. You know that!”

He scoffed. “Yeah, and I'm sure he reminded you of that every chance he got, as he fully took advantage of it.”

If he hadn't already set you off, that would be the thing to do it. “Never! Ok? I was the one who pushed it. I was the one who rushed It. Me. Never him.”

That brought Steve up short. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Because of your aunt!”

For a frustratingly long moment, he just gave you a confused look. Then you finally saw the realization dawn on his face. “Oh. Laura.”

“Yes, Laura! That wasn't going to be me. Not ever.”

“I never would have let that happen!”

The laugh that burst out of you at that was cold, hard. “How?” you asked. “You're always saying shit like that, but what, exactly, would you have done?”

He started to answer, but you cut him off quickly, shaking your head.

“This is my life, Steve. Mine. I’m the one who has to actually live it. I don’t need you judging me for how I choose to survive it.”

“You shouldn't have to just survive it,” he said. His tone had suddenly turned sad. It made you even angrier. 

“I'll be lucky to survive it,” you growled. “You get to just waltz around, forgetting how this world works whenever it's convenient for you. Meanwhile, I have to claw and fight for just the possibility that I might not turn into my mom.” You took a deep breath. “Ransom, at least, can fucking see that. He's stuck in this mess with me, and I think he might actually want to try. You’re not going to ruin that for me just because he insulted you once at a cocktail party or whatever.” You turned on your heels. You were exhausted. You didn't have the energy for any more of this. “I'm going back. You can come if you want. But you better fucking apologize. He didn't deserve that. No matter what he’s done, he didn’t deserve to be treated that way by you.”

Steve was a few minutes behind you getting back to the house, and he did apologize, although through gritted teeth. The whole time, Ransom’s eyes were on you. 

You declared you were going to bed shortly after. It was too early, but you didn't care. You were done with this day.

As you were changing into your sleep clothes, Ransom quietly let himself into his room. You both looked a little startled by your state of undress. Part of you wanted to cover up. It felt so intimate, changing in front of him. But you knew that was silly. He'd already seen so much more of you. 

He just stood there for a long moment before he finally spoke. “You yelled at him for me.”

“Yeah,” you said. “He deserved it.”

“But he's your brother.” He almost seemed confused. 

The absolutely absurd thought And you're my husband popped into your head unbidden, but thankfully you didn't vocalize it. “That doesn't change the fact that he was wrong.”

Ransom didn’t say anything. Just stood there with a furrowed brow. After too much silence you asked softly, “Did I do something wrong?”

He jolted a little, like he’d been somewhere else, then shook his head. “No, sorry, I just–” He took a breath. “Thank you. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.” 

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. You suddenly felt so sad for him. But honestly, the only person who’d ever done anything like this for you had been Steve. And you’d seen Ransom’s family. You knew he’d never had a Steve.

Sparing you from having to figure out a response, Ransom took a deep breath, “Listen,” he started, “about the things he said, I–”

You cut him off with a shake of your head. “We don’t need to talk about that right now. Sometime, maybe, but not right now.” Nothing about his past would change things for you now. You’d still be married to him either way. It was better to just focus on the man he was showing himself to be now.

Ransom took a long moment and looked at you carefully. Finally, he asked, “Did you yell at him for yourself too?”

You nodded, then added a quiet, “I did.”

“Good,” he said, then started to turn around. “I’ll try not to wake you when I come to bed. Good night.”

“Good night,” you whispered.

Right before he left the room, he turned back to add one more thing. “I’ve never seen you as naive. Not for a moment in this whole thing.” Then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

You just stood there, in the middle of the room, unable to move for a few minutes. Then you took a deep breath and moved into the bathroom. As you finished getting ready for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that maybe you had two people in your corner now.

Your bedroom furniture and other belongings were delivered the next day. The movers set up the heavy furniture and then left everything else to you. As you started to begin unpacking, there was a hesitant knock on the door frame. 

Steve stood just outside your now bedroom, looking far less sure than you were used to. “Would you like some help?” he asked softly. 

“Sure,” you said, with a little shrug, pushing some boxes in his direction.

The two of you mostly worked in silence, only broken by Steve’s occasional questions of where you wanted your things to go. After a while he finally broke, “Dad’s been piling a ton of new stuff on my plate.” You stopped what you were doing and looked at him, listening. “Responsibilities and projects and– He wants me to take on more of being the face of the studio, too, so lots of parties and dinners and stuff. My schedule has been out of control. I’d think he was getting ready to retire if I didn’t actually know him.” He let out a weak chuckle. When you didn’t react, didn’t join him, he put his hands up in defense. “Not an excuse, just–” he shrugged his shoulders a little helplessly and sighed, “just an explanation, I guess.”

“You told me that I could call you any time of day for any reason. That’s what you said. And then I did, and you were nowhere to be found.”

“I know,” he started, “I–”

You shook your head. It was your turn to talk. “I spent months here feeling more alone than I ever have in my life. I’ve had nothing to do, no one to talk to. I was living with someone I thought I needed to be scared of.” You paused, wondering if that would set Steve off, but he just sat there, waiting for you to continue. Like he was really trying to listen this time. “His family’s been so awful to me, his mom especially. And you know my mom's been no help. She just kept telling me to keep him happy, even though I didn't know how. And I didn't know how to talk to him and he didn't know how to talk to me. But I knew the only way I could even start to feel secure here was if we fulfilled every part of the contract. So,” you put your hand on your stomach self-consciously and shook your head. “And the only person I actually wanted to talk to was you, and you wouldn't pick up your fucking phone. It felt like I was just stuck here while you went back to your life and forgot about me.” Tears spilled past your lashes and you hurried to wipe them away.

Steve’s face, which had grown sadder as you'd been talking, completely crumpled. He crawled from his sitting position across the room to you as fast as he could. “Hey, no,” he said emphatically as soon as he was sitting in front of you. “I think about you all the time. I've missed you so much. I've been so worried about you. I know I haven't done a good job showing it. I'm so sorry I ever made you feel like I didn't care. I–” He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment. When he opened them, they had the distinct shine of unshed tears. “Talking to you was really hard. I felt like you weren’t actually telling me anything.” Before you even opened your mouth, Steve put up a hand to stop you from saying anything. “I'm not saying any of this was your fault. I know it's all mine. But I just didn’t know how to get you to talk to me. And if you wouldn't tell me what was wrong, then I couldn't fix it. I felt so useless. Every time we talked I felt so fucking useless. And so sometimes,” he paused like he was bracing himself, “sometimes it was kind of a relief to have the excuse of being busy. To have a reason to not call or text you back right away. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I was always thinking about you. I was always worried about you. But sometimes I just couldn't fucking talk to you.”

It took your breath away, the intense stab of hurt you felt. “I’ve never needed you to be useful,” you gasped out through your tears. “I just need you to be there for me. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I just need you to be there for me.”

“Shit,” he choked out, his voice so thick. “I know.” He moved forward, then paused, waiting for you to stop him. When you didn’t, he lunged for you, wrapping you in his arms. “I know. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.”

You just sat like that, holding each other for several minutes. When you finally pulled apart, Steve blinked his eyes clear and said, “I hope you know that I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, and took a deep breath, “and I forgive you for doing it anyway.”

You watched some of the rigidness leave his shoulders. “Thank you,” he breathed out.

Neither of you said anything, and there was still this tension in the room. You were so tired of it. You just wanted your brother back. You just wanted any normalcy you could possibly get, so you wiped the tears from your eyes and said, “You're right. I wasn't telling you anything. I think because I was afraid that if I did, you wouldn't listen past the first two words and then do something completely wild, like fly all the way across the country to punch Ransom in the face. Ridiculous, right?”

He just stared at you in shock and then clocked the wry smile on your face. He laughed despite himself, then rolled his eyes and groaned. “You're sure he didn’t deserve it?”

You pulled a small pillow from the box beside you and threw it at him, annoyed as he dodged it easily. “Yes, I’m sure, you asshole!” You scowled at him, but you couldn’t quite keep the corners of your mouth from ticking up. The whole room felt lighter now, easier to breathe in. It was such a relief.

“I can’t believe you actually like him now,” Steve whined, his whole face scrunched up in disgust.

You shrugged. “I still don’t really know him. But I’m going to try to. We both are, I hope. I don’t know, I think maybe we could be friends, eventually.” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s a best-case scenario I never really imagined.”

Steve looked at you thoughtfully, and with a hint of playfulness, said, “Well. I’m never going to like him.” His eyes got a little more serious. “But I’m really happy, and so relieved, that things are getting better for you.”

“Yeah, me too,” you said softly. Then you both went back to unpacking, conversation ebbing in and out much easier now.

Eventually, you heard him let out a long sigh. You turned to look at him as he carefully pulled something from a box. Oh. It was Mr. Bun Bun, your favorite stuffed animal as a kid. You remembered crying as you packed it away to put into storage, Steve sitting next to you, gently rubbing your back.

He slowly took a few steps to the head of your bed and then reverently placed it against your pillows. He just stared at it for a moment and then looked around at the rest of the room. “Wow,” he said, and he sounded so sad, “I guess you really live here now.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. “I've been here for months.”

“Yeah, I know. But I guess,” he shrugged, “I guess it still sort of felt like you'd be back any day. But all your stuff's here now. It just– It feels final.”

You looked around the room as well. It wasn't exactly like your old room in your old apartment but this was the closest thing you'd had to feeling home in months. “Yeah,” you said quietly, not quite sure what to do with these feelings. “I guess it does.”

Steve sat down on your bed and you immediately joined him. He knocked his knee against yours. “I know I keep saying this, but I really do miss you. It’s so weird to not have you in LA anymore. To go to all these parties and not be able to talk to you there. Or to be able to just drop by your apartment when I need to see you. Or when you need to see me.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “That’s why it’s so important for us to actually keep in touch.”

“I know,” he said, seriously. “I’ll be better at it. I promise.”

You hummed in response and grabbed his hand. Now that everything was out in the open, it was such a relief to just be able to enjoy his closeness, without the tension hanging over both of you.

After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and spoke again. “I’m gonna go home tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“You were right. I’m just in the way here. It’s time for me to go.”

“Ok,” you replied, your voice small. You weren’t sure how to feel about that—the last few days had been so hard and so exhausting. But you’d finally gotten your brother back and now he was leaving again? “Are you sure?”

He jostled you with his shoulder. “Hey,” he said gently with a smile. “I’ll be back. And I’ll even let you invite me next time.”

You smiled back. “Advanced notice?” you asked. “How novel!”

Steve grabbed one of your pillows and hit you with it. You collapsed into giggles, feeling lighter than you had for a long time.

You spent the rest of the day with your brother, which warmed your soul even more than you thought you needed. 

You took Lola out for a short walk in the evening, while Steve finished gathering his things before the car would come to pick him up. When you came back in, you found Steve and Ransom locked in a serious conversation. They spoke in hushed tones, leaning across the kitchen island to face each other. There was no yelling. No tensing muscles ready for a fight. All the same, it made you very nervous. 

They both quieted as they noticed your presence. That didn’t help to quell your worry at all. “What’s going on here?” 

Steve gave you his trademarked boyish grin. “Just getting to know my brother-in-law.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously then cast a concerned glance at Ransom, but he waved you off with a reassuring shake of his head. Steve was still grinning at you like everything was fine. He really could be such an asshole. “Sure. OK,” you said, resigned to whatever weird dynamic was happening in front of you. “Are you all ready?”

“Yup,” Steve nodded, gesturing to where his luggage was waiting by the door. “Car should be here any minute.”

You nodded back, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. He pulled you into a hug quickly. He just held you for a moment before you heard Ransom clear his throat behind you. “I’ll give you two your privacy.”

You pulled away just enough to see Steve look over your shoulder so he could say, “Remember what we talked about.”

You looked over to Ransom who held Steve’s gaze and firmly said, “Yeah, you too,” then went upstairs.

“The fuck was that?” you asked Steve.

“Nothing, just a conversation we needed to have.”

“Steve,” you sighed in exasperation as you separated yourself from him.

He put up his hands in defense. “It’s fine. I’m playing nice. I promise.”

“Sure.”

He took a step back and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s one more thing I need to say to you. I should have done it yesterday when you first–” he shook his head. “My reaction when you told me about the baby was awful, I know that. And I don’t know if ‘congratulations’ is something you want to hear right now, so I just want to say that I’ll be here for you, whatever you need. And I’ll be here for the baby too. OK? I just really needed to say that.”

You searched his face, his eyes for anything that might warn you that his words were empty, but all you found was sincerity. You took a deep breath. “All I need is for you to pick up your phone.”

“I know,” he nodded quickly. “I will.”

You were so torn between the exhaustion and frustration of the last few days and just how much you'd missed your brother. You pulled him into another hug. “You’re such a jerk,” you said with a hint of fondness.

“I know,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.

“And I love you so much.”

You felt him exhale, any remaining uneasiness bleeding out of him. “I know. I love you too.”

His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. “Your car is here,” you said sadly, pulling away.

“Hey, that’s ok. It’s not like they’ll leave without me.”

“No,” you shook your head, “you should go. You don’t want to get home too late.”

“Oh, chipmunk,” he sighed. “Ok, one more,” then hugged you again. “I’m so proud of you.”

You pulled back to look him in the eye. “What for?”

He took a moment to gather his words. Finally, he said, looking you right in the eye, “For being so much stronger than you should have to be.”

You had no idea what to say to that so you walked over to the door, Steve right behind you. 

At the door, he put one hand on his suitcase, and with the other, he grabbed your hand. “I’ll see you again soon. I promise.”

You nodded, searching for something to say. “Uh, thanks for coming.”

That elicited a big hearty laugh from him. “Yeah, sure.” He squeezed your hand. “Take good care of yourself.”

“You too,” you said, opening the door for him.

He gave you a big smile before he walked out the door. You watched the driver take Steve’s suitcase from him and open the back door for Steve to get in. You stayed in the doorway until the car slowly backed down the driveway and turned onto the road. After closing the door, you still stayed where you were, trying to breathe through the flood of emotions overtaking you. You already missed him so much, yet you were so relieved he was gone. What were you supposed to do with that?

