#assuming my brain keeps generating new ideas at this rate

[sunstormbudgie]

*sigh* I just had another new story idea. Unfortunately, it's a really good one.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Of Wolf and Man

Prompt: Werewolf | Word Count: 5533 | Rating: E | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | CW: Minor Injury, A Sprinkle of Good Boy Kink | Tags: Canon Divergence, S3 Happened, But No S4 Events, Different Meeting After High School, Werewolf Steve, Animal Lover Eddie, A Touch of Hurt/Comfort, But Mostly Fluff

Eddie hears the growl, and freezes mid-step. He was just headed out to Skull Rock to make a quick deal with a jock too scared to meet at his usual picnic table in the woods, and this is what he gets for his trouble? About to be eaten by a wild fucking animal over twenty bucks worth of weed? Great, just great. He isn't sure what direction the growl came from, it sounded all around him, all at once. Like it was somehow beside him, below him, and above him. He scans as far as his eyes can see, then finally looks up, and when he does, there's a big dog standing on a rock overhead.

"Easy there, buddy," Eddie says, because he's an animal guy. He's not one to turn any species away, as a general rule. His brain suddenly unhelpfully supplies: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species. Which isn't gonna help him survive a feral dog attack, but honestly, take that, Mr. Johnston? He did pay attention in biology class. Both times.

It doesn't matter, but what does matter, is that he can usually charm anything into being his friend for a few minutes. Racoons, opossums, the occasional armadillo. 

More cats than he'll ever be able to count.

Sometimes a stray dog, or two. 

And that's when he realizes this is not a dog. It's a wolf. And there definitely shouldn't be any wolves roaming around just outside of Hawkins. It has to be someone's pet that has gotten loose. Those are legal in Indiana. Or: And his wheels really start turning here, if this one somehow doesn't already belong to someone else, maybe he could wrangle it into being his own pet.

Now, that's an idea. Wayne would shit, but a pet wolf would really make him seem like a bigger, scarier freak around town. He's kind of missed the daily fear and detestation since he squeaked out of Ms. O'Donnell's class, and therefore, high school. Diploma clutched in his fist.

Either way. 

Dealing with a wolf is new territory. Very, very new. 

And a little more terrifying, his fantasy of keeping it as a badass pet notwithstanding. 

It's huge. Especially bathed in moonlight, looming overhead, where all Eddie can see is warm, golden eyes staring down at him, and a dark, pretty coat. The wolf is watching him, as if it's taking stock of Eddie's every move.

"Well, I'm gonna go my way, and you're gonna stay right there," Eddie says, holding his arm up, palm facing the big animal, and the wolf whines in a way that almost sounds like he's disagreeing petulantly with this command.

Eddie smiles, even if he's still a little terrified, "You don't want me to hang around. I'll cramp your style. Lay down." 

And the wolf starts to do just that. Big body folding down into itself. 

"That's a good boy. You're very pretty, you know?" Eddie asks. And it is a pretty animal. Lean muscle, wrapped in what he assumes is a heavy coat of soft fur. 

He'd like to pet him. 

That's how he'll die someday. Petting something he had no business touching. He's sure of it. 

And the wolf whimpers, laying down on the rock, resting his chin on its huge paws, still watching Eddie with those mesmerizing eyes. 

They almost glow out here in the moonlight. 

How fucking cool is that? An actual wolf. In the flesh, and not just written into a campaign. 

Eddie grins at him one more time, and then takes off in the direction he was headed in before he was interrupted by a huge fucking wolf.

Once he gets to Skull Rock, and sits down to wait, he hears the howl in the distance, and smiles. Hopefully the wolf doesn't have a pack hanging around that's less docile than he was.

He doesn't think about the wolf again, not much anyway, until the wolf shows up again, standing across the highway, right along the tree line, watching him. Eddie's putting three bucks in the van's gas tank, and it suddenly feels like he's been tracked here. Shit. Has he been tracked here? Does the wolf have his scent now? 

Eddie should ignore it, but he can't. He makes eye contact, and the wolf sits. Like he's waiting. Eddie goes in and pays, and when he comes out of the Fair Mart, he looks both ways, then jogs across the two lanes of worn asphalt.

The wolf is still there, sitting patiently, watching as Eddie struggles to unwrap the Slim Jim he bought for the animal for some stupid reason, not nearly scared enough that he's about to be mauled. 

Eddie isn't sure what to do now as he looks down at him. Does he throw it? Drop it? Hand feed him like he would a dog? 

"Hi. Me again. I probably wouldn't have seen you if it wasn't so bright out tonight," Eddie says, making one-sided small talk, nodding his head towards the big, full moon overhead.

And then Eddie holds out the meat stick, an offer.

The wolf makes eye contact, and then gently takes it from Eddie's fingers, like he's being careful and Eddie grins, "That's a good boy."

And the wolf looks right at him, tail lightly dancing around, as if he understood that. Maybe he just got the tone. Dogs are good at that, right? Maybe wolves are, too.

But it still unsettles Eddie, just a little. It's too human, and the fact that it's a full moon suddenly isn't lost on him. He gets the lore behind that. And it kickstarts his imagination. Thrusting it into overdrive. Was it a full moon last time? Eddie thinks maybe it was, as brightly lit as the woods had been, even late at night.

But, it can't be. That's absurd. He needs to just go. Accept this for what it was, just another experience in his long line of animal whispering.

He's got band practice to get to, anyway. They always expect he'll be late, but still. He should go.

"Okay, I gotta go," Eddie says, and then adds, "Stay out of the highway, it's dangerous." 

And he watches the wolf slink back into the trees, until he's gone from sight. 

Eddie tries to ignore the persistent feeling, the one pulling at his brain, but he's only able to ignore it until the next full moon, when the wolf is back, lurking near the trailer this time, as if this time he was able to track him home.

Eddie lives like six miles from the gas station. He doesn't know the range a wolf has, but that seems far. Especially figuring in the wolf also being out Skull Rock the first night. He's covering ground, that's for damn sure. 

The wolf comes right up to the dead patch of grass they call a lawn, and lays down, looking up at Eddie.

"Hi, again. I'm Eddie. And I think you're a werewolf," Eddie says, and the wolf whines, "Are you a werewolf? Are you a person?"

The wolf snuffles, and Eddie thinks that could be a yes. Or not. He doesn't exactly speak wolf. 

"Who are you?" Eddie asks, as if the wolf can tell him that. "Are you someone I know?"

He doesn't get an answer, but he leaves the porch and sits down on the ground, crossing his legs under him. Right in front of the relaxed animal. 

"Can I pet you?" 

And the wolf leans in his direction. Eddie takes that as a yes, and buries his hand in the wolf's scruff, scratching him, deep and thoroughly. 

His fur is rougher than Eddie had anticipated. But thick. Layers and layers of gorgeous, brown hair. 

And the wolf gets closer and closer until he's resting his chin on Eddie's knee, where he falls asleep. 

Eddie grins.

He has a pet wolf. 

Hot damn. 

And that cements the routine. A full moon is in the sky? Eddie has a temporary wolf pet. He feeds it, and pets it, and quickly finds out it loves to roughhouse. Launching itself at Eddie, taking him down to the dirt. Rolling him.

Butting at his head, his face, under his chin, licking him. 

The first time he did it startled the shit out of Eddie, but after that, it's been expected. Eddie laughs, and the wolf barks. At least, Eddie's calling it a bark. It isn't the same as a dog barking, but it feels similar in usage.

Eddie finds an old rope in Wayne's shed, and they play tug-of-war until Eddie's sure his hands will blister. But if the wolf wants to play, Eddie isn't gonna pass up the chance to play with a wolf. 

Eddie bought a pack of tennis balls at Melvald's, and sure enough, the wolf loves to chase them and bring them back to Eddie. A wolf that will play fetch. Who'd have thought?

It's probably because he's a human. Or half-dog. Eddie isn't sure. But, if he is a werewolf?

"Hey. Listen. If you are a person, and you do understand me, you could come find me, you know? On any of the other days that you aren't, you know, grrr," Eddie states, holding up his hands in monster fashion. 

The wolf whines, and Eddie lets it go. 

He's cool with just having a once a month wolf pal. It's honestly the best of both worlds. Exotic pet, but he doesn't even have to get a permit for it. Win-win.

The wolf howls. 

"Too loud," Eddie admonishes. 

And then it looks sad. Goddammit. 

"Turn around," Eddie commands, and the wolf does exactly that. Eddie throws him a treat.

"Sit," and he does. Another treat.

"Beg," and that's the limit, apparently, because those eyes are looking at him like he's a goddamn fool. Eddie laughs, and tosses him the piece of lunch meat anyway. He's still a good boy. Even if he won't beg.

They spend all night together, until the wolf inevitably departs before morning light.

That's okay, he'll see him next month.

But when the next full moon has illuminated the night sky, the wolf hasn't shown up. It's several hours after dark, and Eddie's concerned. He's never this late, and now Eddie doesn't know where to search. The woods near the Fair Mart? Near Skull Rock again, where he first saw him? 

He's not sure where his homebase is, his den, or whatever.

All Eddie knows is that it doesn't make sense. He wouldn't just not show up. Not after all this time. 

Something's wrong. And the pit grows in Eddie's stomach, gnawing away, the fear and preemptive sorrow of the impending loss.

He's just developing a battle plan, when he hears the familiar whimper and whine. And there he is, coming up out of the trees. He's hurt. Wet, and filthy. Limping, tail tucked between his legs. There's a deep bleeding gash across his forehead. Dried blood matted into its fur. 

Eddie panics, just for a second, then he scurries up the steps, holding open the trailer door. The wolf doesn't hesitate, just lumbers in, and flops down on the floor as if he can't go any further. 

"What happened to you?" Eddie asks, then realizes he's not gonna get an answer. 

Eddie's never brought him inside before, but he's doing it today. Eddie quickly shuts and locks the door behind them, as if whatever tore him up, might decide to, Eddie doesn't know, follow him inside? Unlikely. But still. Better safe than sorry.

"Stay right there," Eddie says, and the wolf huffs in a way that sounds almost sarcastic. Like, where else would I go, asshole?

Eddie smiles, and knows he's probably crazy. But still. It feels that way. This wolf, his wolf, seems funny. Can a wolf even be funny? Eddie isn't sure. But this one damn well is. 

Wayne's probably gonna notice all the shedded hair, dirt and blood, and wet dog smell, but tonight Eddie's not gonna worry about it.

Tonight, he's gonna try to help his buddy out.

He's covered in mud, and he smells like a lake. 

"You need a bath," Eddie declares and the wolf gets up and walks towards the bathroom like he agrees. 

Eddie laughs, "Okay. Here's the deal. We're gonna pretend you're just an animal, alright?" 

And the wolf stops in the doorway, Eddie tells him to come on, but he won't budge. Eddie tries to get a grasp on him to pull him along without hurting him, but it's fruitless. He's too strong. 

"Very funny," Eddie says, "your stubborn dog that doesn't want a bath impression is, well, impressive." 

The wolf thumps his tail and then comes right into the bathroom and carefully climbs up into the tub. 

Eddie sprays him down to get him wet, then looks at the shampoo options, "Well, I hope wolves are okay with Pert Plus 2-in-1." 

And the wolf honest to god growls, baring his sharp, white fangs, while giving Eddie the dirtiest look a wolf could muster. 

Eddie isn't scared, but he is amused. 

"Well, I'm so sorry, I don't have wolf shampoo. No Mane and Tail, here. Do you have a better idea, tough guy?" Eddie doesn't think rubbing him down with a bar of Irish Spring sounds any better.

But he watches as the wolf looks around the tub ledge, as if he's actually weighing the options, before he nudges a light-colored bottle off with his nose, sending it clattering around the slick tub, making a hell of a racket. 

Eddie retrieves it. Apple Pectin. He assumes it must belong to Wayne's lady friend. It certainly isn't his or Wayne's, that's for damn sure. 

"Alright, Mr. Fancy Pants. If you want your fur to smell like apples, that's on you." 

And with the decision made, Eddie cleans him up carefully. Lathering him up, rinsing him off. After he's finished, and has dried him off the best he can with a towel, the wolf noses around the cabinets, which is curious. What's he looking for? Then he pulls out the cord of a hair dryer, one that has a comb attached.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Eddie asks, picking up the dryer.