You were finally jolted out of your reverie by the sound of Ransom coming down the stairs, the tinkling of Lola’s collar accompanying him. “Steve’s gone?” he asked as he came off the last step. 

When you nodded, you saw the way his shoulders slumped in relief. You held back the apology desperate to crawl out of your mouth. Steve’s actions weren’t your responsibility, you tried so hard to remember. But still, Ransom had lost the comfort of his own home for days. The guilt was there.

He got himself a water out of the fridge and then looked at you carefully. “How are you?”

The reflex to tell him you were fine was strong, but you did your best to resist it and answered honestly. “I don’t really know.”

He smiled a little ruefully. “I have no idea what’s normal for siblings.”

You chuckled lightly. “Neither do I.”

He took several steps towards you and you couldn’t help the way your body swayed in his direction, just a little. “But you’re alright?’

You nodded and said softly, “I will be.”

“Good.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the way the fingers on one of his hands drummed against his thigh. “Well. I just wanted to check on you before I went to bed.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, strangely aware of the space between you. “I appreciate it. It was a weird few days, but I think I’m ok. Or I will be.”

“Yeah. Good,” he said again. 

You both just stood there for a moment, the air around you oddly charged, until Lola pawed at your leg. “Right. Well, she needs to go out. So. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, then turned toward the sink as you went outside with Lola.

When you got back in, there was no sign of Ransom, so you led Lola upstairs to your new bedroom. She immediately hopped onto your bed, wagging her tail wildly. As you looked around, all of your things almost as they’d been in your apartment in LA, those feelings you felt while unpacking your things with Steve grew in you even more. You smiled at your little dog. “Yeah, feels almost like home, doesn’t it, Lola?”

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[msgexymunson]

Treasure

Description: watching the latest Mad Max film has you discovering something new about Eddie and his kinks 

A/N: just a smutty blurb I came up with when I watched that film last night! Ignore the timeline, just pretend Fury Road came out in the 80s. Please reblog if you like my work, I'll love you forever, promise.

Warnings: AFAB reader, NSFW, minors DNI, subby Eddie, breeding kink, p in v unprotected sex (reader on b/c) 

2k words

Masterlist 

The new Mad Max film blares its opening titles, echoing off of the tinny walls of the trailer. The lights are all off; darkness had fallen outside some time ago, so the only light came from the flickering blue glare of the TV. 

There was barely enough room to sit side by side on the narrow bed, so you sat between Eddie's spread legs, your back flush with his chest, cuddled in a swaddling embrace. You'd only been seeing each other for a couple of months, but the comfort of having his arms around you in such a natural way made you feel safe. 

"I've been looking forward to watching this, took a lot not to watch it before you came around." He admits, hand reaching up to stroke your face briefly. 

"Well, aren't I lucky." 

"Damn straight." 

You laugh, grabbing his hand and wrapping it back around your torso, settling down to watch the movie. 

Losing yourself in the film, you focus on the characters, the chases, the struggles. Then you notice Eddie's hand has drifted to your thigh. Your eyes roll upwards, he's usually handsy with you when you're trying to watch TV so this is not surprising. What is surprising is the nature of his movements. They seem compulsive, thumb rubbing back and forth as if he's not aware he's doing it. Staring at his hand, you see it's trembling slightly. 

You cup his hand with yours and he stops immediately. 

"You alright there baby? Are the girls that hot?" You quip, amusement in your voice. 

"Oh, no, not at all!" He shakes his head, a few strands grazing your cheek. "They're pretty, sure, not a patch on you." He responds, kissing your temple. The reply is so forthright and honest, like everything else he says to you. It's definitely the truth. Honestly, you wouldn't even be jealous if it was the girls that got him worked up. You know he's yours.

Settling back down, you continue watching, but curiosity is chewing on your brain. It's fuelled even further by a very familiar bulge that's now digging into the small of your back. 

It's only when you hear the character on screen saying 'his treasures, his prize breeders' and Eddie's hand grips your thigh hard, that you put two and two together. He tries to disguise it as a cough, but the damage is done. 

You tilt your head back a little so you can take in his profile. For once, Eddie looks nervous. His cheeks are flushed, eyes as wide as a bush baby, nibbling on his lip neurotically. He's never looked so flustered. 

The devil on your shoulder is whispering an idea in your brain that you can't ignore. Seeing him so worked up is doing something to you, blood travelling in between your legs. 

Softly, so he barely notices at first, you run your hands up and down his thighs. Gentle caresses, back and forth, until you feel him hum in his chest, melting slightly. He's relaxing beneath you. Your nails join in, dragging across the soft fabric of his sweatpants. 

"Eddie, am I your treasure?" You ask sweetly, voice as innocent as you can muster. 

"Of- of course, baby." He responds, a quiver in his voice, tensing up again at your words. 

"Is that what you want? For me to be your treasure?" You ask, pressing your back against him harder, beginning to gently grind on his bulge. 

"Wha-what do you m-mean?"

He staggers it out, his usual cadence gone. It's high pitched, almost whiny. This is going well out of your usual territory; it wasn't uncommon for Eddie to be pulling whimpers out of you, not the other way around.

You have to say it, to take the leap. 

Leaning to whisper right in his ear, you decide to just come out with it. 

"Do you want to breed me Eddie?" 

His eyes widen even further, mouth falling open. You continue to grind against him, your hands tracing higher up his thighs. 

"Is that it baby? You wanna fuck me raw, fill me up?" 

The noise he makes is alien to you. It's high, quivering and desperate. His breathing has quickened, hands coming to rest shakily on yours. 

Pulling them off you gently, you reach for the remote and pause the movie. Then, you swivel around so you can straddle him, throbbing heat pressed against his rock hard length. 

"Eddie, answer me." You say quietly, but firmly. His hands rest on your hips, anxiously rubbing the skin under your shirt. His shirt, the old one you'd stolen weeks ago. 

"I- I, erm, yeah, I mean, fuck" He stutters, losing control as you massage his length with each roll of your hips, only your panties and his sweats in the way of absolute pleasure. 

You grasp his chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing his gaze to meet yours. 

"Eddie. Words." 

"I mean, yeah." His voice is smaller than you've ever heard. Then, it all rushes out of his mouth in a jumble. 

"But I, I don't mean I want to like, have kids right now or something it's just-" 

"You like the fantasy." 

He nods so hard and fast it's almost comical. The puppy dog look he's giving you is so soft and you don't want to hurt his feelings, so you swallow your laugh. 

"You know, I was gonna mention earlier…" you start as you run a hand through the front of his hair, nails dragging on his scalp slightly, his eyes rolling back at the gesture.

"What sweetheart?" He all but whispers, his head rolling in tandem with your ministrations. 

"I'm on the pill now." 

His eyes snap back open, bugging out of his head almost. A laugh escapes then, you can't help it. It's a girlish giggle, which turns into a dirty smirk. 

Grinding against him harder, hand coming to rest on his chest, a moan sounds low inside you, echoing from deep within. The friction is good, making you wet, but it's not enough. 

You need him. Now. 

"So, you wanna fill me up? You can cum inside me, as many times as you want." 

"You'll let me?" He looks shocked.

"Oh please, sweets, please." 

His grip on your hips is harder now, fingers tight on your flesh. 

He all but sulks when you climb off him, pouting his bottom lip like a child. It's not for long though, as you shimmy out of your panties, discarding them somewhere on the floor. You pull his sweats off and away swiftly, to join the mire of mess on his carpet. 

Hovering back over him, you circle the tip of his leaking cock. It's teasing, you know, but he looks so flustered and sweaty and desperate. 

"Can I take this off?" He asks, tugging at the hem of your shirt, "please?" 

The question takes you back. You're not used to being in control, the thrill of it tingles through your nerves. You pull the top off very slowly, finally releasing your breasts. Eddie groans in his throat at the sight. 

As you sink down on him, you press your mouth on his, collecting his moans in your throat. Your pussy swallows him up, sucking him in greedily. You do the same with your tongue, fervently licking into him, heating up your mouth, your skin, your cunt. 

The room is soon filled with the sound of your slapping skin, your nails leaving red crescents into his shoulders. 

"Fuck, you feel so amazing. Go- go a bit slower, please." You comply, rocking into him, his swollen length jotting against your g spot with each pass. 

Leaning towards him, you let your lips brush against his ear, hot breath fanning against the shell of it. 

"This what you wanted baby, hmm? To feel everything…" Letting the word linger, you push against him harder, fingers winding into his hair. 

"Yeah, oh yes- fuck" 

"Yeah? You wanna cum inside me? Stuff me full of your cum? You want little Munsons running around the place, hmm?" 

He whimpers. He actually fucking whimpers. 

You pull on the lock of hair you've twisted in your grip, making his noises even more strangled. 

"Baby, oh my God, please, can I get on top?" 

"Of course, your treasure will do anything for you" you smirk. 

"Fuck!" 

He pushes you down then, flipping you onto the mattress as he fucks into you intensely, hand coming to your clit to rub tight circles. Even in his state he still wants you to come first. 

The coil in your stomach that has been tightening slowly speeds up at his touch, warming through your body, tingles reaching right to your fingers and toes. The heat is outstanding, buzzing between you both. Your insides are fluttering as you dig heels into his bare ass, forcing him as close as he can get, needing more, more. 

"Please come, Jesus Christ, I need it, I need it. Come so I can, please!" 

Its babble, spewing from his lips in urgent bubbles of sound. The subby neediness of it is what pushes you over that edge, clenching hard around his thick member, squeezing him to within an inch of his life. You scream out your release, throaty and rough, gripping his biceps tightly. 

"Oh my God sweets, fuck!" 

The feeling must be just as intense for him. You push him further, knowing he wants it. 

"Eddie, please cum inside me, I need your cum, I wanna feel it, fuckin' breed me Eddie." 

That was it, that pushed him over the edge; the word 'breed'. He releases deep inside, crying out your name so loudly you're sure the neighbours are going to complain. He's throbbing inside, still coming, and coming. Finally, it stops and he goes limp, slipping out of you. You accept his weight, holding him to you closely. 

A cold, wet feeling on your chest takes you by surprise. Looking down you see that Eddie is crying. Not hard, just little, hiccupping sobs that make your heart swell. 

"Shh, it's OK baby, it's OK." Attempting to placate him, your fingers run through his hair trying to soothe him. 

The whimpering stops and he looks at you, eyes almost shameful. 

"I'm so sorry that was pathetic, honestly-" 

"Baby, I ain't judging." Flashing him a soft smile. 

"I just never came that hard. Ever." 

Your chest swells with pride but you jolt as you feel his fingers on your soaking heat. 

"Baby what are you doing?" 

"Keeping my cum inside you." 

Giggles explode out of you, slapping his arm. He doesn't stop, fingers hard against your cunt.

"That was really fucking hot. I should let you take charge more often." 

"Let me? Seems I took charge all on my own." 

"And I thank you for it." He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your chin. 

He hesitates, fingers still harsh on your cunt. 

"Did you mean it?" 

"Mean what?" You stare down at him, confused. 

His voice drops down an octave, eyes flashing menace. 

"That I can cum in you, as much as I want?" 

Biting your lip, you nod. 

"Fill me up Eddie." 

"Fuuuck" He huffs, biting down on the soft skin of your breast, "give me five minutes and I'm gonna rock your world." 

Giggles are replaced by moans when he shoves two fingers inside your soaking cunt. 

Seems you've unlocked a new kink of his. You smile, happy to be his treasure. 

Taglist (I'm just tagging some likely candidates ;)

@munson-blurbs @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @emsgoodthinkin @names-were-taken @joejoequinnquinn @zestychili @lunatictardis @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @tlclick73 @corrodedcoffincumslut @unfocused81 @liminalpebble @truffleshuffle12 @bookshelf-dust

[cloudyskydreams]

Hi, I love the way you write and represent Sans with every detail, I was wondering if you could do a SFW AND NSFW headcanon of SansxReader. If you don't mind of course

Hi thanks so much for requesting, you asked and I shall deliver!! I'm just assuming they're general headcanons since it wasn't specific, I've been meaning to get around to some general headcanons because I feel they're a good way to work out some personality✨ I did masc and femme sans nsfw headcanons and left the reader ambiguous, As always hope you enjoy!!

Sfw:

•Expect alot of lazy cuddle times, they're his favorite he just loves being near you really, and his constant state is tired so being able to just take it easy with you is nice.

•On a completely opposite note you do motivate sans to do stuff he normally wouldn't. He'll get off the couch and out of bed to spend some time outside with you, his favorite date place is still grillbys but he'll try out new places with you sometimes.

•He sends you memes that make him think of you or he finds funny even if he's right next to you and can just show you. He'll send it and then watch you for your response, he'll make a joke about your phone going off if you don't check it immediately.

• The patrons at Grillbys get updated on you occasionally. Sans feels comfortable there and he knows most of the people so he lets his guard down and you're really special to him. So he ends up gushing about you and what you've done together ,nothing private of course, after a few drinks and his buddies are all really happy for him. They think you're good for him he seems a lot more stable since you came into his life.

•Sans will absolutely drag you out of bed to stargaze, he gets excited like a kid on Christmas his eyelights big and shining as he drags you outside with his telescope. He always plans little dates when there's going to be a space event like a super moon or meteor shower. He loves being able to indulge in his interest with you and hopes you have as great a time as he does.

•He loves making you actually laugh with his jokes and it makes him feel good and he loves hearing your laugh. It makes him feel proud of himself anytime he gets even a smile out of you.

•Sans just loves being close to you he'll follow you around the house, if you're doing dishes he has his arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your back. On the couch? His head is in your lap or he's just sprawled out over you. In the bathroom? If you're comfortable with it he's sitting in there with you on his phone looking at memes. Just enjoys being in your presence in general.

NSFW:

•One of Sans favorite things is giving oral, he gets to be between your thighs and can go at whatever pace he wants. He's an absolute tease and is definetly into edging while doing this as he wants to spend as much time in between your thighs as possible.

•Sans is a switch preference towards bottom. Not saying sub because he's still a teasing prick when he's underneath you but it's not hard to get him to sub. He looks pretty cute face flushed cornflower blue, moaning underneath you as you ride his cock/eat him out while his hands are tied to the bedsheet.

•Cockwarming is a big thing with him too, he likes to just lay there cuddled together while he's inside you watching a movie or on your phones. He likes to see how long you can last before you start moving as he's pretty patient. He might grind into your occasionally if he's in a teasing mood.

•On the opposite note if you want him to be on top he's more than happy to help. He enjoys snail position alot because he's close to your calves and can bite on them, or anything that really gets him close to your legs as he is a leg man.

•Feel like his ecto-cock is about 5.7 inches not the biggest but it's girthy and has some vein to it, his ectobody itself is chubby. In femme form he's got d cup tits and his chub is still there but he has more of a hourglass figure than before, and a cute blue innie pussy. (There's innies and outies y'all you're welcome for the info)

•His go to is the masc form but if you want femme he'll give you femme. Squeezing his plush thighs as you eat him out. A blush across his face as he watches you eyes lidded praising you for doing such a good job slipping a joke in there somewhere while he gently presses your face closer with a hand on the back of your head.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hello ❤️ I know you’re back home and I think are doing these on an as-you-can basis. If you’re just completely done, let me know! But I got in my feelings today about always being the third wheel and of course my brain wants to whump Steve about it, so here’s two lines from a conversation I had with a friend:

“When do I stop being a last resort?”

And

“When will I get people who care the way I care?”

Again, if you’re not doing these any more, that’s completely fine! Just thought I’d submit these in case you are. Feel free to use one or the other, or both! ❤️

Hello my star ✨ I am technically not doing them, but it kinda sounds like we both maybe need this one and I'm gonna use this a lowkey plug for everyone to consider participating in the @steddiemicrofic challenge. I'm going with the first one because I believe that even at Steve's lowest, he knows he has Robin to care about him a whole lot ❤️

----------

When the dust settles, when everyone seems to find a new rhythm, when they don't always look over their shoulder and wait for the next world-ending crisis, Steve finds himself alone a lot.

When Robin leaves for college, he finds himself alone most of the time.

The kids are back in school, everyone except Jonathan and Eddie have gone off to college, and those two seem to get along just fine without Steve inserting himself into their friendship.

They still come hang out with him sometimes, usually when they wanna rent a movie using his discount, or if Eddie wants to borrow his dining room for Hellfire.

The worst part is he says yes, puts a smile on his face, pretends he's happy just to get some attention, any attention.

And he is a little happy. Some attention is better than none, especially for a lonely person like him.

He watched everyone around him have each other, while he has himself.

He talks to Robin every other night, but he feels like he's burdening her, but would never say that. He just waits for her to stop answering the calls.

It all comes to a head one evening when Eddie is over at his house late, still cleaning up after Hellfire.

Steve had a bad week at work, customers just being rude over nothing, a migraine two days in a row, and now Eddie dragging his feet to leave.

The worst part? He didn't want him to leave.

Just the thought of another night alone had him tearing up.

He made sure to stay facing away from Eddie, unable to stop the tears from falling, but at least able to stay quiet.

Not quiet enough.

"Steve? What's wrong?"

He sounded so concerned.

"Nothing. Just a little overtired. Head still hurts a little. You know how it is."

He couldn't quite laugh it off, the sound more of a choked sob than anything.

Eddie's hands were on his shoulders, turning him around so he had no choice but to look at him, his worried gaze more than Steve expected.

"What's actually wrong?"

So much.

"When do I stop being a last resort?"

He hadn't meant to say that. He certainly didn't expect Eddie's reaction: pulling him close to his chest, his grip on his back and hair enough to make Steve sink into it.

He hadn't been hugged since Robin left for college.

"What do you mean? You're not a last resort."

"I'm no one's first choice. You only come here because I have the most room. The kids only ever call if they need a ride somewhere. I think at this point Robin only talks to me so she knows I'm alive."

The words were hard to get out but he did it. He felt slightly better just knowing he'd said them.

"Fuck. We've- I've been so stupid."

Steve pulled away.

"I just thought you wanted your space. We're done fighting monsters, so you can go back to just being Steve Harrington. I don't think any of us thought you still wanted to be around us. But we've taken what we thought we could get."

"What? Why would anyone think that?"

"Because you only got involved in all this protect people. Now you don't have to."

"I protected everyone because I cared. Why would I just stop caring?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds stupid."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Because it is stupid."

"So you do want us around?"

"Yes! I thought no one wanted me around anymore since they didn't need me."

Eddie shook his head, disappointment settling over him.

"That's so far from the truth. Dustin was upset the other day because he was convinced you were going to start telling him no when he asked for rides and he didn't know how else to see you."

Steve let it sink in, the words and the way Eddie still hadn't let go of him completely, still had his hands resting on his lower back as Steve looked up at him.

"For a smart kid, he sure is dumb."

Eddie laughed loudly, smiling down at Steve as some of the tension released from his body.

"I guess we all are."

"Including me."

"You're very loved, Steve. By all of us."

"All of you?"

"Yes. All."

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (November 26-December 2, 2023)

I wasn't over the moon when Toho announced that Takashi Yamazaki's Blockbuster Monster Movie was in fact the next Godzilla film. I had seen a few of his works—none bad, but none spectacular either. Well, I've set my sights on watching the rest in the new year, because Godzilla Minus One is an unqualified masterpiece. A tagline from the original Godzilla, King of the Monsters! comes to mind (as it often does when you're me): "Mightiest melodrama of them all!" A lot of the post-Showa films suffer from an abundance of characters who just spout exposition and look at monitors; here, almost everyone in the small cast gets at least one close encounter with Godzilla, and the monster's backstory is conveyed with extreme efficiency. This tale of a war veteran trying to rebuild his life in the ruins of Tokyo, stumbling into a family, finding fulfillment in blowing up leftover mines, and haunted by what he perceives as his cowardice in combat, would have been plenty compelling without Godzilla.

Since it does have Godzilla, it's high on my list of the best movies of the year, and I only need one viewing to call it one of the best installments in the almost-70-year-old series. Yamazaki patiently waited some 15 years after Always: Sunset on Third Street 2 for his shot at a Godzilla feature. You certainly get the sense, watching one of the most brutal, pissed-off incarnations of the monster ever to grace the screen, that he spent every day of it in preparation. Watch it often while it's still in theaters, and watch it big.

Godzilla Minus One will gross about $10 million in its U.S. opening "weekend", a third-place finish that beat expectations. For context, Godzilla 2000, the last Toho Godzilla film to receive a wide release here, made about $10 million during its entire theatrical run here. Ticket prices were cheaper then, of course, and Minus One was helped along further by almost half of attendees going to premium-format screenings. Conversely, it had to overcome Americans' subtitle phobia, and the first weekend of December is usually a slow one. I was pessimistic at the outset, but now I expect larger theaters to carry the film into the new year, especially with near-universal raves from critics and audiences.

Yes, a third section for Godzilla Minus One; it's well-deserved, I promise. MyKaiju is risking life and limb by hosting an English translation of the film's novelization, written by Takashi Yamazaki himself. It appears to be at least partially machine-translated, but the Japanese text is included for comparison. Haven't read it yet, as I want to see the film a second time first, but quite a breakthrough given how mysterious this sort of thing usually is.

Monarch: Legacy of Monsters could never hope to compare with the opening of a stellar new Godzilla film; unfortunately, I also thought this week's episode was the weakest so far. It's bookended by Frost-Vark action, but the rest just drags. All's forgiven if the teacher and the hacker smooch though.

Toho and Legendary used to let each other's live-action Godzilla movies breathe; now the U.S. opening weekend of one is coinciding with the opening marketing push of the other. IGN released a trio of pics from Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, showing Kong with his axe; Dr. Andrews, Jia, and Trapper (Dan Stevens's character) in uniform; and Godzilla "evolving into a powerful new form." The same article included an interview with director Adam Wingard. Naturally, he didn't give away much... besides the return of Doug.

Earlier in the week, Legendary put out a trio of posters featuring Godzilla, Kong, and the film's antagonist, now christened Skar King. The taglines ("Unite" for our heroes, "Bow to Your King" for SK) sound like kaiju campaign slogans. Makes me wonder if, like Godzilla vs. Megalon before it, the movie will improbably capitalize on the presidential election next year. To steal a joke from Titanollante: Godzilla/Kong unity ticket? They'd have my vote.

Godzilla's new form, meanwhile, has already been spoiled by a T-shirt on Legendary's own site and some dire-looking Playmates figures. It makes sense that Wingard would want to have his own spin on the character after keeping the design from Godzilla: King of the Monsters for Godzilla vs. Kong. Hard to cast judgment without seeing the real design in full, but there's one particular detail I really like.

The film also has a booth at CCXP in Brazil, with a panel later today, so I think a trailer is incoming (the main reason I hammered out this whole post so quickly).

I missed this one last week: Tsuburaya announced an anime project called Ultraman: DARKNESS HEELS. The DARKNESS HEELS branding has been around for a while, spotlighting prominent evil Ultras—and, of course, Jugglus Juggler. No details on the anime yet, but if the Juggleman's there, so am I.

The big toy reveal this weekend was Super7's ULTIMATES! MaiGoji figure. Previous Godzilla figures from this line haven't lived up to the official photos, but hope springs eternal. It's $85 (much less than the MonsterArts); preorders started Friday. Other highlights: a Super7 ReAction figure of the original Godzilla's skeleton, which comes with a little Oxygen Destroyer, and a plush Mothra from Surreal Entertainment that can flip to imago form to a neck pillow-shaped larva.

[novelmonger]

Continuing to watch through the Writer/Director commentary of LotR (with Peter Jackson, Philippa Boyens, and Fran Walsh) and jotting down any new-to-me information I come across. Here's what I gleaned from TTT:

When they got the New Line logo to put on the movies, it was very old and scratched, so PJ gave it to Weta to touch it up. They joked about how they should bill New Line for it XD

Originally, the studio wanted TTT to start off with a prologue too, with Cate Blanchett narrating what sounds like it was basically going to be a "Previously on..." spiel, even though they didn't like the idea of the prologue in the first one. Thankfully, these three ignored the studio's advice both times XD

The Uruk who says "Manflesh" is also the guy in Sauron's armor in the prologue!

In the scene where the Rohirrim find Theodred, it's not actually raining! They used rain towers for the close-ups, but any wide shots just have CG rain. I would never have guessed!

Andy Serkis did the voices for the Uruk-Hai who says the "maggoty bread" line, and the orc who says, "Yeah, why can't we have some meat?" (The actor in the suit for the latter is, of course, Jed Brophy, who went on to play Nori in the Hobbit movies.)

Somehow it never registered for me that Orlando Bloom has brown eyes, and so he had to wear blue contacts when he played Legolas ^^' But sometimes he wasn't able to wear the contacts (or forgot), so there are some scenes where they had to fix it in post.

PJ called the Treebeard from the animated Bakshi movie "a walking carrot" XD He also said that Treebeard is his favorite character!

The scene with Smeagol killing Deagol was originally going to be a flashback right after Frodo says his name, and then the Nazgul shriek would pull the audience out of the flashback. They decided not to do that for pacing reasons and because we haven't spent much time with Gollum yet, so that's why they put it at the beginning of RotK instead.

Bernard Hill had his son with him on the shoot and would play with him in his downtime on the Edoras set. Puts things into perspective when you hear that he was the one who came up with the line "No parent should have to bury their child."

They were originally looking at Bernard Hill for Gandalf! (I feel like I've probably heard this before, but anyway.)

They filmed a flashback to Aragorn and Arwen's first meeting?! Viggo shaved to make himself look younger, and it was a scene of the two of them "frolicking about the forest." It was originally going to be put in the Lothlorien sequence, but they cut it out in favor of that scene between Aragorn and Boromir, because they decided it was more important to earn Boromir's death scene than to remind the audience of the romance. I agree with that decision, but it would be cool to see that footage! (I say as someone who prefers to skip the TTT Aragorn/Arwen scene entirely XD)

Originally, the warg battle was going to happen at Edoras itself. It was going to be at night, everything was going to be on fire, and ultimately that was going to be the reason everyone evacuated and went to Helm's Deep. Also, a warg was going to be set on fire and end up dragging Aragorn through the streets, and that was going to be how Aragorn would be left for dead. Ultimately, the reason they did it the way they did was because the studio wasn't sure Weta could do a flaming warg (something all three of them laughed about, considering everything Weta did manage to do with flying colors), and because it would have been a nightmare to light the Edoras set at night, because that location was so remote and so windy. Which is why every scene in Edoras takes place in the daytime!

In the scene where Faramir talks about his dream where he saw Boromir in the boat, you can see a sort of pinkish color in the water around Boromir's body. That's because the dye from his shirt (surcoat? idk) was leaking out into the water! XD

When Andy Serkis did ADR for the Forbidden Pool scene, he couldn't manage to sing the song off-key, so they had to use the audio from the motion capture footage XD

They shot some additional footage of Aragorn unconscious on Brego's back, riding past an orc encampment, that they never ended up using.

Theoden was originally going to give a speech to the soldiers in the armory, but Bernard Hill's performance was so inspiring that it defused most of the tension they were trying to build up before the battle, so they took it out. Would love to see that footage!

So the boy Aragorn encourages before the battle ("There is always hope.") was Philippa Boyens' son, who was 13 when they filmed the scene. But by the time they went to do ADR, his voice had broken, so they had to get a different child actor to say his lines.

Aww, the extra who was missing an eye said he always felt self-conscious about his missing eye, so he always wore an eyepatch. But then after they gave him a close-up and the guy saw the movie, he said he felt much better about his appearance! :')

Treebeard's line "I always like going south; it feels like going downhill" was ad-libbed!