Eddie's never seen it in his life. Wayne has no hair, and Eddie's definitely not a blown dry kind of guy. Must be Wayne's girlfriend's. Hope she doesn't mind a little wolf fur stuck in the teeth, because the wolf's not kidding, and he sits, eyes closed, like he's enjoying the heat as Eddie combs him dry. Eddie's very careful not to get it too close to any of his wounds.

Afterwards, once he's soft and fluffier than Eddie's ever seen the pampered mutt, Eddie wraps anything still bleeding, then sits down and pats the couch cushion next to him. The wolf doesn't hesitate. Just jumps up letting out a soft growl that was surely pulled out of him by launching off his injured leg. 

"I know it must hurt," Eddie says, as he pets him gently. The wolf lays his head on Eddie's thigh, and whines pitifully. Then turns his head, like he's watching the muted television right along with Eddie. Eddie looks down at him by the only light in the darkened room, the flickering screen. 

Eddie falls asleep there, with the warm, heavy weight leaning against him. And when he wakes up, still hazy with sleep, he opens his eyes just enough to witness the wolf nudging at the lock with his nose, and then the door is open, the wolf is gone, and the only proof he was ever there is lightweight trailer door lightly banging from the early morning breeze.

After a few more hours of sleep, Eddie realizes there isn't much to eat in the house, and that means he's gonna have to finally do the grocery shopping he's been putting off before Wayne actually kills him. 

And later, as Eddie's coming out of the Big Buy, bags in hand, he nearly runs into Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, with a bandaged forehead and a slight limp. Smelling slightly of apple shampoo.

No fucking way.

Eddie's eyes widen.

"It's not what you think," Steve immediately says, which is suspicious. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. 

"Okay. It's exactly what you think," Steve says, folding like a cheap suit.

And Eddie laughs, all his teeth showing, fucking thrilled by this turn of events. Steve Harrington. Eddie wouldn't have guessed him if given a million tries.

"Steve Harrington is my pretty, pet wolf," Eddie crows. 

Steve snorts, "I'm not your pet, Munson." 

"All the lap sitting says otherwise." 

"I've never sat on your lap!" 

"You would if you could, big boy," Eddie teases.

And Steve gives him just a hint of a grin, "Yeah, yeah. Um, you're not gonna tell anyone else about this, right?" Steve asks, looking at the blacktop of the parking lot, "Because if I need a head start outta town, just say so."

"From one freak to another, nope. I didn't see anything."

Steve smiles, "Thanks. Because I'm not exactly broadcasting this information." 

Eddie makes a move as if he's locking his lips, and then he throws away the imaginary key. 

They go their separate ways, and Eddie assumes that's the last he'll see of the wolf, and probably Steve Harrington, too.

And he can't help but be a little sad about it.

Eddie tries to distract himself. But his mind keeps telling himself that Steve Harrington, wolf or not, isn't gonna come hang out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson again now that Eddie knows who he is under all that fur. And Eddie hates it.

He's playing penny can with Gareth outside the house, taking turns tossing the coins from the step into an old coffee can, under the light of the full moon, when he feels eyes on him. 

Looking to the right, standing just around the edge of the trailer, is Steve peeking in their direction.

"Hey, you're here! C'mon, boy!" Eddie calls out, lighting up at the sight of him, and Steve rounds the corner like a happy dog. Tail flicking around nearly in circles as he prances, bopping around as he comes towards Eddie.

"That's…that's a wolf!" Gareth shouts, scooting backwards.

"Calm down, he's my friend, aren't you?" Eddie asks, and Steve pounces up on him, paws on Eddie's shoulders, licking his face.

"Whoa, hey there, it's good to see you, too," Eddie laughs, trying to get him to calm down. 

"You have a pet wolf?! Since when?" Gareth screeches.

"Sssh, do you want Mrs. Wilson from down the way sticking her nose into our business?" Eddie asks, then reiterates, "And I said he's my friend, not my pet." 

"You can't be friends with a wolf, Eddie, that's crazy, even for you," Gareth insists, and Steve raises his head and growls, just a little.

Gareth clambers up and into the safety of the trailer, and Eddie laughs, looking down at Steve's warm eyes. He gets it now. Can totally see that these eyes are similar to Steve Harrington's, "That's not nice, you know. Picking on the little scaredy cat. It's like something you'd see in, I don't know, high school."

And the wolf whines.

"Hey! I'm not a scaredy cat! That's a goddamn wolf! I'm just smarter than you!" Gareth yells through the door, and Eddie laughs.

Steve snuffles, and lays his head on Eddie's thigh. His rowdy greeting apparently over with, content to let Eddie pet him.

Eddie strokes him gently, and whispers, "I'm glad you came back."

Gareth is still watching from behind the glass, and Eddie tilts his head far enough back to see him, "Look at him? He's a sweetheart. He won't hurt you. Come back out here."

And Gareth does, but he's still clearly leery of this whole situation. But he sits back down, eventually asking, "Can I pet him?"

"I don't know, you better ask him," Eddie says, because it's definitely not his place to let anyone else manhandle Steve if he doesn't want to be touched by them.

But Steve stretches his head over, indicating that he'd be open to this additional petting.

"It's almost like he understands us," Gareth says.

"He's a smart boy for sure," Eddie answers, scratching Steve behind the ear, before patting him on the butt. 

Steve whips his head around and nips at Eddie's hand, then licks it, "Okay, okay, no butt pats. You're not a cat. Got it. Sorry."

"Does he have a name?" Gareth asks.

Eddie doesn't miss a beat, "Harry." 

"Well, that's original," Gareth snarks, but Eddie doesn't care. He's not giving Steve Harrington a dog name. And he can't exactly call him Harrington. That'd raise questions Eddie's not prepared to answer.

"Well, he is hairy, ain't he?" Eddie asks, and Gareth can't help but nod, and it pleases Eddie.

Wolf Steve hangs with them all night, until morning threatens to peek over the horizon, and then he slinks away into the pre-dawn light to presumably turn back into a real boy.

"You're friends with a freakin' wolf. Like you're Snow White or some bullshit," Gareth whispers, and he sounds a little awed as they watch the wolf go.

Hell, Eddie's awed, too.

And Eddie's gonna miss him. One night a month isn't enough.

But he'll just have to wait. Eddie can be patient. 

Maybe.

He doesn't have to be patient for long. The next night while Eddie is stretched out on the couch, there's a knock at the front door. When he answers it, there's Steve Harrington, in full human form, looking back at him.

"Harrington," Eddie greets, but Steve's not beating around the bush.

"So, about those butt pats," he says, and Eddie throws his head back and laughs as he opens the door even wider. An invitation.

Was that a pick-up line? If so, at least it was original.

Steve can't be serious. 

But Steve crosses the threshold, and two can play at this game. He'll play chicken with Steve on this, so Eddie jerks his head to the right, "Bedroom's back there, big boy."

Steve doesn't hesitate, he steps towards him, and starts corralling him towards the back of the trailer, through the kitchen, applying pressure, guiding, without even touching him, somehow. 

And as he does it, he's shedding clothes. Confident in a way Eddie could never dream of being.

Holy shit. Steve Harrington is really getting naked, as he's backing Eddie's towards his bedroom.

Eddie pedals backwards, just watching, letting Steve encroach on his personal space, and then, his bedroom.

Eddie wonders if being a wolf just makes you more open, more free.

He's not sure, but he scurries along backwards, and once they're both in the bedroom, Steve kicks the door closed behind them. Eddie tugs his shirt over his head, trying to catch up before Steve changes his mind.

Then Eddie pauses:

"If you bite me, will I become a wolf?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "I'm not going to bite you."

Eddie pauses, "Well, what if I bite you?"

"Why would you bite me?" Steve asks, a confused wrinkle forming across his forehead. 

"I mean…" Eddie trails off, nodding towards the bed. 

"Don't make me regret this decision, Munson," Steve says dryly, but he's amused. Eddie can see it in his eyes. 

Eddie isn't sure why Steve made this decision at all. 

"Why are you here, for this, with me anyway?" Eddie asks. He needs to know. They've barely spoken to each other since high school. As far as Eddie knows, Steve only fucks girls. But now he's here, like he owns the place, corralling Eddie to bed?

He's having trouble processing all this new information at once. Eddie's friends with the wolf version of Steve, sure, but he wouldn't say the same for human Steve Harrington.

"Because I've realized I like you. Because you were nice to me, in wolf form. You weren't scared-"

"I was scared shitless!" Eddie interrupts, and Steve laughs.

"For like the first second. After that you were pretty fucking cool about a wolf all up in your face. Don't lie."

"Well…"

"Well, nothing," Steve snips, then his voice softens, "You understood what I most likely was and didn't care. Even if you didn't know who I was, you were pretty fucking chill about me coming to hang out."

Eddie nods. That's true, he didn't care. He'd made a friend, as wolf-shaped as it was. 

"You gave me a bath."

"Hey! I thought we agreed you were just an animal during that," Eddie argues.

Steve smiles.

"Before you, the full moons were lonely. And I dreaded them. But you changed that," Steve explains further, "And after we bumped into each other at the grocery store, I was fucking mad, man. Like, running into you, having you find out that way, it felt like it was the end of something I really looked forward to every month. But then I never heard even a whisper of a rumor that you'd told anyone what you'd figured out."

"I haven't told anyone. Didn't especially think they'd believe me if I did," Eddie laughs. But honestly, it never crossed his mind to gossip. The wolf had been good to him, and he figured it was the least he could do to be nice back.

Tit for tat, as it goes.

For Steve Harrington, or anyone else.

"And I'm grateful. I think it's just me around here," Steve says, "I never see any other wolves." 

"How'd you become a werewolf, if there's no other werewolves around? That doesn't make a lick of sense," Eddie asks.

"It was a Russian torture drug that turned me. When the mall burned down? I wasn't bitten by anything."

"No shit?" Eddie asks. He's heard rumors of what actually happened at the mall, picked up and filed away snippets of information the sheepies have dropped in his presence without realizing it, but he's never heard about Russian torture.

Steve nods. 

"I don't know if they did it on purpose or not. Robin didn't have it happen to her. Just me. So, before you found me, I was just lone wolfing it during full moons, and hoping everything went okay. Robin hated that I was all alone, but it was what it was. Then, I found you."

Eddie nods, and looks at Steve, chest full of hair. He didn't have that in high school, as far as Eddie remembers.

"Side effect?" he asks, pointing to his chest. 

"Yeah, a little. I mean, I wasn't bald or anything before, but it's sure filled out. Age or wolf, I don't really know."

Steve Harrington really turns into a freakin' wolf. 

Eddie reaches forward and combs his fingers through Steve's chest hair, and Steve tilts his head back, and whines. 

Oh fuck. Eddie's done for. This is it. The end of him.

It's familiar, and different, all at once. It's Steve.

Eddie's dick is so goddamn hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans, but all he wants is for Steve to keep making those noises. 

He'll let Steve fuck him. Hell yes, he will. He'll roll over like, well, a fucking wolf, he supposes. Bare his neck. Get mounted. Claimed. Whatever Steve wants, needs.

Only, that's not what happens. His daydreaming was a little bit off, as Steve flops on Eddie's bed, naked, legs spread open. Hand on his hard cock, stroking it as he watches Eddie. 

Eddie isn't even sure where to look. Steve's hairy thighs, his hairier chest, the aforementioned gorgeous cock now laying heavy against Steve's belly. Or his very obviously glistening hole.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, asking, "you want me to, you know?" 

Steve laughs, and Eddie isn't even sure where it comes from, but Steve's flicking a condom Eddie's way. Eddie bumbles it a bit, but catches it in two hands.

Okay, okay. Shit. He can do this. 

Steve wants him to do this?

"You don't, like, want me to submit to you?" Eddie asks, undoing his belt buckle, eyes trained on Steve's. He would. 

Steve laughs, "Not really. I want this."

"Okay," Eddie says, "cool. That's cool."

"Cool," Steve repeats, mocking him a little bit as Eddie's jeans hit the ground, like he can't help but be amused by Eddie. And Eddie likes that.

Eddie crawls on the bed, and slides one hand into Steve's hair, pulling back a little, and Steve whimpers. He leans down and presses his lips to Steve's, kissing him for the first time and eventually Steve opens his mouth, breathing into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie pulls back, "That's a good boy."

And Steve's dick jumps against Eddie's belly, leaking precum between them as he whines, and oh, he's a good boy, indeed.

Eddie takes his hand from Steve's hair, and slides it down his body, bypassing his cock, grazing his thigh instead, before sliding to the inside, and down, under his balls, fingers brushing against Steve's already slick hole. Eddie slides one finger in, then two, and three, and realizes Steve wasn't fucking around. He's gotten himself ready. For Eddie.