When Saruman turns and reacts to all the water pouring in and washing his machinery away, that shot was actually a reaction shot to Wormtongue on top of the tower from the RotK movie that they repurposed for this scene instead, since they hadn't shot any reactions to the flood.

At least at the time of the recording of this audio commentary, the final shot of Gollum, where he's arguing with himself and ultimately decides to lead Frodo and Sam to Shelob, was the longest CG shot in any movie. (I tried to google what the current record is, but couldn't find anything, so if anyone knows, I'd love to hear about it!)

Fran Walsh: "All cinema storytelling, to a degree, is shallow. That's the nature of the medium. You've got two or three hours to present a world and a dense story with a hundred themes and a ton of backstory, in this instance, and 22 characters...so you can only really have the veneer of depth. You really can't have anything that comes close to the depth of the books, or the experience of the books. So I think what we attempted to do was to use the language of the books where we could and to certainly invoke them, the iconic images, where we could, but to keep the storytelling very much...to modernize it, if you like, in terms of cinema language. So we didn't, for example, use the style of storytelling that was in the books between these different after-the-fact storytelling, of Sam and Frodo and then a chunk of the Aragorn story. We completely undercut it. That was a far more immediate and engaging way to connect it to the audience. You can't really hope to satisfy people who adore this book, with the movie. You can only ever give them the sense of what might have been. That's all a film can do. I think, in that sense, films...I mean, they're entertainments. They're just not going to give you the pleasure that a book can give you."

[space-helen]

Movie

Words: 592

Pairing: Nick Stokes x Reader

A/N: not really proof read properly I just had a quick skim. Also how good does he look in this gif ?!?!?!

Request: Hi! I'm new to your page, but I've fallen down a rabbit hole! I love your writing style, and I, too, have been obsessed with CSI lately and Nick along with it. I was wondering if you might write a story about just a simple, fluffy meeting between the reader and Nick? I know I haven't given much, but I feel like the task would be in capable hands! Much love! -a big fan :) - Anon

______________________

Letting out a sigh you leant back in your seat and closed the file in front of you. Some of the seemingly small cases could drag out a hell of a lot longer than anyone would expect. 

“What’s up?” Nick's familiar voice made you turn towards him instinctively. “Did you close the case yet?”

You nodded “Just about. I’m totally ready to start working on something else.”

The man smiled and leant against the doorframe with his arms crossed “Well good news for you is that we’re all being pulled into the Sturley case from tomorrow. It’ll give you something a bit more substantial to sink your teeth into.

“You’ll fill me in?”

“Of course I will but I think it can wait. Is your car still in the garage?”

“Yeah, Catherine gave me a lift in today but I think she left early.”

“I don’t mind driving you home again.” he stood up properly and made a slight gesture for you to leave.

“You don’t have to. I can get a taxi or wait until Greg goes home since we live in the same direction.”

The man waved it off “Y/N, if I’d just worked the case you've worked I’d be running for the door.” he took a step towards you “Really, I don’t mind taking you home. It’s nice to have the company and it’s not really out of the way.”

“It’s in the completely opposite direction.” you laughed as you picked up the file and shoved it into the nearby cabinet.

“Oh shush.” he laughed “Just let me alright?” “Alright alright. What would I ever do without you?” you said sarcastically.

“Not have anyone to watch movies on days off with.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and began to leave the room, leading the man towards the locker room. “Good point but I’m sure Greg would do it.”

“Awww Y/N, how could you be so cruel? I didn’t know you had it in you. Do you want to also ask Greg to drive you home?”

“What’s this about me?” Greg’s voice joined from the locker room.

You laughed as you moved to your locker to grab your things. “Nothing Greg it’s alright.”

“She wants you to watch movies with her instead of me.”

“I’m honoured, but I think Nick may kill me if I do that.”

The man put his hands up “Hey, hey, if you want to watch movies with Y/N go ahead.”

There was a brief moment between the two men, Greg knew Nick liked you a lot. “How about the three of us watch movies instead?”

“The point was to get rid of me Greg.” Nick deadpanned as he grabbed his own things.

“I don’t actually want to get rid of you Nick.” you laughed as you closed your locker door.

"I’ll leave the two of you to it.” with that Greg practically dashed from the room, giving Nick a subtle wink as he left.

Smiling to himself Nick closed his locker door and turned to you. “Ready to go?”

“I suppose” you shrugged but you couldn’t fight the smile that was trying to form on your lips. “Can we grab something to eat on the way back though. We can eat it at mine.”

“Sure as long as I get to pick. The place you chose last time-”

“I know. Don’t remind me. It clearly wasn’t as good as people were saying.”

“I’d do a lot for you Y/N but I’m not getting food poisoning again if I can help it.”

Tag List: (open) CSI: @perasperaadastrawriting @penny4yourthoughts

[iamawolfstarsimp]

Sup bitches im back

And I've come bearing gifts of yet another spn fic (I'm in my active writing era 😌💅)

(this is set in season 13 or 14)

So yeah enjoy

Jack was a curious kid, obviously. It was no secret the kid loved to learn about most anything and everything. Even just listening sometimes was enough for him.

Once Dean had gotten attached to the kid, he didn't really mind answering all of Jack's questions.

Jack was especially curious whenever he was allowed on a hunt with them, wanting to know everything about what kind of monster they were hunting.

On an ordinary day though, Jack was more quiet. You could usually find him in his room reading while listening to rock music (Dean had told him that it was the only 'good' kind of music) or watching cartoons on the TV that Cas had given to him from his room. Mostly, they all kept to themselves on the days between hunts.

But often times Dean would gather everyone in the living room area for a movie night while they ate dinner. Cas would usually make some kind of warm drink after they all ate, Dean always got to pick the movie (regardless of how many protests were shouted at him), Sam had taught Jack how to make popcorn and Jack used that skill whenever he got the chance, and Sam took the opportunity to just relax on the couch with them.

Often times Sam would fall asleep during the movie, and Dean would bitch about it afterwards as loudly as he could. Jack had recently taken up Sam's habit though. Every time they all sat down to watch something you'd turn around Jack was dozing off, usually leaning against someone's shoulder.

As cute as it was, Dean couldn't stand for Jack to miss the death star exploding.

Dean had been chosen that evening as Jack's human pillow, so it was easy enough to reach over and poke him several times in the side to try and rouse him.

Jack shifted over and ignored the pokes, snuffling into Dean's arm.

Dean repeated the action a few more times, until he noticed a small sleepy smile on Jack's face that he was trying to hide.

Dean hummed quietly but let the kid sleep, saving that information for later.

After the movie ended (and, yes, Jack did miss the exploding of the death star but it wasn't like this was his first time seeing A New Hope) they all stayed seated, relaxed in their spots making idle conversation.

Jack was now awake, listening to Sam and Cas' conversation about which star wars movie was the best. Dean turned his attention from the pair to look at Jack.

"I can't believe you-" Dean said, rapidly poking Jack's side causing the kid to curl up and swat and Dean's hand. "fell asleep during the best star wars movie and the best part of it."

"I didn't mean to!" Jack giggled, using one hand to protect his side the other to hold onto Dean's hand.

"Mhm, sure you didn't." Dean eyerolled, now launching a full on tickle attack on Jack.

Dean leaned over and dragged Jack into his lap, using one his hands to hold his outer arm above his head leaving his entire left side exposed. His free hand darted around Jack's torso, tickling as many places as he could. Jack attempted to grab Dean's hand but was too slow to catch him and couldn't predict correctly which spot Dean was going to go to next so he just resorted to holding onto Dean's forearm and trying to control his laughter.

"Do you know how to play guitar, Jack?" Dean asked while still tickling him.

"No!" Jack said through his giggles.

"Well, what we have here," Dean pat Jack's stomach. "is a good old fashioned guitar."

Jack's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his head tilting to the side.

"~Juuust gotta make sure it's in tune before I can play anything on it, of course." Dean grinned at him.

He held his right hand as if he had a guitar pic in his hand and pressed his fingers against Jack's ribs. He pretended to "play" the guitar, Jack's ribs being the strings.

He tested different ribs, listening to Jack's different laughs as he did so.

"Sounds tuned to me." Dean nodded. "That means we can play it now. "

Jack was about to make his protests known but Dean had already started, picking up and down Jack's whole side.

He threw in some light scribbles every now and then when he got up high on Jack's ribs, just to hear him squeal.

Jack promptly lost his mind, lost in his own mirth. He threw his head back against one of the couch pillows, cackles spilling out of him freely. His squirming intensified too, wiggling in every direction to get away from Dean's wiggling fingers.

He noticed that Sam and Cas had been watching for some time now, fond smiles on both of their faces. Dean noticed too and grinned at them.

"Do you guys like my guitar?" He raised an eyebrow. "Probably the nicest one I've ever played."

"Oh, I bet." Sam nodded. "I mean considering that you've never owned a guitar and nor do you know how to play, but if that one can give you the skills to play like that then that's one nice guitar."

Dean chuckled. "Wanna hear how it plays?"

"Dean, nohohOHO!!" Jack shrieked, arching his back. Dean alternated spots, going from right next to Jack's armpit to down low next to his hip. Jack's giggles jumped in both pitch and volume several times.

"I like this note." Dean teased. He scratched on Jack's highest rib, his laughter jumping up to a near screech. He squirmed violently twords the ground, almost falling out of Dean's arms before he was pulled back into Dean's lap.

"My guitar likes to wiggle apparently," Dean laughed, going back to the same spot that he was tickling before. Jack squealed again, giving up on trying to escape and just taking the tingly sensations overtaking his entire being. It was as if he could feel the tickles through his whole body, from his ears, to his neck, all the way down his torso and legs, electric tingles shooting down his knees, to his constantly moving feet which were currently kicking the couch in an effort to help give himself some relief from the sensations that were surging throughout his body.

After a few minutes when Jack had properly melted in Dean's lap from exhaustion, Dean finally stopped, releasing Jack's arm and letting him roll over onto his stomach. Dean rubbed up and down his back grinning down at the kid, though he couldn't see.

"You okay, Jack?" Sam asked after a few minutes.

"Y-yeah," Jack answered.

Dean rubbed a soothing hand through his hair, letting him fully relax.

"Hey, if you ever need any help getting Dean back, I'll gladly help you out Jack." Sam said. "He's ridiculously ticklish just like you." He smirked.

"Shut up." Dean glared at him. "You're just as bad."

"Statistically, Sam is less sensative than you are, but you and Jack seem equal in ticklishness." Cas held back a smile.

"You shut up too." Dean pointed at Cas. Sam laughed at them both.

Once again, Jack felt himself falling asleep but this time to the sounds of his family getting into a silly argument rather than the sounds of blaster fire and exciting background music.

Hope you liked

[jimintomystery]

DS9: "Past Tense, Part I"

The Defiant delivers Deep Space Nine's senior staff to Earth, for a symposium about the Gamma Quadrant. But when Commander Sisko, Lieutenant Dax, and Doctor Bashir beam down to Starfleet Headquarters, the transporter beam sends them back in time, where they face the hellish conditions of, uh, approximately four months from now.

I don't watch this one much, because the dystopian nature of the Sanctuary District is a real drag. The whole point of Star Trek is the escapist fantasy that humanity will someday work out all its major problems (and find weird new problems, in outer space). Of course, the tradeoff is that every now and then we need to examine what those problems are, and why it's not easy to get from our present day to Star Trek's 24th century.

I've always been fascinated that this episode takes us to August 2024, roughly thirty years after the script was written. The standard move in a Star Trek time travel story is to visit present-day Earth, so the Starfleet officers can find our lifestyle primitive and barbaric. Star Trek seemed wary to look ahead to the early 21st century, perhaps because the 1960s TV series established lore about the 1990s that become awkward when the franchise survived into the '90s. At the time, though, I was confident that the '90s showrunners would be more savvy about looking ahead to the near future. I probably didn't expect to be sitting here in 2024, re-evaluating how well they did.

The key thing this episode gets right is not overdoing all the futuristic gadgets. The computer terminals and ID cards look like props from a an old cyberpunk movie, but they don't get in the way of the story, so it's easy to ignore them. There are no smartphones, and nobody seems to be Extremely Online, but it's just as well--most of the characters are too destitute or too overworked to stand around posting memes about the Drake-Kendrick Lamar feud. The most jarring anachronism, really, is that Chris Brynner--a Silicon Valley tech entrepreneur--is not a totally delusional, narcissistic asshole.

When this originally aired, the Sanctuary District concept seemed over-the-top to me. Nowadays, though, I think about "Past Tense" every time I read about Chicago's migrant shelters, or drive past a tent city. In the story's 2024, Sisko and Bashir are detained for the "crime" of being asleep outside and having nowhere else to go. In the real 2024, the Supreme Court is currently considering whether this is cruel and unusual punishment, and I'm afraid they're going to decide it's not. In 1995, I thought it would take some sci-fi plot device for things to get this way within thirty years. Now I realize the writers were extrapolating from societal issues that were building up before I was born.

[gogobootz1]

Creepy Crawlies

Spider-man x reader

Summary: You never expected your museum internship to be reminiscent of the Night at the Museum movies, but life comes at you fast. As it turns out, so do giant spiders.

word count: 2k

“And as we round the corner, you’ll enter our history wing,” you said, doing your best to not sound entirely monotone. You knew you weren’t succeeding. Despite your best efforts, your heart just wasn’t in it. Yesterday morning, you'd been dumped.

You hadn't even been seeing the cute guy from your photography course for two weeks. You'd been on two dates with him (both of which he'd been late for) before he decided it just wasn't working out.

Well, that was fine by you. It was his loss. Really. You weren't even upset. You had hardly cried yesterday, and you didn't even eat all your ice cream. Did you spend your entire day off hiding under blankets and watching tv? Maybe, but you came to your paid internship today, despite the heavy rain, and that was what mattered.

A shout of your name interrupted the half-hearted tour you'd been giving. You wheeled around to find your boss looking at you expectantly.

"Did you forget?" He asked.

You stared at him blankly, "Forget what?"

"Addie?"