Goddamn.

Rolling the condom down his own cock, Eddie thinks his hands are trembling. He can't believe this is happening.

"Hey," Steve says, leaning up onto his elbows, "look at me."

And Eddie does.

"We don't have to do this. If this isn't what you wan-"

"It is," Eddie interrupts, "fuck, it definitely is."

"Okay then," Steve answers, laying back again, and then he slides one foot along the bedding, dragging it upwards, until his knee is bent. He's fucking gorgeous, and confident, and for whatever reason, wants Eddie. It's. It's, yeah. "Whenever you're ready."

Eddie's ready now, and he slots himself between Steve's thighs, lifting him up a little as he lines up and presses inside, deeper and deeper until he's bottomed out. 

His dick is in Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington is his wolf.

Steve whines, and Eddie takes the cue, and starts fucking him in earnest. Cock sliding in and nearly out easily, his balls slapping against Steve's skin with every rough thrust as he builds up a rhythm. 

He's fucking Steve Harrington, and Steve Harrington is liking it by the sounds he's making. By his actions. 

Fingers digging into Eddie's shoulders, his back, his ass, spurring him on.

It's not gonna last long. Eddie's too overstimulated by everything that's happened, and might happen again, in the future. 

He wraps his fist around Steve's dick, wanting to get him off first, and as soon as Steve comes all over his own hairy belly, Eddie slams back into him, chasing his own orgasm. Coming inside him, filling the condom, with a long groan.

Eddie never wants to leave, but he eventually pulls out, and gets up to dispose of the condom. He grabs his shirt and wipes Steve's stomach halfway clean, and then stands there, unsure what comes next. 

Is Steve gonna go? Gonna stay?

Stay apparently, because Steve opens his arm, and Eddie crawls into bed, sliding up against him. Sweat-slick bodies slotting together until they find a comfortable position. 

Laying with him, the afterglow making his mind fuzzy, Eddie wonders if wolves mate for life. 

He sure fucking hopes so.

When the next full moon fills the night sky, Eddie borrows Uncle Wayne's truck, and holds open the passenger door for his wolfie, watching as Steve easily hops in. Eddie rolls down the window with the hand crank, since Steve can't do it for himself in wolf form, and then goes around and slides into the driver's seat.

Enrichment, that's the plan. Steve doesn't need to spend all of his full moons cooped up in the trailer. He needs to be free. Wild. Run around. Feel the wind blow through his fur, or whatever. Eddie doesn't want to tame him, only love him.

So, Eddie takes him out into the country, driving the winding dirt backroads, until he finds a wide-open space, a field where Steve can run. Eddie runs with him, not nearly able to keep up with his speed, and once Eddie's quickly worn out, he sits down in the soft grass, intent to keep watching.

But Steve runs up and nudges Eddie under the chin with his snout, rubbing all over him, and Eddie lets him do it, Eddie eventually collapsing onto his back. Then, Steve crawls on top of him, the heavy weight of the wolf pushing him into the ground below. Eddie feels Steve's stomach growl against him, and he knows they'll meet Robin for breakfast in the morning, where Steve will absolutely decimate a huge stack of pancakes and anything else from their plates that he can get his hands on.

Wolfing makes his boyfriend hungry. And Eddie chuckles: boyfriend. Steve Harrington is his boyfriend.

And his wolf, who is currently licking Eddie's face, making him squirm and laugh harder as Eddie scritches the back of Steve's neck.

He's a good boy, Eddie's good boy, somehow.

And once Steve's tired himself out, Eddie loads him up into the truck, grinning as they head back to town. Glancing between the open stretch of road before him, and Steve beside him, hanging his head out of the open window, howling at the moon.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, pop over to @steddie-spooktober and follow along with the spooky fun! 🐺

Notes: Title is from the Metallica song of the same name. Pert Plus 2-in-1 came out in 1987, so I guess it's at least 1987 here, lol. Apple Pectin was a real shampoo. It was discontinued. RIP, Apple Pectin. I haven't actually smelled you in thirty years, but your scent is still seared into my brain.

[chrysalizzm]

survival of the fittest: predictions for generation two

i said in rancord sub-boosty chat that i would probably write a comprehensive meta regarding my theories for generation two and then it got nuked bc i wrote way too much in one message w spoiler blinders so here it is!

spoilers for generation loss episodes one, two, and three.

given that i started watching genloss assuming it was an allegory for genetic algorithms in ai due to the language of “generations” (knowing now that generation loss, as a concept, refers to “degradation of quality resulting from imperfect reproduction techniques”) i think that there's an element both of refinement and of deterioration here. a couple of elements are at play:

for those unfamiliar, a genetic algorithm is a method by which self-learning ai acquire and refine their pool of knowledge. very generally speaking, ai are trained in “generations,” with each generation learning from its predecessor and improving upon itself to reach its ultimate goal. to this end, genetic algorithms use process of elimination to narrow down the best ai—in other words, natural selection: survival of the fittest. the strongest wins. 

in the context of genloss, this seems to align with showfall media’s goal: creating the Perfect Hero for their Perfect Show. it also, perhaps, hints at what’s to come in generations two and three. i get the feeling that we will be seeing new ranboos, each one better equipped for the tasks demanded by the show than their previous iterations, and yet also retaining the knowledge that allowed the generations before them to survive. what are favorable traits within the ecosystem of showfall media? complacency? levelheadedness? the ability to perform unflinching normalcy under hellish conditions? at any rate, showfall media wants the generations of our hero, ranboo, to eventually acquire the skills to be the ideal protagonist and engaging pov character, whatever that may entail. it’d behoove us to keep an eye out for changes in generation two that seem influenced by the erratic and even unstable nature of generation one. 

(on a slight tangent: this is also how our brains learn things, and is relevant to trauma formation and retention. we often develop trauma responses to specific things—triggers—because those are what helped us survive traumatic experiences. there is positive reinforcement here: because we survived, we will do it again, and again, and again. parallel to natural selection, our brains prune responses; this is why trauma survivors have altered responses to things that may seem completely normal for people who don’t share those triggers or responses with them. altered response in brain structures, particularly the amygdala (the so-called “fear center”) are part of the observed neurobiological differences btwn those with and without ptsd—but i digress.)

on to generation loss. this has probably already been theorized before so i won’t beat a dead horse, but in the context of knowledge retention and crystallization as mentioned above, i think we’ll also see the next generations deteriorate significantly. this may manifest as more frequent breaks between the narrative of the show and what’s actually happening (e.g. this clip [blood and emotional distress tw] of the showfall media illusion breaking and us being shown ranboo elbow deep in charlie’s blood) and likely more emotional turmoil and derealization on the part of generation two and three. i wonder if generation two will inherit generation one’s cracked mask as a symbolic gesture and as an implicit warning, but that’s just broad speculation (and i imagine that mask is pretty much crushed to bits by now).

also re:the idea of imperfect reproduction causing the phenomenon of generation loss. we have to remember that ranboo is not the only character to be rescripted. charlie has had multiple generations. sneeg has had multiple generations. it’s sort of implied jerma has had multiple generations just by proxy of how long he’d been part of the genloss project. circling back to charlie and sneeg, though: their generations were imperfect. they made mistakes that broke the flow and immersion of the show, and it cost them. the generation that made the mistake was killed, and a new generation—streamlined, scripted, perfectly seamless—was put in their place. i found sneeg particularly rebellious, and also wonder about the importance of that hat and how it seemingly granted him self-awareness. at a guess it was because the hat was a holdover from the previous episode so the continuity error was what fucked sneeg up, in which case the hat didn’t actually have to be put on sneeg for the same effect to happen, but sneeg did hold it together remarkably well—long enough to attempt an escape. i wonder if that, too, was scripted. i wonder if everything we saw, everything we were handed with both hands by showfall and by hetch, was scripted.

ultimately i was super intrigued by genloss and am hyperfixating on it, if you couldn’t already tell. it was an incredible production with an incredible cast, story, costuming—everything. i’m in love with it. thank you to ranboo and to everyone on the cast and crew for genloss and i’m very excited for what’s next.

other stuff that stuck out to me that didn’t quite fit into this prediction:

hetch isn’t the founder, he’s just someone who appears to have control over the production that ranboo specifically was starring in (which is still a lot of executive power). saying that makes me wonder if there are other shows showfall media is in charge of, and genloss is just one of them. i found it interesting that hetch told ranboo to keep his mask at the outset of ep3, and this was the main reason why i personally did not trust him.

according to the genloss bts twitter, there was a “live” ending. that said, i think hetch opening the floor for ranboo to speak directly to the audience was what ultimately swung the vote so far to “die.” i’ve seen people talking about this already: we swarmed the vote en masse for “live” until hetch told ranboo they would just be reprogrammed into the show again, and ranboo begged. they begged us to let them die. look at us. we were never going to be able to say no to them. (i also think ranboo’s death makes for a compelling story in the future regarding my theory of generations, but i don’t know what the “live” ending would have looked like, so this is fully biased.)

thinking about how the show was shaped to culminate to ep3 from the beginning. we’ve seen and heard hetch through it all, and he was the one to break the illusion for ranboo. every last bit was scripted. uhh something something i think ranboo’s rebellion against chat in ep3 was also intended, even if the specific code that he chose wasn’t scripted. it really defeats a person to realize nothing is in their control, you know? the freedom was an illusion after all.

sources

what is generation loss (concept)? how genetic algorithms work human-guided machine learning optimization of knowledge acquisition

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

preemptively sorry for how fucking long this is it is YOUR FAULTT THOUGH!!!! large bowl of seeds for u. it is almost 2am sorry.

SO. there are. two ways to assign the prime defenders powers etc. the first way is just, like, categorize their existing powersets within the prt framework, & the second is to give them entirely new abilities based on the way worm works. delightfully, all the powers they Do have work really well for the most part, so even that doesn't require a ton of shuffling.

categorizing their pre-existing powers:

wiwi-- breaker w/ a shaker subclass. neither of them rated very high, but that's already a rare and versatile enough combination!!

dakota-- brute babeeeey!!! brute/mover its so straightforward. hell yeah babey. i don't know what he'll end up looking like post-heart removal & stuff but my guess is that'll end up looking more like a mover/striker.

vyncent-- now THIS one gave me trouble. i... hm. to say this without talking about stuff that i don't think has come up much already, (hey!! you're at that clockblocker pov! directly related to what flechette says!) i'd call him a grab-bag cape, irt the greats at least. post-greats-- again, i don't know what his powerset will look like after this arc! but if he's going all in w/ the fire magic, that would for sure be some striker shit! :]]]

giving them new powers... man i'm reining myself in so hard from five more paragraphs on Why exactly i'm saying all this.

wiwi still breaker for sure, maybe breaker-master, maybe master-stranger. yknow. powers are fluid, the prt categories are pretty rigid. i... don't know. enough about his situation yet to be clearer than that vague idea yet-- i really like the idea of him just. ditching his body & using a noncorporeal form but he still has to keep an eye on his body i think that's great. the noncorporeal form would b able to change its visibility but still b limited by proximity to the body. & fluctuating energy shit powered by fluctuating amounts of recent-death in the area, maybe probably also limited in that it's only accessible in his breaker form.... also i think u will appreciate this style note from the [UNNAMED PARAHUMANS TTRPG] i'm referencing a lot here.

dakota--in this situation he probably would not. have that mechanical heart and shit. he' would still be a mover/thinker-- thinker rating is for faster mental processing + senses imminent pain for the people in his immediate vicinity. not danger, just pain; it immediately registers ambiently & can be generally traced back to whoever it is. no he can't turn it off ever, it manifests as feeling a similar level of pain, yes it works on himself. + mover-- he can fucking fly. no super strength, just very fast flight & the general "won't splat himself flying into something" capabilities, which meshes well w/ the faster processing & reflexes. i'm split on how exactly this would work mechanically but i will NOT go into that now. i am also not going into the 15k discussion in my brain on why dakota 'notoriously bad at thinking about things' cole would be a thinker but u gotta trust the process ok??

vyncent-- trump!!!! somehow this is the only straightforward one to me? he can copy powers at the full strength or ability level of the original for an unspecified amount of time that's usually 1-30 minutes by touching the cape. crucially, he doesn't have any edge on how to use these powers + can easily misuse or become extremely overwhelmed by them. he's easily the most powerful out of the three of them <33

ashe-- ashe is NOT HERE currently and also it's 1:30 am so i gotta go fucking sleep soon BUT they would be a master. easy. :o) they can make some lil guys n do stuff with them!!!!

in general these are pretty fucking cracked abilities, all of them would b oosely above a seven or so in a number rating once they're really settled in their powers-- this is mostly because i'm assuming that they would still be heirs-apparent to the prime force equivalent, which would b the triumvirate :]] anyway. good lord. this is like the cliff notes edition of what i've been thinking and scribbling in the notes app for the past several hours. sorry if it's fucking incomprehensible. gn!!! <333

AAAAAH FUCK YESSSSSS OKAY OKAY OKAY my response is probably going to be equally as long. so it's fine. oooouh buddy.

I KNOW WHAT BREAKER MEANS NOW !!! I dontttt think ive learned shaker yet. breaker is like.... breaking the laws of physics/shifting planes or whatever. PERFECT for william hell yes. for putting them actually in worm world ... ughhhh breaker/master william is REALLY cool. I havwnt learned stranger yet but i think he would develop a complex over being classified as stranger <3 (like how weld doesn't like that he's classified as a brute even though that's not exactly what it means, he just doesn't like the word) . GODDDD just thinking abt putting pd boys in worm is fucking me up haven't they been through enough. I want to see them all in a fit of despair. william ditching his body is SO good I miss when he would do that, also the powers being limited by how far away he is AND THE AMOUNT OF RECENT DEATH IN THE AREA. holy shit. that's so fucking good . im sure he would not overthink at all the fact that he is stronger when more people around him have died . I'm sure he'd do awesome in the leviathan fight for sure for sure .

DAKOTA BRUTE <3 DAKOTA BRUTE/MOVER I LOVE THIS A LOTTTTTT hellbyes. awesome. it's so perfect for him <3 worm world I'm SURPRISED u didn't stick with brute for him. eyes emoji. I trust your judgement but now i am Thinking... Hmm..... YOU BRING INTO QUESTION something I have been thinking about. and I'm going to probably get derailed a little here but stay with me. how the way powers manifest directly relate to the trigger event. because for a WHILE before we learned taylors I was like "OH i bet the powers are going to be directly related to what traumatic thing happened to them" and then we learn about taylor and grue and a couple more and I kind of lost that theory because while you can. technically draw relations between their powers and their events it seemed like too much of a stretch to do . HOWEVER now my thinking has changed AGAIN and I think the powers ARE related to specific trigger events but it's not as straightforward as "oh something scary happened to you with bugs so now you have bug powers" I think it's gonna be more complicated than that. WHICH. THE WAY THIS RELATES. BACK ON TOPIC NOW. to DAKOTA . assuming his trigger event is still he and katori falling off the building I think it's AWESOME that his powers would manifest as FLIGHT for one. and the fucking. pain sense thing. fuck me up. dakota extreme hero complex cole would be so fucked up by a power where he ambiently senses pain from the people around him at all times and cannot turn it off. I'm sure he would feel so normal about being around william chronic pain wisp 24/7. also I can SO CLEARLY imagine how this power specifically would lead to him getting super overwhelmed in chaotic situations like he does in canon. and just fucking. bolt out of there because it's too much. again. he'd have such a wonderful time in the leviathan fight

I AM AT CLOCKBLOCKER POV !!!! actually technically I'm on kid win pov now but I haven't finished his chapter yet. vyncent grab bag cape..... yeah... I think it would be EXTREMELY funny imagining the PRT in pd world trying 2 classify vyncent like. what the fuck does this kid do . what do we do with him. hes got other guys in his head that give him powers. is he a master??? no he can't fucking control them. is he a striker??? only SOMETIMES. is he a blaster?? AGAIN ONLY SOMETIMES. cannot classify him bitch!!!!!!!! giving him worm powers though.. UGH. being able to touch someone and COMPLETELY copy their powers but only for a short period of time???? I fucking love that a lot. he WOULD be the most powerful out of them!!! I can hear taylors inner analysis dialogue about him now and it's very similar to the clockblocker "DONT LET HIM.TOUCH YOU" panic. loooove imagining this playing off of the rest of pd,,, i know there was AT LEAST one time where he had william sort of transfer some of his ghost powers for a minute? I think it was during the lich fight in the theatre but i just remember vycnent floating and going intangible and NOT KNOWING how to control it or anything. loveeee that. in world dynamics I feel like vyncent would be a late addition to their team (instead of coming from another world maybe he just. had his trigger event happen way later than the other two..or something.) and not trusting them as much at first/being REALLY shaky using either of their powers but after a while being really comfortable in a fight with using either Williams or dakotas powers in a fight. Just like. imagining the fluidity of how they'd work together in a tense situation assuming they're not being complete dumbasses <3333 UGH it's really good

AAAASHE ASHE ASHE IM SOOO SO GLAD YOU INCLUDED ASHE IN THIS I miss him.so much every day. from what I know so far master involves having/making/controlling some sort of minion (cannot think of a better word than that rn) AND I THINK THATS REALLYYYY perfect for ashe. i assume he would actually work pretty closely to canon in that his limitation would be the book? or if he doesn't have the book maybe his limitation would be a) having only a few different types of things he could summon (the big hand, the water fairy, duck etc) and/or b) only being able to control them.for a short amount of time after they're summoned so he has to be quick about dismissing them. can't keep the demon hand around for too long or it might start picking things up and throwing them at random. putting teammates in danger bc he can't control it anymore etc etc. alsooooooo in clockblocker pov they VERY briefly mentioned the possibility of having secondary trigger events (?!!!!?!?!) and you know I locked onto that SO FUCKING HARD. ashe being born with powers and then his secondary trigger event being his mom's death <3 im.NOT even going to attempt to talk about how the trickster would work in worm world/if it would even exist in this setting bc i don't know enough about the types of powers and things yet..but just know. I am keeping this in the back of my mind "this is a fun surprise tool that will help us later" style

[microsuedemouse]

In Eden

➤ In his final moments, Nicholas D. Wolfwood wished with everything he had for another chance. A different life. A better world.

➤ This is none of those things. Against all odds, though, he's still alive, and to squander that would be a disservice to the woman who saved him. So he'll try. He'll put his friends behind him and forge something new.

➤ After all, he can never go back.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood/Milly Thompson | 8 011 words | Rated T+ | Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Reunions, (Ambiguously) Catholic Guilt

“I did not wanna die this way!”

The last thing Nicholas D. Wolfwood expects is to wake up. So when he does, he assumes these are the final desperate attempts of his dying mind to grasp at something better. To claw its way out of this uncaring existence and into a kinder plane. He wished so hard for a second chance – a more loving reality – that the chemical misfires of his brain, steadily running out of blood, are now producing hallucinations of exactly that. Except that he isn’t waking up in the Eden he’d dreamed of.

Keep reading on AO3 →

hhhhokay so. this has been in my drafts since shortly after I finished watching the show, which was apparently... February? whoogh. I was never sure if I got the pacing/length just right, so I was never quite ready to call it finished. but recently @llamahearted posted another wonderful Millywood drawing and it reminded me that I still wanted to clean this up and post it!

listen, Vashwood is fantastic, but Millywood just hits alllll the right notes for me. I adore them so much, and I wish they could've had the happy ending they deserved. so I'm out here writing fix-it fic in which What If They Actually Didn't Die, once again. Nicholas's tragedy is really good, and its impact on Vash's story is really important, but also... what if.

also, I made up a bit of my own lore for the Chapel of the Gung-Ho-Guns, because the manga lore is so so silly. it's really only implied/mentioned in the fic itself, but I just wanted to pad out a few spots.

spoilery bit about the final lines of the fic below:

I was divided on revealing Goodwin's first name to be Eden, because I really liked the symbolism/symmetry of that, and of the idea of Nicholas never having learned that about her. but I'm also very in love with the idea of Nicholas and Milly having a daughter and naming her Eden. so I waffled a lot.

and then I remembered it's fanfic and I can do whatever I want. if I decide to write another fic where they do have a daughter named Eden, no one's gonna arrest me for using the same general idea two slightly different ways. also, you don't even actually meet the baby in this fic, so. who cares. it's FINE.

[angels-heap]

*raises hand* I want to know about the barney/Lauren fic!

OKAY SO. In late 2019/early 2020 while I was writing The Ghost in You, I was also writing a companion fic in my brain that followed Lauren, Barney, and Gordon pre-rescas, from the time they all met until the day after the Incident. Working title was “Every Breath You Take” because (1) I suck at titles, (2) I’d already titled two fics in that series after 80s songs and wanted to stick to the pattern, and (3) the whole concept was that Lauren thought she was successfully spying on Black Mesa and uncovering conspiracies – which she was, to be clear – but the G-man was also watching her.

I kept telling myself not to start earnestly drafting the fic until The Ghost in You was closer to done, both because I didn’t want to manage two longfics at once and because I felt the prequel would hit harder after readers learned more about Lauren through post-HL2 Barney and Gordon’s recollections. Then, of course, the 2020 fandom bullshit happened and I basically scrapped the idea, though it lives on in my head and in a handful of drafts and phone notes scattered across my devices.

It’s highly unlikely that I’ll write the fic at this point, despite my renewed interest in the fandom, mostly because my 9-5 job (which is really more of an 8-10 job) won’t allow me the time or flexibility to take on another project that big. So, for anyone who’s curious about what could have been…

Context: Lauren is a food service/cafeteria worker at Black Mesa, assigned to the cafeteria near Sector C at the time of the story. This is how and where she met Barney (as explained in The Ghost in You). A running theme of the prequel was to be how service workers (especially female service workers) were essentially invisible at Black Mesa due to the various -isms and prejudices of the time, which meant Lauren could get away with a lot with a little stealth and social engineering.

I’ve forgotten and/or never got around to drafting a lot of the connective tissue between the major plot points, but here’s a rundown of all the important beats I can find/remember:

Story opens with Barney telling Lauren about “ponytail guy” (Gordon), the new AnMat scientist who always eats alone and never seems to talk to anyone. Lauren challenges Barney to approach ponytail guy and to her surprise, they hit it off. Barney won’t shut up about how nice and interesting his new friend is all night, and the next day, when Barney shows up to help her move her stuff into his apartment, he brings ponytail guy with him! Lauren’s wary of him at first, due to a general distrust of scientists, but eventually warms up to him through dunking on Barney and a mutual interest in sci-fi.

Lauren’s team caters a working lunch for Dr. Breen and other higher-ups. She inadvertently overhears something she shouldn’t have about the Lambda Complex’s unacceptably high casualty rate. She recalls hearing rumors and noticing that some of those scientists have gone missing recently, but had assumed they quit/moved/retired. Now she’s not so sure. She vows to keep closer tabs on Lambda Complex scientists in the future and decides not to mention any of this to fellow conspiracy nut Barney—at least, not yet. Not until she has proof.

Interlude: Lauren and Barney have a conversation about who they’d want a “hall pass” to sleep with, no questions asked, without it affecting their relationship. After some back-and-forth, they decide to write their choices down on scrap paper and swap them. Lauren picks Leonardo DiCaprio. Barney picks Gordon. He instantly protests that he didn’t understand the game, but Lauren knows better. She’s also not surprised, and she likes Gordon well enough, and she feels secure enough in their relationship that she doesn’t exactly feel threatened that Barney’s also attracted to Gordon. In fact, she finds the whole thing kind of hot, but she’s not inclined to tell Barney that yet. It’s more fun to let him squirm and see where things go.

Over a span of several weeks, Lauren hears rumors that several more Lambda Complex scientists have suddenly disappeared. She starts casually asking around and gets stonewalled at every turn, which only raises further suspicions. She asks Gordon what he thinks and he shrugs the whole thing off as a rumor. On her way home from Gordon’s apartment, she sees a pale man in a blue suit watching her from a distance. He makes eye contact with her, straightens his tie, and walks away.

Lauren picks up extra shifts as a custodian to gain access to Sector E facilities, based on a hunch. She pretends to get lost and strategically “stumbles across” one of the specimen labs, where she discovers Xen fauna in various stages of dissection and skims some unsecured lab notes. When she's caught by a condescending scientist who's clearly in a hurry, she simply plays dumb and gets escorted back to her work area with a warning. After that shift, she returns to her and Barney’s shared apartment to find that he and Gordon are celebrating the news that Gordon’s up for a promotion to the Lambda Complex team, pending a letter of recommendation from Dr. Kleiner. Lauren instantly knows that this cannot be allowed to happen and starts scheming.