Recently the museum curator's ten-year-old daughter had taken a liking to you. Apparently, Addie's nanny had gone home to France for a month, so her mother was using the museum she ran as free childcare. The girl had taken turns with all the museum staff but decided you were the best. Thus, your superiors stuck her with you. You were reluctant at first, but Addie was good company, so you didn't really mind. Plus her mom said she'd give you a bonus at the end of your summer internship.

"Oh no," you said, eyes wide.

Your boss nodded at you, "Go, I'll take your tour." Before he was even done talking, you were jogging towards the new arachnid exhibit.

"You're late," the pig-tailed girl said. She sat on the floor outside the blocked-off entryway. Officially, the exhibit wasn't opening for another week, but Addie demanded early entry. She said that she would judge the presentation you prepared for the hall, and give you pointers on how to make it even better.

"I'm sorry," you replied, ducking under the caution tape to pull back the tarp. "I lost track of time."

The girl ducked under your arm and into the exhibit. You followed close behind, not eager to lose sight of her in an area still under construction.

"I've been told that most of the work in here is done," you started, "but it's important to keep away from anything they're still putting together." Addie did not seem impressed by your warning and began wandering toward the crowning jewel of the space.

"Woah," she said in awe, staring up at the twenty-foot spider resting on its even larger faux web. It was certainly a feat of engineering. "How'd they build that thing?"

"I think some Hollywood special effects guy helped," Addie shrugged.

"Well, it sure is freaky," you said. Creepy crawlies had never been your thing.

"No!" Addie was quick to scold you, "It's amazing!"

"Ok, I guess it's kinda cool," you conceded, "but it looks like it'll come to life and eat us."

"That's the point! My mom says it's a detailed replica of a Black Widow Spider, meant to give people a better look and dispel their fears," Addie nodded confidently.

You eyed the thing skeptically, "I think I'll have to overcome my own fears before I can help people dispel theirs." Addie rolled her eyes at you and grabbed your wrist, dragging you away from the giant spider.

"Come on, let's look around while I tell you why spiders are cool and not scary. You should add all this to your tour material, by the way," she told you seriously.

Marching you past areas on jumping spiders, giant spiders, foreign spiders, and local spiders, Addie seemed determined to change your mind about the creatures.

"Ok, they might be important, but I still think they're icky," you shrugged at her. She made a face at you and dragged you on for another few steps before you stopped. Looking at the display you tried not to shiver.

"Come on, there are more spiders to see," she demanded.

"You know, I think you're on to something," you told her. She turned to you, confused. "Spiders really aren't the worst," you barreled on, "ticks are." You gestured toward the tick display.

"Eugh," Addie said, disgusted.

"I didn't even know those were arachnids," you admitted.

"Those are worse than scorpions," she nodded along. "I don't think I've seen the scorpion section yet," she scanned around for it.

"It's over there," you gestured, "they need to glue the tip of his tail on to make him scary. Can't make him worse than our spider friend, though," you nodded towards the giant display.

Suddenly, Addie looked afraid, "you might be right."

"Are all the spider pictures finally getting to you? I've been itchy for the last ten minutes. I feel like I need to wash my hair," you shivered, unaware of the larger issue.

"Your hair's fine," Addie said, staring over your shoulder, "but we might not be."

You were taken aback by her words, "What?" Your voice gave out when you saw the twenty-foot spider crawling down off its web and towards you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched in crawl closer. "Run," you whispered. The ten-year-old didn't need to be told twice. She bolted out of the room and started screaming. It took you another few seconds to listen to your own advice and start after her.

"RUN," you screamed, hoping the closest visitors would hear you and heed your warning. "GET OUT OF THE BUILDING."

The spider was light. Its footsteps sounded not much heavier than that of a few bustling museum-goers. What it lacked in weight, it made up for in speed, and it was gaining on you. When you rounded the corner into the main entrance of the museum, all hell broke loose. If Addie's screaming and your hollering hadn't scared anyone, the giant black widow spider chasing you certainly did.

People who had just walked in the doors ran back out of them. A practical mob of people pushed and shoved their way through the exit. Some people entered further into the museum, vying for back doors. You were just busy trying not to catch a stray bullet as the security guards opened fire on the creature chasing you.

The warnings you'd been yelling turned quickly into screams of terror as you faced danger on every side. Stampeding crowds trying to leave had quickly begun to trample each other. More security guards arrived to shoot at the thing behind you, and you could've sworn the spider herself had just dripped venom onto you.

But how could a museum display spider have venom? And, more importantly, how could it come alive?

You didn't have time to ponder these questions as you were swiftly removed from the situation. Suddenly you found yourself standing on the second floor, looking out over the chaos.

"Addie said you might need a save."

You turned to see Spider-man standing behind you. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing the little girl was safe.

"Great timing," you said. It was all you could manage after the biggest shock of your life.

"Are you alright?" The masked man asked, seemingly concerned.

"I think it spat on me, but I really don't know how it did that because it shouldn't have organs," you said, perplexed.

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, no, this thing is a display piece," you tried to explain.

"I guess all press is good press," he shrugged. "How much did this cost?" The hero seemed surprised.

"It didn't use to be alive," you told him gravely, eyes wide.

"Got it, that makes more sense," he nodded.

"Does it?" You asked, thoroughly upset by the events of the day.

"You know what? Maybe not," Spider-man replied, turning to look at the scene unfolding. You followed his gaze to see the bottom half of a security guard hanging out of the spider's mouth. "Oh, wow, is that my cue," he said, jumping onto the railing. "Stay safe!" He pointed at you as he fell backward off the second floor.

You raced to the edge to see the masked hero catch himself with a web before landing on the spider's back. He squeezed the thing by its throat, trying to get it to spit out the security guard.

"Security guards are not a snack!" Spider-man said as he wrestled with it. "Don't make me do the Heimlich on you!"

Finally, the spider regurgitated the security guard to focus on the nuisance on her back. "Cool- it worked! Maybe that was the Heimlich."

Spider-man launched a web to the ceiling and swung off the giant spider's back. Dropping closer to the ground, he started webbing the thing's legs together. Eventually, the thing lost its balance and fell to the marble floor with a resounding thud.

"I guess I can add exterminator to my resume," the masked man said, standing over the felled spider.

He gave the thing's head a firm kick, accidentally separating it from its body. "Oh shit," he said, pulling the severed head back to him with a web.

Looking at the gaping hole its head left, the spider was obviously animatronic. You'd have to have a serious talk with Addie's mom about doing background checks before hiring people. You let out a huff.

Clearly, Spider-man's senses were more keen than you realized. He looked up to find you still standing by the railing. Using a web, he launched himself up to stand next to you.

"So, a spider just saved you from a spider," he started, "pretty meta, huh?" You gave him a courteous nod, not feeling up to joking as you looked down at the robot spider carcass.

Spider-man grabbed your shoulder, lightly turning you away from the sight. "Are you sure you're alright, miss?"

"Not quite," you shook your head.

"You weren't hurt, were you?" He took a hurried step toward you, looking you over.

"Yesterday, I was dumped. Today I got chased by a giant man-eating spider. Does it ever get better?" You asked, tears welling in your eyes.

Spider-man couldn't help but let out a little snort. Your eyes widened at his reaction. You scoffed and slapped his chest.

"Are you laughing at me?" You asked wetly.

He put his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, I'm sorry, really." You shook your head at him.

"No, you're not! This is just like the time a raccoon got in my basement," you complained, tears streaming down your face.

Spider-man had to hide his continued laughter.

"No one believed me! I had to shoo it out with a broom all by myself," you said tearily, glaring at him. The masked man was practically bent over, trying to hold his laughter. Unfortunately for you, his laughter was highly contagious. It wasn't long before you were chuckling a bit too.

He pulled himself together, "This was much worse than a raccoon. You have every right to be upset."

"Thanks," you nodded, wiping your face.

"Want me to swing you home?" He asked.

As tempting as it sounded, you weren't sure about the state of the museum. Or your job. "They're usually pretty strict about hours here."

Although you couldn't see his face, you knew Spider-man was giving you a look. "I think it's safe to say the museum is closed for the day."

"Still-"

"What would you even do? Flush the bug down the toilet?"

"That's what I do at home," you shrugged.

He shook his head at you good-naturedly, "Come on, we can stop for muffins on the way." That got you up.

Spider-man spent the following hour making you feel better post-animatronic spider attack. When he finally left you on the stoop of your apartment building, you realized you'd answered your own question. It did get better.

Too bad your stupid, loser ex-boyfriend, Peter Parker, wasn't around to see it.

[tokusaatsus]

—birthdays spent with them!

warnings: none

🪄 a. tsumugi!

tsumugi awakens you with a kiss on the cheek and a mug of your favourite pick-me-up beverage!

he’s usually very busy, but he takes the necessary time off to spend his beautiful partner’s birthday with them!

takes you to a quaint café for breakfast and pays for your meal—all while discreetly (or maybe not so much? he's very free with his affection, especially when it comes to you!) holding your hand under the table.

he tries to plan outings he feels you’d enjoy. he considers all your likes and dislikes, which is sweet of him. he also worries about anything that might cause you undue sadness; will it rain today? if so, he should plan an outing indoors... oh! but if the forecast insists on sun all day long, a walk together in the gardens would be rather nice...

he also tries to bake you a birthday cake, enlisting the help of both natsume and sora to prevent any unexpected bouts of bad luck. it's two tiers, your favourite flavour, and decorated with fondant birds and sprinkles in the shape of diamonds as a nod to his title as the "magician of your heart"~!

gifts you knitted items he made himself, so full of love—and fashionable too! scarves, gloves, and of course, a beanie with cat ears!

takes you out for a lovely candlelit dinner to top it all off, gifts you a rose, and kisses you goodnight, praying fervently this birthday was a success all the while.

🐰 n. nazuna!

nazuna starts your day by making you breakfast in bed. in the ultimate test of his skill as a cook, he prepares all your favourites—fruits cut into cutesy shapes, jars of condiments on the side, and a mug of a steaming hot drink.

then, he gifts you with a morning kiss. happy birthday, love! punctuated with a chaste peck on your lips.

he’s prepared to do whatever you want today! want to go somewhere nice? he’ll use his privileges as an idol to find the nicest things for you. tickets to an amusement park, a table at the fanciest restaurant around; you name it and he'll get it! or maybe you just want to chill and watch a movie at home? he’s cool with that too! just a giant tub of popcorn is shared between you two, tall cups of your favourite drinks and a blanket to cuddle under.

his gift is literally perfect, showcasing his talent as a boyfriend.

like, remember that thing you were talking about a while back? no? well, he does. he goes above and beyond—someone stop him from overspending, please!

and of course, the other ra*bits are there to wish you a happy birthday during lunch, as well as to regale you with tales of nii-chan’s panic-driven madness as he tried to prepare for every eventuality.

but it's for you, so it has to be perfect!

to end it, he takes you out for quiet picnic under the stars, where he kisses you softly, gifts you a promise ring, and asks you to wait with him until he can get you a real one.

© tokusaatsus 2023

wc. 519 words

reze txt. happy belated birthday to my beloved ate @nazukisser and my friend @actualmomotaro !! for your gift you get me, dragging myself out of my month-long hiatus to do this! since it's been a while, i thought i'd also try out a new layout? thoughts, opinions, etc? i'll try to be more active on here now, and i have a little piece i've been working on that i hope to post soon! so... enjoy <3

taglist. (fill out the form or send an ask to be added!) @prpne @gabirii​ @kazemiya​ @engurishu​ @kkomaism​ @asbestieos​ @mikctp​ @lilikags @lolthia @unwantedsleep @hasumilvr​ @crooked-corvid​ @pr3tty-jennie​ @narumika​ @birthday-of-music @natsuphoria

[leviathanlazarus]

Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part I

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~5000

Warnings: slash & smut & vampirism [slight body worshiping; oral sex; rimming; fingering; anal sex; slight non-con; blood] 18+ only!

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!! I've never written any vampire fan fiction before so I really hope you enjoy. Poor Danny. I hadn't fully intended to make this into a series but it kept flowing, so be on the look out for future chapters ;)

You can also read on AO3 and wattpad

---

Danny knew that even if they weren’t trapped in a crowded nightclub together, he still would have been able to smell that pretty thing from a mile away. The stranger was intoxicating, giving off a strong aroma of ocean salt, summer greenery and sage mixed with the natural sweat that was even more mouth-watering than the rest. There was alcohol in that sweat too, Danny could tell, and lots of it, and then the overwhelming allure from the smell of his blood, iron-rich and strong, coursing through those veins. It was a lot to take in even from afar; it made all of his senses tingle with anticipation. 

Danny was still sober, slowly sipping on his drink while he’d been scouting, observing. He hadn’t expected to find anyone of interest, actually, so the fact that someone so beautiful and so delicious smelling had appeared before him was the best Halloween treat he could think of. This young man was too tempting to take his eyes away from even for a second. He’d have to do something about this.

Sam, waiting at the bar for another drink to hopefully cure his petulant woes, knew that if Josh and Jake hadn’t dragged him out to this Halloween club night he’d be having more fun smoking a bong and watching horror movies at home. He wasn’t in the mood to dance with strangers he couldn’t even clearly see. Nearly everyone had taken the costume memo seriously and he found himself surrounded by various pop culture icons, monsters, animals and professionals gone sexy or just gone really weird. Feeling defiant, he’d neglected to show up in any sort of costume no matter how much his brothers begged him to do otherwise. 

At least it was Josh’s tab that was open so Sam didn’t have to pay for his own subpar time. When his next drink finally appeared before him, he slunk back against the counter to take in the too-loud, too-obnoxious thumping beat and the sea of people before him. 

Danny was watching all of it from his dark corner at the far end of the bar. He watched how that gorgeous young man stirred the ice around in his drink before taking a sip; the points of his cupid’s bow rising as his lips parted to take a sip; the slight sheen of sweat on his face from the heat and humidity caused by everyone else being cramped in together. When his target stepped forward and to the side, beginning to weave through the crowd, Danny followed, curious, wanting and hungry. 