Next time the three of them get together, Lauren casually asks Gordon if he knows about Xen, to which he replies, “Zen? I’ve never relaxed a day in my life.” (This conversation is also referenced in TGIY). This confirms that he has no idea what he’s about to be sent off to do, so she resolves to set her plan into action. After Barney and Gordon conk out on the couch, she steals Gordon’s swipe card and manages to convince the guard in Sector C (a friend of Barney’s) that Gordon asked her to drop something off in Kleiner’s office. He escorts her in and looks away long enough for her to steal Gordon’s letter of rec out of Kleiner’s outgoing mail tray. She smuggles it out, rips it to shreds, and flushes it down the toilet. G-man watches her leave.

(Somewhere in here, Barney and Gordon attend the infamous Christmas Party referenced in The Ghost in You, where they get super drunk and end up making out with each other while Lauren is out of town. Barney calls Lauren the next day and she just knows something happened between them, but she’s not mad. Barney hands Gordon the phone, and she gives him a minor heart attack by saying something along the lines of “Next time you decide to make out with my boyfriend, can you at least invite me?” This whole debacle could’ve been—and almost was—its own fic.)

Gordon’s transfer never goes through. Everything goes back to normal. Lauren continues to snoop around and becomes increasingly paranoid that the blue-suited bureaucrat is following her around (because he is). She mentions this to Barney, who shrugs it off (“Black Mesa’s crawling with suits”) and suggests that maybe she’s seeing things because she hasn’t been sleeping well. Lauren realizes he’s right, and maybe there’s more to her nightmares and restless sleep and constant body aches than the stress of uncovering an interdimensional conspiracy that she can’t talk about with anyone. She takes a pregnancy test. It's positive.

(Insert a scene referenced in The Ghost in You: Either the one where Lauren tells Barney about the pregnancy and he freaks the fuck out, or the post-Galaxy Quest conversation where Lauren asks Gordon if he thinks Barney would be a good father, from Lauren’s POV.)

Flash forward to the day of the incident. Lauren’s in New York when she hears news that something’s happened at Black Mesa. She starts calling Barney’s apartment phone (no answer, no answering machine) and Gordon’s (no answer, and she discovers that Barney recorded a goofy message on Gordon’s answering machine without his knowledge). Hours drag on with no news, and the rest of her family eventually goes out to dinner, leaving her alone, dialing Gordon’s number over and over, even after she knows in her heart that he’s never going to answer, just to hear Barney’s voice. Eventually, the line is disconnected mid-call.

(If you’ve read The Ghost in You, you probably have your suspicions as to how everything ends. I’m intentionally leaving this vague for now, just to preserve the ambiguity, but suffice to say that Lauren’s experience of her last phone call with Barney was a bit different than his. If anyone’s actually read this far, I welcome your theories.)

So, that's the fic! I'm sure its final form would've been much more interesting and cohesive than this outline, but I was proud of it as a starting point and it gave rise to so many of my cherished headcanons. Make of it what you will.

[kharmii]

Meta Liberation Army Fandom Drama

There's no safe word in the Kharmii dungeon today, so expect to get it raw and hard with a touch of the 'tism. Someone once told me -might have been @feldkommandant that Asian fans generally keep to themselves because they don't want to deal with Western world fandom drama. I just experienced the worst example of that in action. It's the reason I wrote this post about stuffy old ideologue fangusfungus throwing out a DAMN FUNDIES!!1!1!!! rant.

DISCLAIMER: This is going to be R-18 rated comedy. If anything in this post makes you feel uptight, turn off your device and touch grass.

-So I was a happy lurker watching a bunch of Paranormal Liberation Front fans participate in this Strawpage thing, which appears to be a site where artists crank out quick gift art in the form of loose sketches. It's not something I'd ever participate in because it takes me forever to finish anything. A couple of Asian artists were invited to participate, and they pretty much right away became victims of antishipper ire. They were so rattled that one artist might have set their page to private, and another deleted all their shippy art, even if it was as innocuous as hand-holding.

Side note: This is all speculation btw. I'm an observer trying to make sense of it.

-So Fungs did their rant, and I posted something on their page that they promptly deleted but then reposted as a cap:

0% of antishippers are 'right wing white supremacist Christian fascists' or whatever. I'm not intimidated by those titles because I am an iconoclast who can't be pigeonholed. Right wing people have found me just as offensive.

Also, there are two reasons why it was completely absurd of this person to assume I was to blame.

1.) I'm not a sniveling cowardly rat-faced leftist twat who tittle tattles over petty bs. All those people are supposedly over on Bluesky, LOL!

2.) It would be counterproductive of me to harass Asian artists into going incognito when the whole point of my blog is to obsess over stupid crap and then post related artwork constantly. Right now, I've got the MLA in an iron fist and don't plan on letting go for a very long time.

One of the artists who went private made a 48-page labor of love devoted solely to the underutilized character Trumpet. I'm confused about why antis would target them, but those people are fckn nuts, so who knows?

They were the artist who did this btw, the illustration book about Trumpet AKA 'Cunty Flowergarden'.

The other targeted artist might have offended the crazies doing ReDestro x Shigaraki, which is like a 50/20 ship (my best guess), but it's not as if minors were involved. I'm sad I didn't save more of their work on my computer. All I have is this:

After putting Trumpet through the wringer, I have an idea for a sequel (not really, this is my muse being a smartass). One of the advisors in Skeptic's Carmine Regiment has a brain reprogramming quirk. While they have Trumpet strapped down to a chair with his eyelids taped open, ReDestro tells them, "Make sure he never questions Meta Liberation Army ideology again. Also, make him think we are a couple, and that he blows me under my desk on demand."

Next thing you know, my guy is walking around with a perpetually vacant smile on his face saying stuff in a hypnotic tone like, "Hail ReDestro! Meta Liberation Army until I die!" The above artwork is the new and improved Trumpet.

Anyway, I thought me and Fungs were on the same page. He also did a trans Shig AU. I almost made Shigs trans in Trumpet's Trauma, but that would have crossed a line into being too gross. If I'm going to spend my valuable time writing a 10+K word gooner fic, it can't be too gross. It has to be something I'd want to read if someone else wrote it.

ReD is acting like the proper bootlicker, but he's hard pressed to keep that phony act up. He's sort of wishing he let Shig kill him the day he lost his legs, but he has one of those 'Do It For Him' pictures on his desk with adorable photos of Geten taped to it.

There's also hyper-sexual man-whore Trumpet:

-But then it's like....aaawwwwww......AAAWWWWWWWWW.......

I preferred the fanon head canon where Dabi can't eat because his internal organs are too damaged. -Or maybe that's what is going on here, but poor hapless Dabi keeps trying.

Moving on......back to the drama.

1.) Christofascism isn't a thing in fandom because 100% of antis are emotionally immature minors or twenty-somethings who most certainly will have 'pro Palestine' in their profiles with all their stupid pronouns listed.

2.) Damn right I'm straight! I might be a twisted degenerate perv who writes fan fic of guys getting shellacked by other guys, but that doesn't mean I should be lumped in with the sorts of people who spread Monkeypox in rest stop bathrooms or who walk weirdos in dog masks around on leashes.

Side note: Do Asian women feel the same way? -Like do women into fujoshi culture consider themselves 100% straight but just like to see cartoon boys being cute?

3.) I'm def not a 'terf' because that stands for 'trans excluding radical feminist'. I'm in no way aligned with radical feminism. That 'christofascism' shpeal is bigoted also. It's normal to want to preserve Christian values in countries built on foundations of Christian values. When Muslims go into a country and for real VIOLENTLY force their values on people, nobody is allowed to call them out on it.

4.) This person went private for a few hours because they were supposedly afraid I'd harass them and their friends. That means they must think I'm the kind of psychopath who'd stew on some drama for like a second, then be like, "Oh look, A SHINY!" *runs off* "WHEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!"

Come to think of it, I head canon ReDestro as being that sort of villain, like if he was pissed at you and didn't break your spine in half in the first five minutes, then he'd get distracted and wander off. He's a busy man, after all.

Anyway, that artist was better years ago when they drew more attractive characters with visually appealing fetishses, but lately they've descended into fat, transgender neckbeard pron. It's like the cartoon version of this:

There's no comparing to the pretty ones because they all look like that. Most look like that...but werewolf bullshit. Fungs was making Trumpet look like that. Let's detrans the Trumpet. Seriously, the guy is a solid mesomorph build who probably stands a hair over six feet tall.

Seriously, if you are going to make a MLA person trans, it would be funnier to do it to this guy:

Imagine our guy...erm 'lady' in a convenience store berating some poor clerk.

ReDestro: It's MA'AM!!! Don't stress Momma out or she might have to pop a bitch's skull like a pimple! *Takes out whole side of wall with 20% stress*

Skeptic would make a good transfemale. My best guess is that he's about 6'11" in canon. I could see him fighting to get ladies room rights. He would have had cameras trained on all the toilets for a while, but after some time, it wouldn't be good enough. He'd have a burning desire to be physically present. All it would take was one bad ruling from an activist judge, and he'd be in there skulking around like an oversized slenderman.

Trumpet zeroes in because he can't help himself. He like, "Suck my dick?" Skeptic refuses because he's a 'translesbian'.

Found this miscellaneous post when I was trolling for content:

I actually did a fan fic where that happened because I live to serve. To be fair though, Trumpet gets his ass beat in canon. You just know it. Look at his arrest photo:

Is that a boot print on his forehead? At least they had the common decency to let him comb his hair before they took the mugshot. You just know this man wasn't involved in any sort of combat during the Gunga Villa Raid. He was probably hiding in a broom closet during the worst of the action. The authorities had to drag him out kicking and screaming.

Let me clue you in on something....they don't have that 'defund the police' crap in Asian countries. People are okay with scumbag criminals getting what's coming to them. The cops who arrested Trumpet were like, "Wait...is that the politician? Are we getting to arrest the politician?" They would all look at one another for a moment, and then someone would say, "What do you think, boys? Does this asshole look like he's 'resisting arrest' to you?"

Trumpet would vehemently wave his hands shaking his head saying, "No! NO! NO I'M NOT! NOOO!!"

Next thing you know, all the cops would pull out their billy clubs and go to town on his ass like they're Endeavor trying to make the baby stick.

[anyroads]

Reblogging again with some useful sources (I was on my phone before) and also just want to say that while historically 25% of covid patients experience lingering symptoms for several weeks or even months, fewer experience full-blown long covid and it's unlikely that you will, so none of this is meant to cause anxiety or assume you'll need it. OP has a popular blog, however, and I feel it's important to spread correct information about disabilities. I've come across a lot of people who had Long Covid and didn't know it, or that they could get help for their symptoms. So this info is to spread knowledge and awareness, and to prevent people like Anon from giving well-meaning incorrect advice that could hurt people.

Firstly, this article from January on the Netherlands study that first showed evidence of what had been theorized for years and expressed by LC patients, which is that exercising is directly and significantly detrimental to them.

"New research from the Netherlands is important because it shows clear evidence of a biological basis for their symptoms. Scientists there compared 25 people with long COVID to those who'd had COVID and fully recovered. Both groups did an exercise test on a stationary bike that lasted about 10 to 15 minutes. The research team drew blood and took muscle biopsies from their legs before and after the exercise. Braeden Charlton is at Vrije University in Amsterdam and one of the study's authors. ... After exercising, the consequences to the muscle were dramatic. Charlton says multiple tests revealed the mitochondria, the body's cellular power plants, are compromised, meaning their capacity to take up oxygen and produce energy is impaired. ... they also found atrophy and immense amounts of cell death in the muscle tissue."

In short, due to Long Covid compromising mitochondrial functions, muscles don't repair the way they normally would. When you exercise and end up feeling sore, it's because your muscle tissue is damaged, which is normal - you get stronger because muscle tissue repairs stronger than it was. In LC patients this doesn't happen, because of the compromised mitochondrial function. Their muscles just remain damaged. Although this study is new and the sample pool for it was small, Long Covid doctors have been telling patients very strictly to avoid exertion and exercise that raises their heart rate for years. This very much includes "light jogging" and for some people it even includes going for walks. A year ago I was told that the most I'm allowed to do was go for a walk around the block, and that I had to rest for ten minutes on a bench before walking up the stairs to my flat (since then, with a lot of work and just healing over time, I've expanded this to longer walks and even using the rowing machine we have at home for up to 4 minutes with rests every minute, just to give you an idea of what can fall on the spectrum of exercise limitations during recovery).

Again, it varies on a case by case basis, so talk to a doctor if you think you need to, and keep an eye on your heart rate. The full article is linked below:

A few more useful resources:

Generally now, there's a differentiation between post-viral disorder following a covid infection and Long Covid. Many people experience several weeks of fatigue after covid, as well as other Long Covid symptoms, but this is considered post-viral malaise. Symptoms are not considered Long Covid until you continue to experience symptoms for over 3 months.

You're not at that point yet but I regretfully have to inform you that if the symptoms persist (long covid) light sport activities like taking brisk walks or jogging are the way to get rid of them. Don't overexert youself while you're sick but also don't remain in a sort of 'relieving poisture' forever. I hope you'll feel better soon and that some of the tips helped! Thank you for still organizing polls for us, you're a champ <3

I’m probably not doing Covid recovery right but since I have to work, I have been moving around and lifting stuff and carrying things, probably more than I should be. So hopefully that counts toward light exercise? (I’m still trying to rest whenever possible but unfortunately, as of right now this is not me.)

[1800-fight-me]

A New Hope

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (No Y/N)

Rating: T (though as a general rule my blog is 18+)

Warnings: None other than maybe some cursing? This is pure fluff! Also, the reader is 18 and a senior but otherwise has no description 

Word count: 2.2k

Synopsis: Dustin and Mike have to find a sub for hellfire tonight and you have a huge crush on Eddie, coincidence or perfect timing? 

Author’s note: I have Eddie Munson brain rot bad y’all pls scream at me in my askbox about your love for him!!

P.S. Here’s a link to my masterlist if you’d like to check out my other writing! Also! My taglist is always open- leave me a comment or an ask if you’d like to be added!

You sat, legs crossed, on the floor of the nearly empty school hallway as you studied for your upcoming history exam. 

You hummed the new Metallica song that you couldn’t get out of your head as you tried to memorize all of the facts in the textbook before you. 

You looked up as a boy raced down the hall, tripped, and fell. The books and papers in his arms scattered everywhere and you jumped to help him. 

“You okay?” you asked as he scrambled up and grabbed at the papers. 

“Yeah,” he panted and you raised an eyebrow at him as you handed him his book. 

“Where’s the fire?” you asked in a soft teasing tone. 

“Well the metaphoric fire is that I’m going to get my ass handed to me if I don’t find a sub for our D&D game tonight,” the curly haired boy said. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about but good luck with that,” you said as you patted him on the shoulder and turned to go sit back in your spot against the wall. 

“You’ve never heard of D&D?” 

You shook your head as you sat down. 

This apparently meant the kid, who you assumed was a freshman, sat down next to you and launched into an energetic explanation of dungeons and dragons. 

“So, do you want to play? Our club meets tonight!” he said as he gestured to his shirt. 

“I don’t think so…” you started as you tried to let him down easy. 

Your eyes narrowed as you looked at the devil faced logo on his shirt. 

“Why does your shirt look so familiar?” 

You let out a sound that was half gasp, half squeak as you covered your mouth at the realization. 

The boy, who still hadn’t told you his name, looked at you in confusion.  

Of course you recognized that shirt, you had two classes with Eddie Munson and you’d seen him wear it as you stared at him like a lovesick puppy. 

You had the world’s biggest crush on Eddie even though you’d only spoken to him a handful of times. 

You thought Eddie was the prettiest guy in the whole school and anytime he talked to you your shy nature reared its ugly head and you turned into a bumbling idiot. 

“Is, uh, is Eddie Munson in your club?” 

The boy sighed and looked down at the floor. 

“Yeah. It’s his club. You don’t want to go now, right? Cause you think he’s a freak?” he asked dejectedly. 

You took a deep breath and decided to take the leap. This was the day you finally did something about your crush on the metalhead. 

“I’ll come. What time?” you said and tried to keep your tone casual. 

“Really?” the boy exclaimed as he jumped up and started to do a happy dance. 

He told you the time and location, and with your prompting he finally told you his name and you told him yours. 

You stood and grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes. 

“Listen Dustin, I’ll come but I have one condition. You don’t tell Eddie that I only wanted to come after I found out it was his club, okay? You can just tell him I’m interested in learning about D&D,” you said seriously. 

The boy squinted his all too knowing eyes at you, “Riiiiiight.” 

“I’m serious, freshman! Pinky swear it or I won’t come,” you said as you pointed a finger at him then extended your pinky to him. 

He thankfully agreed and pinky swore. 

“So do you think that Eddie could teach me about the game before it starts?” you asked hopefully. 

Dustin grinned and told you to be at the drama room an hour early and he would have Eddie meet you there. 

You nodded and sat back down to continue your studying. He ran off and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of getting to spend some time with Eddie, even if it meant playing a game you knew nothing about. 

__________________

Eddie looked up at the sound of someone’s heavy breathing. 

“What do you want, Henderson?” 

Dustin stood with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath from running all the way across campus. 

“I found a sub!” 

“Good, that means I won’t have to kill you. Does he know how to play?” 

“Well,” Dustin said as he sat down at the picnic table across from Eddie. 

“She,” he said as he emphasized the word, “has never played before.” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Dustin. 

“You found a girl who wants to play D&D?” Eddie asked skeptically. 

“A senior girl,” Dustin said with a wiggle of his eyebrows and Eddie shot him a look of disbelief. 

Dustin told Eddie your name and his eyes widened in surprise. 

“I have a few classes with her,” Eddie said and then mumbled under his breath, “She’s really pretty.” 

Dustin stood and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet in excitement. 

“I told her you’d meet her an hour early to teach her how to play,” Dustin said with a grin. 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, you’re better at teaching than me or Mike,” Dustin replied, sure that Eddie could see right through him but also unwilling to break his pinky promise to you. 

“Alright,” Eddie agreed and Dustin whooped and hollered in excitement as he ran off. 

Eddie couldn’t help but grin. 

“He’s gonna owe me big time when I’m the reason he finally gets a girlfriend,” Dustin muttered to himself as he made his way back to the school building. 

__________________

You twiddled with your fingers nervously as you approached the drama room. 

You knew he’d be nice, he was always sweet to you in the few interactions you’d had with him. You’d observed that he was generally kind to everyone around him, except for the jocks but they nearly always started shit with him first.  

So, you steeled your nerves and walked into the room. 

At the sound of the door opening Eddie looked up from the table where he was setting up what appeared to be pieces of the game and smiled at you. 

You breath caught at the sight of him. 

“H-hi,” you stuttered out. 

“Hey,” he said as he beckoned you over. 

You sat in the chair next to him as he sat in what looked like a throne. 

“Henderson told me you’ve never played before,” he said. 

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion. “Henderson? No, I talked to some curly haired kid named Dustin,” you said. 

He smirked. “Yeah, sorry, same kid, I call Dustin by his last name a lot.” 

“Oh,” you said and looked down, feeling embarrassed. 

“He didn’t tell me, how do you know that little twerp?” 

“Oh I don’t, really. I met him today when he ate it in the hallway and I helped him pick up his stuff.” 

He snorted a laugh. 

“So, if I knew you wanted to learn how to play D&D I would’ve invited you ages ago,” he said with a breathtaking smile. 

You fiddled with your fingers nervously as you said, “Yeah it seems really cool.” 

“Cool?” he questioned. “You do realize half the school thinks I’m a cult leader, right?” 

“Oh you’re not? Damn, I was really hoping to join a cult today,” you joked with a grin. 

He let out a startled laugh. 

“Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart. I guess you’ll just have to settle for the fantasy game. It’ll still shoot your reputation to shit though.” 

It was your turn to snort a laugh. “What reputation? The quiet nerd no one notices unless they want to cheat off me? Who cares.” 

“Hey,” he said softly and you looked up at him. 

His soft brown eyes took you in and wrapped you in warmth. 

“All the best people I know are nerds,” he said with a sweet smile as he reached over and squeezed your hand. 

You smiled bashfully and the feel of his large hand around yours prevented you from forming words. 

He leaned in closer to you and stage-whispered dramatically, “And I’m not just saying that because you let me cheat off you last week.” 

You giggled and he laughed with you. 

“Alright, so the basics of the game,” he said as he dropped both his hands on the top of the table for emphasis. 

He finished his explanation, slowed down by your many, many questions and you looked at him, sure the confusion was evident in your expression. 

“Make sense?” he asked, though his tone sounded unsure of the answer he would receive. 

You think part of your lack of understanding could definitely be from distraction as Eddie spoke to you. It was hard to focus on his words when he moved his hands around so much as he spoke. The large rings on his fingers had you fantasizing about what it would feel like to have his hands on you. 

“Um, sort of? I’m not saying you’re a bad teacher but that is the most confusing thing I’ve ever heard and I’m a huge nerd who’s in advanced classes with all A’s and has a Star Wars obsession.” 

He chuckled and tilted his head as he smiled at you. 

“Don’t worry smarty-pants, you’ll catch on as we play. And the boys and I will help you.” 

“Is the Dungeon Master supposed to help the players?” you teased. 

“Not really, but I make exceptions for pretty girls,” he purred and you flustered. 

You heard the door open and looked up, partially thankful that Eddie’s laser focus would no longer be on you and partially disappointed your time with him alone was over. 

Dustin and several other boys in hellfire tshirts all spilled into the room. 

“Hey!” Dustin said excitedly and you smiled and waved. 

He introduced you to the rest of the group and everyone seemed very enthusiastic about your presence which helped calm your nerves. 

Though the campaign was confusing, you definitely had fun. Everyone was kind and helpful when you didn’t understand. You enjoyed how immersed in the game Eddie and the other club members were. You frequently giggled at Eddie’s theatrics and Mike and Dustin’s reactions to the twists and turns of the game. 

“You can play with us anytime, you did great!” Mike said after the game ended and everyone was packing up. 

You smiled. 

“Yeah, you should totally join hellfire!” Dustin chimed in. 

You opened your mouth to speak but whipped your head around as you heard Eddie say, “Totally.”

“R-really?”

He grinned, “Yeah, we would be honored if a lovely lady such as yourself would consistently grace us with your presence.” He half bowed as he gestured towards you. 

You felt your body temperature spike at the flattery from your crush. 

“Okay, yeah, I’ll join.” 

Everyone cheered and you smiled bashfully. 

Mike and Dustin started talking a mile a minute about getting you a t-shirt and you sitting with them at lunch as they started to herd you out of the room. 

Eddie called your name from where he still stood by the table. 

“Hey, I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you said as you patted them both on the shoulders. 

Everyone else filtered out of the room as you strode back to Eddie where he was picking up the pieces and putting everything away. 

“So, who’s your favorite character from Star Wars?” he asked, clearly wanting to linger in your presence longer. 

“Um, Han Solo,” you said as you handed him a piece. 

His fingers brushed against yours and you felt electricity at the brush of his skin against yours. 

“Really? I would’ve pegged you for a Luke Skywalker fan,” he teased. 

You shrugged, “Nah, there’s something irresistible about a bad boy with a heart of gold.”

You stopped talking and stared at him with wide eyes as you realized you shared too much. 

He bit his full bottom lip to keep from smiling. “What a coincidence, my favorite is Princess Leia. There’s just something so irresistible about a smart, confident, gorgeous woman,” he crooned as he placed his hands on the table and leaned towards you. 

“Interesting,” you said with a smile. 

“Are you free tomorrow night? What do ya say, princess? Want to go out with me?” he asked with a flirtatious smile and tilt of his head. 

“I’d love to, fly boy,” you purred, so proud of yourself for your quick thinking. 

His smile stretched from ear to ear. 

__________________

Bonus scene- 3 months later: 

“I love you, princess,” Eddie said as he pulled you into his body and kissed you. 

“I know,” you said as you smiled and kissed him back. 

He laughed as he shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“You love me, though,” you said with a smile. 

He narrowed his eyes at you as he pulled back and put his hands on his hips. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled his face down to meet yours. You nudged your nose against his. 

“I love you too, baby,” you said, lips against his as you spoke. 

“Oh, thank god,” he mumbled as he kissed you deeply. 

Everything taglist:

@spideysimpossiblegirl @dinandgone @ohpedromypedro @littlemisspascal @tombraider42017 @kirsteng42 @just-here-for-the-moment

Eddie taglist:

@bunnywritesmarvel @crazycookiecrumbles @kindnonny23-2 @kaqua @ali-r3n​ @maskedmistressed​

[scripttorture]

You mention in posts how torture doesn’t make people obedient and usually makes them spiteful (which obviously makes sense), but isn’t it realistic for someone to comply out of fear rather than loyalty? Whether that was giving up information or obeying orders or something else entirely. I imagine it depends on the person, and they would probably still be willing to turn on their torturers if given the chance, but would it be possible for them to obey orders in hopes of avoiding more pain?