Thank god for the small but mostly empty patio out back. Sam breathed in the cleaner, cooler air and reached into his jacket for the little cardboard pack that contained three cigarettes and one hefty joint, opting for the joint. As he was lighting it, inhaling and looking from the cracked concrete to the string lights shaped like little white ghosts, the back door opened again. 

Well. Sam’s eyebrows rose on their own accord while he looked his new patio buddy over–at least he was in good, hot company. And this guy wasn’t in a costume either, just in jeans and a black tee, a well-loved suede jacket over top. That allowed for an instant connection in Sam’s mind, so he extended the joint out and asked, “Want a hit?”

He was even more enticing close up and under some light, Danny thought, looking Sam over just as Sam was doing the same to him. “Sure. Thanks,” Danny said, taking the joint and making a point to not show how much the slight brush of Sam’s fingers affected him. Not even the scent of weed could overpower the scent that emanated off him either, Danny noted, and as he took a puff, he could taste the drink that was on those soft pink lips.

“No costume,” Sam observed out loud, leaning back against the wooden fence surrounding the patio. Wow, he’d hit the jackpot even if this ended up just being an opportunity for eye candy. Whoever this guy was, he was a stunner–those strong, dark features drew Sam right in, especially the long, thick rivers of dark curls laced with bronze and gold. And when the guy looked right at him, Sam could clearly see the long, feathery black lashes that fluttered above complex, glittering irises. 

Sam almost never felt ordinary, but he did a little bit standing there next to the sexy, mysterious stranger. But then when his new friend smiled in response at Sam’s observation, he could see extra-sharp canines in that mouth. “Oh wait,” he said with a laugh. “A vampire?”

Danny hadn’t actually intended Sam to notice his teeth, as stupid as that may have been. He’d been relying on the dim lighting and this guy’s own inebriation to maintain his stealth. “Kind of?” he offered, handing the joint back. Well, he was in it now, he thought, and pulled back his upper lip to show off one fang. Sam leaned in close to look, inspecting, and when Danny relaxed his mouth again he said, “All I got is the teeth. Forgot to complete the look, I guess.”

“Wow,” Sam said, still staring, eyes fixated on Danny’s mouth. “They look so real.” He took a hit and kept his eyes on him, fascination growing as the alcohol grew stronger in his blood and the weed made a little crawl into his brain. When he exhaled he asked, “You used glue or something?”

Danny chuckled. “Or something. Yeah.” He tilted his head, looking his fellow patio buddy up and down, innocent from an outside perspective but silently undressing Sam in his mind. He could see it so perfectly–the long, lean body spread out against his sheets, head thrown back to leave the tan, smooth throat exposed. When the joint was passed back to him, Danny asked, “You don’t like dressing up for Halloween?”

Sam snorted a little. “Not really. I feel too old for it.” 

Danny inspected Sam further from behind the curl of dense smoke in front of his face. “You’re never too old for Halloween. It’s fun.”

That made Sam laugh a little, the irony of another wet blanket telling him he was never too old to dress up and play games. “I guess not. I think I’d just rather be doing something else tonight,” he said, and he saw how Danny’s eyes zeroed in on him even harder somehow. Sam took the joint back, hit it hard, coughed into his elbow, then asked, “What’s your name anyway?”

“Danny.” 

“I’m Sam.” Sam passed the joint back for Danny to get the last hit while he nabbed his drink. He was feeling too warm for being underdressed in the cold air, suddenly flustered because his new friend was making no move to hint at an exit plan. He also wouldn’t take his eyes off Sam for a single second, not even when the three people behind them finished their cigarettes and all migrated to the back door. 

“So what would you rather be doing right now?” Danny asked, definitely not willing to leave that question in the past. It was a perfect opportunity if Sam were interested, and Danny was pretty sure that he was.

Sam slurped the rest of his drink into watery ice at the bottom of the glass. “I’m open to suggestions,” he said, setting it back down on the table next to him. “If you have anything in mind.”

-

The night was going better than Sam could have ever expected. He was half-naked in a king-sized bed with Danny on top of him, also shirtless and evidently just as eager, being worshiped, essentially. Sam couldn’t think of another word for what was happening. Danny was kissing him deeply, intentionally, while his hands roamed all over slowly and with the same intent, like he was searching and wanting to discover something and it was driving Sam wild. It wasn’t often he got to be such a pillow princess. 

Sam’s bare skin felt so good beneath Danny’s hands, as soft and as smooth as silk, all his to explore as he kissed him until he was moaning into Danny’s mouth. Danny wanted more. He broke away from Sam’s mouth to get his pants off, then his underwear, and Sam just let him do it. He spread his legs enough for Danny to slide between, which he did, purposefully pushing his denim-covered hips hard against Sam’s cock. A surprised but soft moan slipped from Sam’s lips and Danny kissed it away, being careful not to bite into the plush mouth that responded so beautifully to his own. Not yet, anyway.

Sam tried to wrap his arms around Danny but one was shoved up over his head; he gasped when Danny pressed his face right into his armpit, inhaling deeply. 

“God, you smell so fucking good,” Danny said roughly before taking another deep, long inhale, his nose brushing into Sam’s armpit hair. He liked the feeling of the wiry arm in his hand too, the muscles so plainly obvious beneath Sam’s tight skin, but it was the smell that was making the crazed need roar to life. 

Sam laughed, loud and bright. “Really?”

He was totally innocent, Danny knew, or as innocent as a 20-something boy could be. And Danny didn’t want to hurt him. He’d really try not to. But he knew it would be hard. “Yeah, you really do,” he said, carefully dragging the tips of his teeth across Sam’s chest to get to the other armpit. Sam wiggled beneath him, then Danny felt the weight of his freed arm across his back, bringing him in even closer. “No cologne,” Danny went on, giving Sam another sniff. “No deodorant. I can smell all of you.” When Sam sighed in response and Danny felt his cock stiffen even more against the crotch of his jeans, he made a daring lick through Sam’s armpit with his whole tongue. 

“Whoa!” Sam exclaimed with an involuntary, but still earnest, giggle. He’d never had anyone do that; this Danny guy was a little freaky and Sam was loving it. He loved it even more when Danny licked from his armpit to his chest, kissing his sternum, licking again to get to his nipple. With both arms free, Sam sunk his fingers into Danny’s hair in encouragement; Danny sucked and kissed for a moment longer, then he lifted himself up and Sam watched, enthralled, as he stripped down to nothing as well. 

Stripping while searching his dresser for condoms and lube, Danny was still trying to figure out how to do this without hurting Sam too badly. He was trying to figure out how to do it without even revealing what “it” was. He was also trying to do it while doing everything else because, no matter how abnormal he was, he still wanted very normal things. He wanted to kiss and touch and have sex like a normal person, and Sam clearly wanted that too. Maybe Danny could go even further, try not to do it for a night, just enjoy this experience and save his hunger for something–or someone–else.

“I really lucked out running into you tonight,” Sam said, eyeing Danny blatantly, dick twitching seemingly in response to seeing Danny’s own. 

Danny’s knees pressed against the bed again, inching forward to get between Sam’s legs once more. “Tell me about it,” he said, running his hands down Sam’s thighs, pushing them back and sinking down, chest pressed against the mattress. “You’re so fucking sexy.” 

“Did you take your teeth out?” Sam asked, abruptly remembering that those little plastic fangs probably wouldn’t be fun to accidentally swallow.

Danny chuckled, glancing up. “What?”

“Your little fangs.”

“Oh.” Danny ducked back down, hiding his face, hands squeezing the soft, plush flesh of Sam’s inner thighs. “Yeah, I took ‘em out earlier. Don’t you worry.” He pressed a single kiss to that soft skin before reaching up, taking Sam’s dick in his hand while his tongue moved between Sam’s cheeks. Circling his rim while he sank his fingers into Sam’s thighs, Danny tried to pour all of his efforts into pleasing his new, fun, hot sexual partner instead of scarring him for life, literally. 

“Oh, I’m not worried about anything,” Sam told him, reaching up, stretching his arms to the headboard. Getting laid had never been easier and Danny certainly had a lot to offer. He reached down to jerk himself off while Danny ate him out, listening to the muffled moans of effort and arousal that were matching Sam’s own. He closed his eyes, so grateful now that his brothers had talked him into going out. 

Danny realized he was gripping Sam so hard it must have hurt, but Sam was sighing with contentment and stroking himself, his body moving like gentle waves with everything Danny did. When both of Sam’s hands found the top of Danny’s head, he licked all the way up to the tip of his cock, feeling his belly tremble all the while. “You taste good, too.” He wrapped his hand around Sam’s dick as he moved up further, his lips creating a trail up his torso. Danny looked into those soft, inviting eyes and said, his heart hammering with suppressed desperation, “I wanna taste more of you.” 

“Just like a real vampire,” Sam quipped, holding Danny’s face in his hands so he could trace those lips with his thumb. “Maybe you actually should’ve kept the teeth in.”

Obviously a joke. But a joke Danny didn’t know how to respond to. Should he tell Sam? It had never worked before, but Sam was still drunk enough, possibly still a little stoned, and seemed open-minded enough to potentially believe him. No, there was no way, Danny decided. He tried to wash away his urges by focusing on his own body, how it was pressed against Sam’s, how their erections were rubbing against one another’s, how his skin was all warm, so alive, thanks to Sam clinging to him, beckoning for more. 

Danny sat back, resting his hands on Sam’s chest. Maybe he could get a taste of the taste he wanted so badly, so to speak. He believed in himself. He could do this. “Well, honestly, Sam–I do like to bite,” he said, carefully watching that angelic face. Danny’s tension drifted away a bit when Sam smiled, looking absolutely delighted at the confession. “Kind of a lot. Would you be into that?”

There was just something about this guy, Sam thought. Danny was sweet and sexy, alluring without even really trying to be. Smoking a bong alone at home and watching a movie didn’t compare at all to what he’d actually gotten into for the night. He grabbed the lube from next to Danny’s shin and tossed it over. “I feel like you could do just about anything you want to me.”

Sam had no idea how dangerous those words were. Danny took a deep breath and felt his hands trembling as he popped the cap of the lube open; he hoped Sam didn’t notice. “How do you wanna do this?”

“Just like this,” Sam said, guiding Danny’s wet fingers between his legs. “I wanna look at you. You’re so fucking hot.” 

“You are too,” Danny told him, pushing one of Sam’s legs back as he slid two fingers inside. He was growing restless, all the pent up urges becoming stronger, and as much as he wanted to be slow and gentle, his patience was dwindling. But Sam responded positively, eyelashes fluttering and lips parting while his body relaxed and took Danny right in. Danny took Sam’s cock in his free hand. “I wish I’d met you a long time ago.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked, extending his arms out, trying to grab whatever he could, which ended up being some strands of Danny’s hair. “Well, there’s no time like the present, man. Happy fucking Halloween.”

Danny chuckled. “The night when all the freaks come out.”

Sam gave a tug to one strand of hair. “I met the right freak.”

The more gentle Danny persisted with getting Sam ready, the louder Sam became and he began to outright beg for more. Danny felt like his entire body was just a bundle of too-tight nerves when he rolled the condom over himself and shifted on the bed, bringing his hips closer and closer. 

Sam quickly looped his arms around Danny once he got the chance, pulling him in. “Come on, Danny–fuck me already.” When Danny shoved forward, Sam gasped sharply and clawed at his shoulders–he was getting what he wanted, but sometimes he didn’t realize what exactly that was. This was one of those times. 

“Shit, are you okay?” Danny asked, still so tightly wound he was worried that once he began, it would truly be too much. 

“I’m good, yeah, I’m good,” Sam assured him. He drew Danny closer, holding him tight, and kissed him to emphasize that statement.  Yes, it hurt, but it felt good, too. It felt strangely right despite Danny being a stranger; Sam wasn’t one to fantasize much, but with Danny enveloping him in heat and pleasure, he could imagine doing this over and over with him. When Danny kissed from his lips to his jaw down to his neck, Sam turned his head to the side. “You said you wanted to bite,” he reminded him through panting breaths as Danny’s pace sped up just a bit, making the burn even deeper. 

Oh god, Danny did want that. Sam’s neck was so tempting–he could see one long vein running down, trembling slightly as he strained and kept breathing raggedly. Danny could smell the blood inside and could imagine the taste, so rich and thick it would be in his mouth. 

“I do want to,” Danny said, barely more than a whisper. He wasn’t even really cognizant of how he was fucking Sam anymore, too distracted by this offering. He lowered his mouth to Sam’s neck, asking the question with his lips pressed against that warm skin: “You really don’t mind? Even if I give you a hickey?”

Sam wrapped one leg around Danny’s hips. “Do your worst.”

Danny took a deep breath, his hand tightening around Sam’s shoulder while his hips slowed below. It was a test–maybe he could pass it. He’d have to try. So he started gentle, just kissing and inhaling Sam’s scent, creating a trail from just beneath his ear down to his collarbone; Sam moaned quietly in response, one hand stretching down to grab Danny’s ass in encouragement. So he kept going, introducing his tongue to lick, his lips to press harder, and when Sam arched up, rubbing his cock against Danny’s stomach, he carefully pressed the tips of his teeth against his neck. 

With deep, dark, sinking shame, Danny failed. As the first note of a scream came from Sam’s throat, he clapped his hand over his mouth while his canines sank deep into his neck. It was awful, Danny knew, for Sam to hear the pop of his own skin being punctured and feel the blood begin to flow. It was awful for Danny to keep him pinned there, his own weight and muscle outdoing Sam’s own, with his hips pressed down tightly and his shoulders unrelenting no matter how much Sam tried to push and punch him off. But the feel of the warm blood in his mouth and the taste on his tongue was really like a drug, something evil and uncontrollable. When Sam got a hard smack across his face, Danny grabbed both of those wrists and pinned them overhead, leaving Sam completely defenseless. 