This is a much more nuanced and complicated topic then we’re taught to assume.

 When it comes to giving up information it’s pretty clear cut. No, torture can’t lead to accurate information for a lot of interconnected reasons. I have about six separate masterposts covering the reasons for this.

 One of those is the antagonism torture produces. Another is the memory problems torture causes. Another is the effect that the use of torture has on organisations and the chain of command. Another is the effect torture has on torturers.

 Torture drastically increases the chances of memory loss and it also increases the chances of inaccurate memories. So not only is a torture victim less likely to talk, they’re more likely to be wrong if they do talk.

 But the effects on victims aren’t the main reason torture doesn’t work as a way of getting information. You’re assuming that torturers have access to people who have information.

 The reality is that torture destroys an organisation’s ability to gather accurate information. Most information comes from volunteers: when torture comes into play less people volunteer information. This means that an organisation which tortures is more likely to be questioning someone who knows nothing. That person is then abused until they start making things up.

 Because there’s less access to volunteered information and because humans are very bad at telling when someone is lying, a lot of these made up stories are believed. And this then effects who else the organisation arrests and tortures. This creates a sort of spiral, with lies leading to more lies.

 Additionally the torturers themselves make things worse. There’s less quality research on them, but the research and anecdotal accounts create a pretty clear picture of their behaviour. They undermine the chain of command, they lose the skills the originally had as they turn to torture, they’re aggressive, incredibly competitive and they have a… fracturing effect on their organisation.

 Basically they’re incredibly difficult to work with and totally convinced of their own importance. And this effects their colleagues. It totally divides organisations. The worst case I’ve read about involved members of the same organisation killing each other over access to prisoners.

 That’s a short run through of the main factors. Torture, in the legally defined sense, means all of these factors are in play. Plus a few more I’ve omitted to keep this shorter.

 With all of that together you just can’t get accurate information.

 If you want longer posts I’ve made on the subject I suggest looking for the ‘torture doesn’t work’ tag and the ‘torture as interrogation’ tag. You can also read the masterposts. If you want a much more in depth look at why torture consistently fails as a way of getting information I recommend O’Mara’s Why Torture Doesn’t Work and Rejali’s Torture and Democracy.

 O’Mara is a neuroscientist and goes through the effects torture has on the brain in a way that’s accessible, explaining the damage torture causes and how that destroys the evidence torturers claim to be seeking. Rejali’s book is a breeze block but it’s really a must, it is the textbook on torture in a broad sense. He ties together information from across the globe creating a broader picture of what torture does, not just to victims but to societies.

 The question of compliance under threat and pain… is more complicated.

 People can be forced to do some things. That much is obvious from a brief glance at human history and things like slavery. But it’s important to listen to what people in these scenarios say.

 And my opinion, based on what I’ve read, is that what these people say doesn’t support the idea that humans will easily obey instructions when they’re hurt or threatened. I think instead these people are making hard headed, rational choices in absolutely awful situations. I think when we don’t have these experiences of torture or slavery, it’s easy to look at the surface of the situation and assume that pain alone assures obedience. I think that happens because it’s hard for use to understand the rationale when we don’t have that lived experience.

 Let me give some examples. So it probably goes without saying that slavery goes hand in hand with physical abuse. One of the major researchers on slavery, whose data I quote pretty regularly, assumes throughout his writings that pain is the deciding factor which ‘makes’ people obey.

 But he also describes a couple of very obvious consistent patterns in the ways slavers behave. Slavers almost universally do the following things as well as using physical abuse:

Separate enslaved people from their community

Bar enslaved people from other forms of support

Make enslaved people financially/materially reliant on the slavers

Tell enslaved people that going to the police/authorities will lead to the enslaved person being arrested

Try to convince enslaved people that they will be better off if they comply, usually by framing it as a debt to be worked off with promises of riches after a period of time

 Now here’s the thing: we know from studies on cults and studies on ICURE techniques that a lot of these strategies will result in obedience when there is no violence or physical abuse.

 Given that I don’t think we can assume that violence is the deciding factor. In fact I think the evidence we have from forced confessions under torture suggests the violence may lead to less obedience and a lower ‘success’ rate then a set up that used emotional abuse or other exploitative techniques without violence.

 We have two sources of historical data that are used for statistical studies on forced confessions. One is from historical France. We think that this data set only involved torture to force a confession; no other method of coercion just violence. The rate of forced confessions varied a little in different areas but over all it’s about 10%. The second data set is from the ‘London Cage’ a British prison during the second world war. Here we know that torture was combined with blackmail, bribery and other kinds of coercion. The rate of forced confessions there was about 30%.

 And while this is just two studies, while the data is lacking… That is one hell of a jump.

 Let’s circle back to ICURE. ICURE stands for Isolation, Control information, create Uncertainty, Repetition and Emotive responses. It’s a set of techniques which can, sometimes, change someone’s beliefs when it’s applied consistently over a long time.

 Notice the effort slavers put in to isolating their victims. Notice that the behaviour pattern I’m describing means the slavers are creating uncertainty over seeking help and repeating those messages as well as messages that the victims will be better off if they just go along with it.

 Slavers will generally also try to control the information their victims have access to, taking phones and blocking access to news sources and other resources. Now a lot of slavers will transport their victims to other states or countries putting a language barrier in place. They sometimes also use emotive responses in attempts to persuade victims to comply.

 I’ve read multiple accounts where survivors of modern slavery described slavers telling them that the money they were making was being sent to the victim’s family and without it the family would not survive. (Sometimes the slavers do send small amounts to the families of their victims, sometimes they pocket everything.) I’ve also read accounts where gangs of slavers used religion and oaths taken in a religious setting to persuade their victims they’d be punished by God for not complying.

 Even with all of this, all these techniques we know can sometimes ‘work’- lots of people refuse. Lots of people disobey. Lots of people escape. Lots of people actively sabotage the operations the slavers put together.

 And if you look at that same history of slavery, that shows us people can sometimes be forced to work, you’ll see that this has always been true.

 We have records of historic enslaved people attacking slavers, forming organised militias, forming parallel societies, sacking towns, taking over an entire Caribbean island and beating off four European armies in the process. We also have records of smaller acts. Sabotage, worship of banned deities, speaking banned languages, destruction of property, aiding in the escape of others.

 What I’m saying is: this isn’t black and white. The evidence, modern and historical does not paint a clear picture of violence leading to obedience.

 Instead I believe that it shows humans are resilient, stubborn, adaptable creatures. People can survive all kinds of horrible situations. It is more accurate, more human, to assume that people make rational choices.

 Sometimes those choices involve short term compliance while looking for a better option or a way out. But we tend to hear less stories about the people who completely refuse to comply. We tend to treat that as an impossible fiction when it is a recorded historical and modern reality.

 Bringing this back to writing as a general rule the more complicated the act the less likely you can force someone to do it. Because the more complicated it is the more opportunities they’ll have to sabotage it or use it against their abuser.

 I recommend reading up on the history of Haiti pet. Then Brazil via Palmares.

 I’ll end this by bringing it back to those statistics on forced confessions in historical France. Imagine the conditions with me for a moment. Unsanitary, cramped cells. Dehydration, starvation and disease. Plus the kinds of scarring torture that are conjured up in the minds of most Western people when the word ‘torture’ comes up; thumb screws, leg irons that tighten until the bone snaps, whips.

 Picture it. Try to imagine the pain those people went through.

 And remember that 90% of them did not comply long enough to sign their name.

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Sixteen ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3021

Warnings: None

A/n Every chapter, you all make me smile so much <3 Thank you!

Haldir leaves and I let out something halfway between an exhale and a groan.

What. Was. That.

My room, which is a very respectable size, felt like a matchbox as the space between Haldir and I minimized. He went from weeks of keeping a consistent physical barrier between us to ghosting his hands over my arms, my hips, my waist…It’s…new.

And when he held me close, his chest so nearly brushing against my back—

I shake my head against the onslaught of scenarios that run through my mind.

I should not be thinking of him this way.

Haldir is a friend, a guide, an instructor, nothing more.

I let out a deep breath and begin to pace, trying to work off this newfound energy. Haldir and I trained for nearly two hours, I should be exhausted. Instead, I feel wide awake, invigorated, jittery, like I couldn’t possibly go to sleep. I groan, taking my hair out of its bun and letting it fall around me. I stop in my tracks, glancing at the spot where Haldir and I stood so close together just moments ago.

I cannot stay here.

I tear through the open door, turning right and taking the staircase that leads to the first floor. I turn left and, before I know it, I’m standing in front of Alex’s closed door.

I knock.

The door creaks open. “Hey,” he greets, opening it wider to allow me in. “What’s up?”

“I uh,” I purse my lips, having not really thought through my plan. I do need a distraction though, and being out of my room is already helping clear the fog from my brain. My eyes catch a pile of books on his nightstand. “I came to help you research, if that’s okay.”

His face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, of course. I’ve read those three so far,” he gestures to a small stack by the window, “and there’s nothing helpful in them. Everything else in English is fair game. Is there anything specific you want to look into?”

“Fæs.” I’m surprised that the answer comes to me so easily, but as soon I speak the word, I know it’s true — I do want to learn more.

Alex nods slowly. “Yeah, okay, I think I’ve got a couple books on that here. Let me….” He trails off, spinning in a circle as he searches for a specific volume. “Ah.” He squats down and grabs a book near the foot of his bed, reaching it up to me.

An image of Haldir, crouched on the ground, hand warm against my ankle, staring up at me with such intensity, so much confidence—

Alex stands and I look to the ceiling, trying to will away the image and the feelings that come rushing along with it.

“What makes you want to learn about fæs? Isn’t that an elf thing?”

I purse my lips, stalling until the embarrassment fades enough to look Alex in the eye. “Haldir mentioned that humans have their own version of a fæ — a little weaker, a little different, but generally the same concept.” An idea begins to take form, and I roll with it. “I was wondering if—assuming that our fæs remained unchanged between our homeworld and Arda—well, if we could use it somehow, tap into it and reclaim our memories. If anything were to remember, wouldn’t it be our spirits?”

Alex nods slowly, a grin tugging at the edges of his lips. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Great thinking! Let me know if you find anything.”

He settles into the couch, leaving the bed for me. Gratefully, I cozy up against the pillows. I open the book, skimming the introductory chapter, which is basically just a summary of the core concepts Haldir has already explained to me. When I’m on chapter three, the sky passes firmly into night, and even the plethora of candles Alex has lit aren’t enough to keep my eyes from straining.

I pull my knees to my chest and lean forward, glancing over at my friend. His cheeks — which had been gaunt when we first reunited, now take a healthy shape. His shoulders no longer hold vestiges of tension — they lean relaxed, leisurely, against the back of the couch. Even in the limited light, he squints his eyes and continues to read, seeming intent on soaking up as much knowledge as he can.

I rest my chin on my knees. “I need to ask you something.”

He looks up, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Okay?”

“Are you alright?”

He sighs, shifting in his seat. “Cosima…”

“No,” I protest. I don’t care if it’s uncomfortable, he needs to talk about things. He’s been bottling it up since he arrived in this world and it hasn’t done anyone any good. “I mean it.”

Alex groans, shaking his head. “Fine, okay. It’s…strange.” He pauses, but I wait, holding out hope that he’ll continue. He does so, slowly. “I’ve…gotten myself to accept that I’m in a different world, but I can’t wrap my mind around the how. That’s stressful. We don’t have a solid plan to return home, nor do we know if we’ll find one. That’s depressing. And, I have flashes and snippets of memories, but otherwise, I feel like I don’t know who I am.”

My heart breaks. Here my friend is, hurting, lost…

And I’ve left him completely alone.

Alex tilts his head to the side, contemplating. “But I do feel better than when we arrived, or even just from a few days ago. Having things to do, feeling useful and like I have agency for the first time…it’s really good for me. And, well,” he dips his head then raises it again, leveling his eyes on me. “It’s helped me realize something else — that I owe you an apology.”

I blink in surprise. I’ve been the one that has pretty much abandoned and ignored him. I should be apologizing.

“On the road, I said some pretty mean things, and I isolated you from your friends and tried to take control. I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I was…” he sighs, shaking his head, “scared out of my mind. I already felt like I couldn’t do anything to fix the problem, and then on top of that I felt like you had completely given up and it was my job to save us both. And I know now that’s not the case, but for a while…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re just more adaptable than I am, I guess.”