There wasn’t much room for pondering as Sam hopelessly tried to fight Danny off, but he had one thought when time seemed to slow to a complete still: it just couldn’t be real. Vampires didn’t really exist. This was just a deranged psychopath biting him, drinking his blood because he was a sicko, not some spooky mythological creature. But when Danny pulled back, panting, blood on his lips and chin, Sam caught the glimmer of those very real and very sharp teeth stained red and shiny. He whimpered beneath Danny’s palm, fear now making him freeze instead of fight, and couldn’t do anything but stare at that beautiful face that had betrayed him. He was sure he was going to die. 

“I’m sorry,” Danny said. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this one, but he had to try and at least stop it while he still could. His body was trembling hard as he lowered himself again, but instead of latching onto Sam’s neck again, he pressed a kiss to the obscene little wounds, then licked long and slow over the bite. 

Sam’s breathing slowed. He was confused now in this bizarre lull Danny was eliciting; he didn’t feel the urge to fight back anymore, just to lie there and drift off. But no, that was insane, he reminded himself, and wiggled beneath Danny as he tried to bite his palm. 

“Don’t scream,” Danny pleaded, taking his hand away from Sam’s mouth. Thankfully, Sam didn’t, just looked up at him with bewildered, scared eyes. His cheeks were still red though–Danny hadn’t gone too far. 

“What the fuck,” Sam said, voice hoarse. He should use all the strength he had left to kick Danny off himself. He should flee. He should tell someone–but who would believe him? 

“You’re okay,” Danny said. He wanted to cry. He wanted to disappear. He stroked Sam’s hair, hoping whatever happened now would be enough for him to be forgiven for the first time. It would mean the most, he knew, because it wasn’t just Sam’s looks and blood that had called out to him. There was something else there, something Danny wanted to protect rather than destroy. He licked the blood away from his teeth and wiped his mouth before he offered another futile, “I’m sorry, Sam.”

With Danny’s grip loosened, Sam flailed his wrists free and brought his fingers to his neck. “You didn’t kill me,” he said, and was shocked to find that there was nothing even there beneath his own touch. It was like it hadn’t even happened. 

“I didn’t want to,” Danny assured him. He was still hard inside Sam. It was so obscene to be that way, to want more after all this, and he braced himself for Sam to whip into action. “I don’t want to.”

Sam’s mind was reeling. Monsters weren’t real, they were only real in books and movies, but Danny was very, very real. He reached out to touch him, to make sure of that, and found that Danny’s skin felt even warmer than before. Knowing his own blood had aided in that made Sam feel nauseous for a second, but the downcast, sad look of apology on Danny’s face made that feeling disappear. 

“I’m confused,” was all Sam could say, flopping his arms back on the bed. 

“I know.” With Sam seeming to give into him again, Danny moved in, hair hanging over both of their faces. “Can I make it better somehow?” With a daring, shaking hand, he reached down and circled his fingers around Sam’s cock. Of course he wasn’t hard anymore, but maybe Danny could help him get there again. Maybe, for whatever fucked up reason, the night could still end well.

Sam whined, grabbing Danny’s shoulders not in protest but in want. Nonsensical, stupid, crazy want. “Monsters aren’t supposed to be real,” he said, looking at those lips that were unnaturally red. 

“I don’t wanna be a monster,” Danny told him, recognizing Sam’s gaze; he licked his lips before testing the waters further, bringing his face closer until their noses were almost touching. The most fantastical magic came in the form of Sam pulling him into a hug and bringing him down to kiss, like none of it had happened at all. Danny sighed into it, relief rushing through his heart, and started to stroke Sam back to life. 

Sam moaned, kissing Danny back deeply, his heart speeding up with that confusion and fear when he tasted his own blood on those dangerous lips. He held the sides of Danny’s face and made him look into his eyes: “What’d you do to me?” he asked, but Danny only sped up his movements, thrusting harder inside him, stroking him faster. 

“Something I didn’t wanna do,” Danny said, biting his lip so hard in his sorrow that he made himself bleed. 

“I asked you to,” Sam said, realizing his biggest mistake. He wiped the trickle of blood away from Danny’s chin with his finger before bringing it to his own mouth, tasting what was both of them. 

“Oh, fuck,” Danny huffed out, humping into Sam wildly, sure that he was leaving bruises on his thighs but past the point of slowing down for real. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Sam.” He was losing it in not only the feeling of Sam’s body around him but in the unfathomable recognition that he was being accepted. He might have been a monster, a beast, but he found someone who cared enough to stay anyway despite having every right to try and kill him.

Sam pulled Danny’s hair hard, locking their mouths together while Danny fucked into him and jerked him off. He didn’t want to think anymore. He wanted to taste the iron on Danny’s tongue, feel the hard weight on top of him, revel in the strange, twisted orgasm that was growing deep inside him, making his balls tighten, his back arch, his heart pound, his throat quiver. 

“Come for me,” Danny begged against Sam’s mouth, further interrupting their kisses by bringing his hand up and spitting pink saliva into it. He reached back down and Sam gasped, eyes closed tight, lips parted as he moaned and squeaked. “Come for me, Sam, please, I need you to.” 

Sam needed that, too. He tucked his face into Danny’s neck, his final moan of release sounding like a wounded animal, which he knew he wasn’t far from being. Danny followed with a deep groan and series of pants in Sam’s ear, both of them unraveled and fucked up beyond belief. 

“I can’t believe you did,” Danny said after a moment. He collapsed completely on top of Sam, feeling boneless and helpless. Thankfully, Sam didn’t seem to mind and that too was more than Danny knew he deserved. When he got up to pull out, he was able to see the damage he’d done–Sam’s thighs were indeed already bruised, in addition to his wrists having nasty blue and purple rings around them. But the worst part was his neck–while there was no bite mark, there was still carnage there in the form of a nasty, bright red and violet patch where Danny had, in fact, bitten him. A collection of broken blood vessels that made his heart sink.

Sam saw that look. He touched the spot Danny was staring at and it felt too hot and too sore, suddenly painful. “It’s bad?” 

Danny nodded. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to–I really tried not to.”

Sam sat up, finally getting the chance to stretch his muscles a bit. He should have been mad, he knew, or really, he should have been traumatized. But there was genuine softness and kindness in Danny’s eyes, not just self-pity. And had he not been a blood-sucking monster, Sam knew he would have really liked him. Actually, he still really liked him, as fucked up as that was.

“It’s not that bad,” Sam said once he was standing in front of Danny’s dresser mirror. Funny, he thought, considering as far as he knew, vampires didn’t have reflections. But there Danny was, right behind him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder while Sam inspected himself. “I can’t even see teeth marks.”

“I hurt you,” Danny said, slipping away to grab his clothes. If Hell really did exist, he thought as he pulled his boxers back on, he was definitely going there. 

“Not enough to drive me away,” Sam said with a small laugh, still able to find humor in the absurdity. He felt more fascinated by Danny now. He’d been shown that the entire world was truly full of mystery. And monsters. But some of those monsters were really, really hot. 

“You’re not afraid?” Danny asked, looking up at him when Sam turned to face him, still naked and still showing Danny all the places he really had inflicted pain, even if Sam was weirdly accepting of it. 

“Not really. I mean, shit, I sure was when you bit me,” Sam said with another laugh, touching the bruise on his neck again. “Now I’m more afraid of all the other shit I don’t know. If you’re real–if all vampires are real–what else is real?”

Danny sighed, eyes dropping to the floor. “I don’t know.”

Sam hummed. “Do I taste good?”

Danny looked up; Sam was genuinely curious. “Yeah, you taste so fucking good,” he had to admit, his tongue gliding over his teeth for one final taste. “Best I ever had.” 

Sam smiled. He sat down next to Danny, feeling exhaustion crash over him like a tidal wave. “That’s the weirdest and best compliment I’ve ever gotten, I think,” he said, crawling up the bed to get under the covers. He just needed sleep. He needed to sleep and he needed that sleep to happen with a vampire. With Danny. He probably needed therapy, too.

Dumbfounded, Danny just watched as Sam cuddled himself underneath the blankets and closed his eyes. He wished he could sleep too, but he couldn’t, though that didn’t stop Danny from getting in next to Sam and holding all night.

---

Tagging: @sparrowofrhiannon @bizzielisteningtogreta @clairesjointshurt @lightsofthe-living-gvf @starbuggie @mackalah

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics you can DM me or go here :)

[soaps-mohawk]

hiii!!!! im back girliee :) sorry i fell of the face of the earth for a little bit. no pressure to answer this fast its not super important lol

the last few chapters have been so delectable!!! love getting kyle action but also ghoap/gazsoap/ghostgaz was YUM!!!! 🤤🤤 I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to get back to the camera/Simon's bond conflicts too tho lol 😅

haven't been able to play much COD recently due to being busy :( (+ I've been playing The Last Of Us and I may be a bit obsessed with Joel Miller.....I really need to stop playing multiple video games at once lol) (also actively playing Genshin Impact)

I HAVE FUN HEADCANNONS

idk where this idea came from but I have a headcannon that the TV in the rec room is just lowkey the worst. Old, slow, and the base is out in the middle of nowhere so it limits a lot of their TV options.

Don't have streaming because it requires a payment/subscription and something about not being able to hook it up to an account/being on a military base/not safe to have clues to their money or personal lives (I know nothing about the military forgive me). They do have cable but because their base is in the middle of buttfuck nowhere they get only the strangest, most low-production channels out there.

I saw a youtube video a while ago about a British reality TV show where a female contestant is shown a bunch of dicks, nothing else, and she has to decide who she'd want to go out with based on that alone 😂😂 it was completely uncensored, so dicks would just be fully hanging out there. that's the type of shit that they get on the cable in the rec room LMFAO

feel like the only option for personalized TV/movies is the old DVD player hooked up to the TV (that was there when they moved into the place 😭) so the boys constantly have a collection of DVDs they're always rewatching, or they buy new ones/ship them in when there's something new they want to watch

I'm the type of person who will watch bad movies or reality TV shows just so I can giggle at them, so I FULLY believe that the pack would find some shitty knock-off reality TV show and lock in to watch the new episode every week together

if the boys and/or 'mega ever want to watch something popular/that would usually be on streaming they just have to get it off some backstreet website or something like that (they have burner laptops specifically for this purpose)

hope you're having a good day/night/afternoon and that you have a good week as well :) stay safe, slept, and hydrated!!!<3

— 🌘 !

Aww no need to apologize!! Things happen, people get busy. I'll always be here, hanging out (well, not quite as often right now but i'll see stuff eventually!!)

Aww thank you, thank you I'm glad you enjoyed them!!! They have been rather delicious, but don't worry, we will be getting back into the fluff and ANGST very quickly. I've been dragging the plot out more than I wanted to so now I'm rectifying that lmao.

I own The Last Of Us (it came with my PS4 when I bought it four years ago) but I still haven't played it because I suck at playing games lol. I either play all the way through at once or I play for an hour and then turn it off and don't touch it for months lol. Same even with the Sims. I go through cycles of playing for hours everyday and then not touching it for weeks and weeks.

No but like that idea would be so true lmaoo. Just an old fuzzy TV that has no streaming capabilities. They have a very vast collection of DVDs (organized by Simon of course) which is how they keep themselves sane lmao. They get like ten channels and flip between sports and daytime TV and game shows 😂 it's a routine now, sitting and watching some random game show at night.

Hey, they break a lot of laws already, what's the shame in playing pirates? 😉

[agirlandherquill]

Written In Smoke - The Letter By The Lake

As you can probably tell, a large part of this letter comes to you from the side of a lake, well, a very tiny one - I'm not good at naming bodies of water but it's close enough, here's a photo for you dear reader,

Anywho, moving on to the rest of this letter!

A Glimpse Through Time - little bits about me and what I’ve been up to this week

So, at the start of this week I thought I'd take a walk to what's known as the pocket park, essentially a little bit of forest with paths to walk around, and in the heart of it is the spot pictured above - it's one of my favourite places to read, incredibly quiet (excluding the sheep, and baby lambs, more of that later) and very beautiful at the height of summer - Given the fact that the majority of this week had very high temperatures I thought what better way to spend my time than sit out here on a lovely little bench and read? And so I did!

I felt like diving back in to a series I had only read during lockdown and it felt like a fever-dream, and it was so worth getting back in to because I adore this series and the author's writing - the picture on the left is my view under a ginormous tree because it was hot, very, very hot, and it was the best place for shade, so for a couple hours I sat in the woods, on a fallen log, and read my way through the worst of a hot day

Another few snaps of my little walk - this here's the lane leading to said pocket park, and pivoting just so slightly to the left is the sky, it was very, very pretty and of course photo-worthy

Do you ever feel as though you're sitting in a fairy-tale? Well, maybe it's the woods, the gorgeous albeit exhausting weather, but this week at least it's certainly felt as though it's true - just take a look at the water in the (not-quite) lake

Doesn't quite seem real does it?

Now, what else have I been up to this week?

Heatwave/Summer arrival demanded a drink of heaven, aka Strawberries and Cream Frappe from Costa, a little trip to Waterstones where I was lucky enough to nab the only copy of Lightlark they had (after searching for weeks), and I bought my first ever film camera! Perfect for little trips and things over the summer, so I'm super excited!

Books - As mentioned previously, I started reading Red Queen, I'm about 90 pages in, Wheel of Time I unfortunately wasn't able to read much of this week, but I'll make up for it next week! I'm also starting The Love Hypothesis which I've been excited about for years, I caved and finally bought it on kindle, so I've got that to look forward to over this weekend

Shows/Movies - I started watching American Horror Story this week, I'm 10 episodes in and I'm in awe, it's so much more than I expected and so, so good; I watched Solo and A New Hope this week as part of my Star Wars bet with a friend, I'm not a Star Wars newbie by any means but seeing them for the first time in years brings a whole new perspective, and they're even better than I remember, so I'm looking forward to watching the others, I finished Dexter Season 4 and I'm hoping to start Season 5 very, very soon - tonight hopefully, if time and sleep is on my side

Music - Being outdoors a lot this week hasn't left me with much time for listening to music, but here's a few of the tracks I've had on this week: Cornerstone by Arctic Monkeys (one of my favourites of theirs), One Day from POTC World's End (insta reels dragged me in, I'm in love, even though I'm a very big Pirates of The Caribbean fan to begin with), Blood // Water by Grandson (years after years of stumbling across this song again, and it's just as good every time)

To end this section I thought I'd include a little snap of the sheep that kept me company in the neighbouring field to the pocket park,

Many lambs, many sheep, the joys of the countryside

And since I'm feeling even more in the mood to write, I thought I'd slip in a couple of facts about myself, since this is the Glimpse Through Time section after all,

I'm a countryside girlie, so to speak - well I've lived in a lovely village in England since I was Two Years Old, and it's surrounded by fields - which means every year I get the joys of seeing the baby lambs, cows, and of course older sheep - it might be a little out of the way from the rest of civilisation, but I like it, it's my permanent escape I suppose

I love to draw, and paint (it's been a couple years but hopefully this summer I can get back to it)

I once wrote fanfic - only one, but christ it was shocking (and by that I mean the fact people liked it, last time I checked and it's about four maybe five years old now, it had 95k views on Wattpad, now that is a freaky number), and for any of you curious readers, it was a TMR/Teen Wolf fandom fanfic, so, take from that what you will - I have long since abandoned Wattpad, I avoid it like the plague, not that there's anything wrong with it, it's just not my thing I suppose, so that's an interesting little fact about me!

As usual this letter's been composed over a few days, and as it's the end of the week the cold's slowly creeping in, the wind whispers a little louder beneath the clouds, but it's still lovely, and just perfect weather for writing, which leads me on to the next part of this letter!

Spills From The Ink-Pot - writing, writing, and more writing

Friday and Saturday prove more often than most to be my most productive writing days of the week, I thought I'd take the time to give you dear readers a little tour of my writing process (if there is such a thing), and to kick off the tour let me show you exactly what I see when I open Scrivener!

p.s also a little sneak peek into my desktop (if that's applicable for a laptop, I'm not too sure)

The first thing you'll probably notice is the blue colour scheme, now this changes every few months when I decide to switch things up - but usually I write in page view, so this is what I see - sometimes my Scrivener themes have actual backgrounds to them, but I prefer to just see the words when I need to really, really get in the zone

Secondly, the split screen - I work from the left, and consult the same page on my right, because I'm in the edits stage so I need to reference my original draft and re-write bits and bobs as and when I decide - that's why the text is predominantly in red, because that's my editing colour (handy scrivener feature, I do love this program) and the original text is in white - I find it easier for my eyes and it's just aesthetically pleasing to me, not that I mind black and white I just love having the freedom to customise my workspace!

Next stop on the tour is another program that I rely on very, very heavily - Trello

I use Trello to plot, come up with writing snippets to save until later and slip them in like pieces of a puzzle when I find the right place for them in the story

Since the board for Ruin's Reprisal is incredibly old and less used now that I'm in edits, it's in a state of chaos but it's still nice to see old ideas, unused snippets and the like as I'm going through my draft again - so, here it is,

On each board, you can make lists, and I've used them for each Part of the novel so to speak, among other random little things, and in each list you add cards - I've written many, many a scene in the cards, often in the form of bullet points as you can tell by the number of "checklists" on each card, and I check them off if they're in the story; it's super helpful to have some sort of order for the chaos that is my thoughts, and when inspiration strikes at any time I just jot down the line on a card for later - It's super helpful And whenever I come up with a WIP, I make a board (until I hit the free limit, then I just create lists in a designated board for random, not fully fleshed-out WIPS, so everything has a place in this chaos)

That's about it for the tour! I'd show you my playlists, but there's many, almost too many, just for a small section of this letter (perhaps I'll make that a future post, who knows?)

Here comes the exciting part - writing itself

I actually have something to show you this week dear reader, even if it's only a few hours of work, but I've compiled a little collection of some of my favourite lines, and here they are!

Edeva touched his arm before he could pull away, he went rigid, eyes watching her with a gaze as sharp as the blade his fingers were a hairsbreadth from touching - for a heartbeat, she thought he would pull it on her, but he remained still.  “What is it?” Her words had deserted her. Her breath burned in her lungs, not only from the ash, she pressed her fingers harder into his arm. His eyes darted from her eyes to her fingers, his lips pressed into a thin line. “What is it?” Fenley repeated, a hint of alarm growing in the storm of his eyes. Words came and washed her away, leaving her speaking breathless,“You’ve come a long way from the heartless man I met in the woods.” “I saved you, then. Was that heartless?” “You tried to make it seem that way.” Edeva drew back, guiltily noticing the marks her nails had left on his arm, she hadn’t realised her touch had been so fierce. Her hands settled in her lap but she continued to hold his stare. “There’s very little point living without a heart Fenley, then you might as well just give up.” The smirk he gave her then meant more than most. More than words.  “Now that, Edeva, is something I’ll never do.”

“On those nights,” Edeva asked, tentative, but encouraged by the freeness of their conversation so far, “What troubles you most?" Fenley flexed his fingers, studying the invisible markings where scars should have been, where he knew damage had been done, only to see a smooth plain of unmarred flesh. He could see the scars, in his mind, if he concentrated enough, just as he could see the moments that had caused him injury, the moments he had committed unspeakable things - his scars were etched in history if not flesh, and in a way, that immortality hurt him worse than any injury. “I am worse than any other monster, because I am real.”

“Then why are we stopping, here, of all places?” “Because,” Fenley nudged her good leg with his knee, “You’ve been limping for the past mile and I’m sick of seeing it. We’re taking some time to rest, the night stretches on and there’s plenty of it yet for what we need.” “I don’t want to rest.” She was firm, but even her voice faltered. Edeva leaned more heavily against the mass of trees than she intended to and Fenley raised his brows at her.  “Either you admit it or I’m carrying you to a reasonable perch away from whatever may be skulking around here.” “Where might that be?” “Right.” Fenley’s quiet sigh lowered her guard, making it more of a shock when he threw her over his shoulder and began to scale the mass of tree. She stayed quiet until he set her down on a branch that was strong enough to bear their weight, and smacked him on the head - albeit accidentally, his face was her target, but she was disoriented from being uprighted. Fenley grunted, rubbing his head. “I gave you your options, no need to give me a concussion.” “You took advantage of my weakened state!” She hissed, minding his words and restraining her voice, if not her temper.  “So you admit it, you’re not fit for this.” “I-No!”

And that's it for this week! The second letter of Written In Smoke is all typed up and heading your way - this week's been a good one, and I hope you've all had a lovely week too! I'll see you next week dear reader for another letter!

~ A Girl and Her Quill

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[azquine]

WAIT I'VE JUST HAD A HORRIBLE THOUGHT

(This is a midnight stream of thought, so I'm sorry if I got some details or quotes slightly off, but you should get the idea of what I am saying)

So Peirce's bequeathings in the hospital were all to do with torturing the recipient, right? (apart from Annie, his favourite) Each 'gift' having a front that seemed like something nice, or at the very least cathartic (Shirley's dvd)

Abed seemed to be another exception, but what if he wasn't? He wasn't as affected as the others, but that doesn't necessarily mean Peirce didn't try.

Peirce at the bare minimum knows Abed likes movies. Knows he likes recording things. So he asks Abed to record the events at the hospital. This matches the thread of his choices seeming on the surface to be nice. He's giving Abed an opportunity to do something he enjoys, placing a creative project onto his lap.

Abed thinks of himself as the outsider of the group, the observer. (he says as much after the chicken mafia ends). He also considers himself to pretty much not exist within the events in front of him once he is behind a camera ('I'm not in this scene'). Peirce, by getting Abed to point his camera at the rest of the group, ensures Abed isolates himself from them. Ensures that Abed's thoughts become true.

He cements this division from the rest by telling the camera (and therefore Abed) about his plan. Abed now cannot join the others in ignorance. He is in on it, the rest are not. Or to put it another way, they are a part of this event, and he is not.

Of course, there is nothing stopping Abed from putting down the camera and joining them as an active party. To tell the others what is going on so that everyone is in on it.

But he wouldn't. Abed wouldn't even consider breaking his personal code as a creative. He is, naturally, going to put the authenticity of the documentary over the 'right thing to do' as a friend (it isn't called friend business, it's show business'). He can only watch. If he does any more than that the entire situation is destroyed. The plot of the documentary, of the episode, vanishes.

The more chaos the situation devolves into, the more the incentive to keep quiet grows. The possibility that the others might be angry with Abed for knowing and staying silent. Of watching them rip themselves apart without a word. It helps that this gives Peirce the bonus that he might not have to face the flames completely alone. If Abed is the outsider, Peirce is the outcast. As much as he would vitriolically deny it, Peirce needs to attach himself to others far more than Abed, even if it is just to drag them down with him.

I think the reason that this isn't ever touched on in the episode is that Abed is used to his position as the lone watcher. It doesn't bother him as much, he has long become comfortable with it. He frames the world through his position as a viewer. Being able to do so from inside the room is a nice change. Being an outcast is different, I think that role would upset him, it's far closer to abandonment. Observing is far more intentional, a choice to step back.

Even in this line of thinking, I don't think Peirce would have considered his approach to Abed too far below the surface level. He is generally rather dismissive of him, so I doubt he'd care about 'teaching him a lesson' as much as he would for, say, Jeff.

He also probably doesn't know Abed's vulnerable spots like he knows the rest of the groups. He spends far more time either trying to impress them or tear them down, through which he learns more about them. Peirce may well have some sense for Abed's fear of abandonment, he was there to hear the letter about his mother's new family that made Abed shut down. (If he was REALLY trying to hurt Abed he could have used that, though that may have been more effort than he was willing to go to for Abed). Though Peirce is sometimes not the best at picking up on stuff, so he might have let the abandonment issues slip him by.

Peirce certainly doesn't know where Abed hurts the same way Troy would, or even Annie later on. Troy can rip Abed apart with a text far more effectively with a text than Peirce could with a gift.

In some way it's preferable to think that Abed was included in some twisted way to the bequeathings of Peirce Hawthorne than him just leaving Abed out of his death wishes twice.

It's funny, Peirce and Abed are a pair whose relationship with one another seems to actively get worse across the show. It starts with unintentional racism being met with nonchalance (I think that's the right word? Thinking of when Peirce asks if what he said to Abed was offensive and Abed says 'sure' and the script direction says 'with the tone of someone asked if they want water' or something like that).

Across the first few seasons they get to a point where I would almost call them friends. Little moments like a mention of Abed calling Peirce for help with a squirrel(I think? It's mentioned in the STD episode), or how Peirce defends Abed from Duncan near the end of the stop motion episode even though he has nothing to gain from it (perhaps it was solidarity, he had lost his own mother not long before), or the clip episode snippets. Those add up to them being more than acquaintances, even though there is nothing of real substance on camera. No friendship B plots. And then those little bits utterly disintegrate until they are barely acquaintances. In following seasons when Peirce calls Abed a terrorist or freak, or Abed says he hates Peirce for what he did to the US inspector spacetime, there is nothing to balance it. We can only take it at face value. And then it ends with a parting insult and an obligatory gift everyone else got, with no secondary personal gift. And then Troy's personal gift means he has to leave (Maybe Peirce did know how to properly wound Abed. He was jealous when Troy left to live with Abed, enough to give a mean housewarming gift)

But they hadn't reached that point when Peirce asked Abed to film at the hospital. It could be that Peirce still saw Abed as someone worth hurting then, as utterly fucked as that is (Peirce is NOT a good guy). Or he was trying to cause pain at both bequeathings. Or he spared no thought for Abed at all. They all seem possible. Turns out there are more ways to read all of this than I thought.

[s4intjust]

3, 17, 27, 32, 38

YAYY HIII HIIIII!!!!

3. 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

OKAY please dont laugh but soviet movies. like. im such a big fan. i dont know i just really enjoy them. бриллиантовая рука, иван васильевич меняет профессию, джентельмены удачи, невероятные приключения итальянцев в россии and such. i just really like them. i can rewatch them a billion times for sure. but also do musicals count. like you know... mlor...... one of those musicals ive been rewatching so so so many times for so many past years and im still not bored

17. name 3 things that make you happy

OOF um. um. god i WISH i could say my friends bc i love you all and i was so glad to meet you but i. have this stupid fucking thing going on. you know. and i dont think anything actually brought me real genuine happiness in the past um. at least two years ??? well maybe there was one or two times but i dont remember them at all. and neither seeing musicals/concerts live nor meetings with friends did anything to me so unfortunately i have no idea what to say here. games/hobbies/food/arts/music also dont really do anything but there are these weird hyperfixations that realease some specific chemicals in my brain that make me THINK im happy but actually they are just. tricking me into feeling like that. i know their tricks. tragic (i still love you very dearly by the way. its just my stupid brain)

27. any nicknames?

oh there are MANY, people LOVE coming up with nicknames for me. a TON of derivatives from my real name, a TON of derivatives from moss (my favorites being i think мошька and мшунчик), i have a friend who calls me drag queen-esque things and i absolutely LOVE it, people often king/queen me (love it), and there are also a lot of like. солнце and such. also do my own names??nicknames count?? like i love going by achroma/mike and like. yeah

and also i love calling other people by nicknames but im not very creative so i stuck to родной/радость моя/солнце моё/etc

32. how many tabs do you have open right now?

not that many actually! at least on my pc. i try to keep everything neat and clean :) 7 of them on pc and 33 on my phone lol

38. fave song at the moment?

this one is hard there are. TOO MANY. okay so theres this fucking guy i told you about and bc of him i've been really getting into new musicals and well, russian rock, and i think some my current faves are: спичка, предательство from икар the rock opera; ворон, израфель, антракт from ворон (nevermore the musical); там куда хотел попасть from шахматы; мой бог from todd the rock musical; and some russian rock things, really loved выход из роли (кукрыниксы)

AND ALSO le bien qui fait mal from mozart l'opera rock. like of course. of fucking course.