I push myself off the bed, cross the room, and sit next to him on the small couch. Automatically, he throws an arm over my shoulder, the movement so familiar and easy that he must have done it a thousand times before. I lay my head on his shoulder, the bone there pressing against my ear.

I take a deep breath. “If we had really been kidnapped, or injured, or anything more realistic than what actually happened,” he gives a small, tired laugh, the movement shaking his shoulder, ���you would’ve been the one to get us out. I know it. Even now, you’re the one putting in all the hard work to get us home. I’m sorry I’ve pretty much left you to handle it alone.”

He squeezes my upper arm gently. “I appreciate it, but I don’t blame you. I get it.” He shrugs again, a measure of sadness creeping into his voice. “It’s not like you remember anyone enough to miss them. If you have people you like here, of course you’d focus on them.”

I feel my lips pull into a guilty frown. “They like you too, you know. You all just need to spend some more time together—”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, pushing a smile onto his face. “It’s okay, honestly — we just don’t click. But I have you, and Baranor and I get along well, and I have this project to work on. It’s enough for me.”

I sigh, resting my head against his chest. I hope that’s true.

{***}

At breakfast, Lavandil and I make plans to meet at her shop. She gives me directions and I hurry up the stairs to my room, changing out of my tunic and leggings and into something a little more fun for my first day of work. I settle on a dark purple gown, one that billows down my arm in puffy gossamer sleeves and has a slight, sparkly train. I’m probably a bit overdressed, but knowing Lavandil’s extravagant wardrobe, I’ll fit in just fine. I bound down the staircase, eager to discover the market and the shop. I turn left, intent on exiting the building.

And crash into the middle of someone’s chest.

Hands grip my upper arms, steadying me as I stumble back. Once I’m righted, I look up, and my mouth falls open.

“Cosima—”

“Haldir—”

Both of us freeze, having spoken at the same time. I purse my lips, waiting for him to go first. He raises an eyebrow, evidently expecting the same of me.

But I can’t make the words happen. His hands on my arms send my mind right back to the tension of last night, to the room that started light and open and turned more intimate than it should as the night went on.

Haldir’s arms fall to his sides. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you turning the corner. Are you alright?”

I nod, my eyes darting from his chest clothed in a cobalt blue tunic up to his eyes. The intensity from last night is gone, now replaced with a noticeable degree of hesitance.

Interesting.

Did he feel something last night, too? Or does he know I did, and now feels awkward around me?

That last thought sends a wave of stress through me. Was I horribly obvious? Have I messed everything up?

“Are you off to Lavandil’s shop,” he inquires, pulling my mind away from these anxiety-inducing thoughts.

“Yes.”

He quirks a smile. “Then I imagine you will be seeing a lot of my brother today. He has a tendency to hang around there.”

“Probably a result of him being in love with the shop-owner,” I quip, voice going high with nerves.

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose that would do it.”

We fall into awkward silence.

Haldir clears his throat. “Well, enjoy your day.”

“You too,” I nod, crossing paths with him to exit the building.

Once outside, I take in a gulping breath.

Did I create all that weirdness? Or is he struggling to figure out how to act around me, too? And why?

Things have never been strained or awkward between myself and Haldir. Once he got over his initial suspicion of me, we got along easily. I feel like he understands me better than the others and, if I had to pick a favorite, as Rumil prompted me not so long ago, it would be, without question, the supposedly-stern Marchwarden leading our company. And, based on the amount of time he spends with me of his own accord, I would say he enjoys my presence, too.

So, that begs the question, what could have happened to turn all that ease on its head and replace it with stilted, awkward, unsure interactions? We were fine until last night—

I suck in a breath.

My brain, apparently useless until I looked the issue straight in the eye, starts piecing together instances of my time with Haldir, forming a terrifying and exhilarating picture.

Sleeping between me and the entrance to our camp so I wouldn’t be frightened. Spending hours alone with me lying on a blanket staring up at the stars. The way he panicked and looked after me when I had my migraine. Big things like that and smaller ones, too — the way he teases me, the way he always makes sure I’m cared for, whether that means sharing from his canteen or sending me with food when I’m likely to miss dinner. The way he’s conscious of my fears—heights, orcs, you name it—and provides support without coddling me, enabling me to handle and face them on my own. The way his arms, so gentle yet so secure, held me close, even for just the smallest of moments.

Could we…have feelings for each other?

Could this rapid and strong attachment to an ellon I met mere weeks ago be something other than friendship?

With a sinking feeling in my gut, the momentary rush of excitement falls into something much more sinister. Something that, in any other world would be a wonderful, thrilling feeling—the one I am developing feelings for maybe, potentially, might see me the same way—is here, horrifying.  

Because elves live forever and love only once.

And a human lifespan is dismally short.

Rumil’s face after our conversation yesterday, crestfallen and saddened, comes to my mind.

If my mere friendship with these ellyn will cause them grief when I’m gone, then even entertaining these thoughts about Haldir….

It’s deplorable.

From the heart of the city, the bell chimes. I’m late to meet Lavandil.

I shove down the ache that makes my lips quiver and hurry down the path that will lead me to the market.

The distraction of working with Lavandil will be my lifeline.

I cannot allow my feelings for Haldir progress any further. So, though I’m not sure how effective I’ll be, I swear not to think about him for the rest of the day.

{***}

“What happened last night between you and Haldir?”

Damn.

I made it two hours.

I swallow, trying to seem busy as I hang a tapestry on a display. “What?”

Lavandil comes up beside me, using her height to hang the art properly. “Rumil told Orophin who told me that Haldir came back from training with you and seemed quite flustered.”

My body runs hot. “Did he?”

“Mhm,” she nods decisively. “Apparently he returned to the room in a rush, wouldn’t say a thing, and then spent over three hours at the training grounds, sparring quite harshly with some of the guard.”

Even though the tapestry is hung, I pretend to fuss with it, not brave enough to meet Lavandil’s eyes. “Nothing happened. Maybe he just wanted a better workout — I can’t imagine I was much of a challenge.” I try for a joke, and mercifully, she gives me a pity laugh.

Her demeanor softens. “Cosima, you know there’s nothing wrong with having an attraction, or even feelings.”

“Of course there’s something wrong with it,” I shriek, much louder than I meant to. I look at her with wide eyes, surprised by my outburst.

Thankfully, no one is in the shop, and Lavandil only regards me with calm eyes, no judgement in them.

“I’m sorry,” I hurry to apologize, sitting myself in a chair at a nearby table. On top of it sits a beautiful garnet tablecloth — Lavandil’s work. She sits across from me.

“It’s alright,” she smiles kindly, resting her elbows on the table to mirror me. “I had a similar disposition when I realized I loved Orophin.”

“I don’t love him,” I correct quickly.

She puts her hands up in the sign for surrender, though her bottom lip pulls like she’s trying not to make a face.

“I don’t,” I insist, putting effort into keeping my tone non-angry. I lower my voice, worried, perhaps irrationally, that Haldir himself will go waltzing by and hear my dreadful confession. “It’s, at most, an interest, and probably not even that. Likely more of a curiosity.”

“Well, interests are nothing to be ashamed of.” Her tone matches my low volume and carries in it a gentleness I could never hope to emulate.

“Yes, they do!” My voice drops to nearly a whisper. “Lavandil, he is an elf. You know I’m human. The two don’t mix well.”

She huffs. “There’s nothing to say that. An elleth here, Arwen—”

“Is walking into a tragedy,” I cut her off.

Lavandil’s eyes narrow. “Too many people see it that way, and it is getting quite old. Do you know what I see? Two souls in love. Though their futures are bleak and incompatible, their presents are filled with joy and love and the connection that can only come from two fæs who want each other so badly finally bonded. They would still face pain if they ignored their love for each other — so why not give themselves what joy they can?”

“But she will die—”

Now it’s Lavandil’s turn to interrupt. “Arwen is fully grown. She is wise, and I trust that she knows herself well enough to make the choices she has. Her life is ultimately her own. She can spend it how she pleases.”

I press my lips together, head falling to stare at the deep red tablecloth. Despite Lavandil’s conviction, her words do nothing to allay my fears.

The only thing that awaits an elf bonded with a human is grief and death.

Arwen may have made her choice, but so have I made mine.

“Rumil said elves can take centuries to fall in love. Is that true?”

Lavandil pauses, caught off guard with my change in topic. “I-in some cases, yes. More that it could potentially take that long for an elf to admit they are in love. Often, even if they are not ready to accept it, their fæs know. And even then, that is the timeline in the most rare of cases. You know, for Orophin and I it only took a matter of—”

I raise my eyes to her, pleading. “Lavandil.”

She sighs, staring at me like she wishes I had asked her something else. “Fine, yes. Elves fall slower than humans.”

I take in a deep breath, nodding.

Good.

Because if I have only just noticed these feelings, chances are, if Haldir were to follow suit, he is way behind. The instance Lavandil described from last night, the other hints that show he might be feeling something…I can end them now.

I have time to stop this.

I have time to save him.

A/n So, funny thing, @errruvande got pretty close to guessing Cosima’s reaction to realizing her feelings for Haldir, so shout out to Liza!!! Seriously though, love her, love her blog, I’d definitely recommend checking her account out! Thank you all for reading! 

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande 

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

[ithinkofnealcassady]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/James Potter Characters: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, Marlene McKinnon Additional Tags: a quick little tumblr drabble xoxo posting here for those of u who dont have tumblr, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), theyre in love!!! and adorable!!! Summary:

Remus sticks his finger right through the wall of James’s pot. “Glory hole,” he says.

James looks up at Remus, wounded. Sitting on the short wooden stool as he is, his knees are bent up by his ears. He has wet clay smeared to his elbows, on the lenses of his glasses, at the tip of his nose. “Dude,” he says.

“I think we’re doing quite well, really,” Sirius says. He lifts his own pot, currently the least lopsided of the bunch, but the too-wet base sticks to the table. Sirius peers at them through the open bottom like using a telescope. “Here I am, eating my words.”

drabble commissioned by @gilflupin carter mlove... genius big brain carter... best commission idea ever... i hope this satisfies your prompt, which was (for the sake of everyone else) sirius, james, and remus making pottery together!! xoxoxo wolfstarbucks nation wake up!!

FULL TEXT UNDER CUT!

Remus sticks his finger right through the wall of James’s pot. “Glory hole,” he says.

James looks up at Remus, wounded. Sitting on the short wooden stool as he is, his knees are bent up by his ears. He has wet clay smeared to his elbows, on the lenses of his glasses, at the tip of his nose. “Dude,” he says.

“I think we’re doing quite well, really,” Sirius says. He lifts his own pot, currently the least lopsided of the bunch, but the too-wet base sticks to the table. Sirius peers at them through the open bottom like using a telescope. “Here I am, eating my words.”

“This was going to be a nice pot,” James says, watching his damaged piece buckle on its weak side like Pisa.

“It’s still a nice pot,” Remus says.

“What, are you guiltless?” James says. “You destroy the fruits of my oh so earnest labor and then you sit there like doing so didn’t snag a single thread of your luscious moral tapestry, fuck you, Remus.”

Remus offers a big, bright grin that catches on his eyeteeth. “It’s funny. That’s more important than whether or not it hurts your pride.”

“This—this is my pride,” James says. “Understand, Remus, that there is a subliminal metaphor within everything. You single-handedly—single-fingeredly, even—just eviscerated everything I have worked to create in my seventeen years of life.”

There’s a rap on the edge of their desk. James startles about a foot into the air.

Sirius, beside him, looks lazily up through his lashes, then offers Professor Burbage a charming smile. “Hello, dear.”

“I should’ve known better than to propose a creative assignment,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Make art like muggles do! Get into the cultural mindset! It’s hands-on, a break from the readings, the kids will love it! Am I an idiot?”

“It wasn’t your best idea,” Remus says.

“Just don’t make… a mess,” Burbage says, slumping away like they carve years off her life.

Sirius pinches a piece of clay off his fallen pot and hucks it at Burbage’s retreating back. It sticks in her hair.

Remus huffs. “Boring, Padfoot,” he says. He holds his palm out expectantly. Sirius delightedly hands over another wad of clay, which Remus places on the neat stretch of the second phalanx of his middle finger, then flicks it at Marlene one table over. It hits her ear, a glancing blow, before dropping to the floor. Marlene swats a hand mindlessly, like she assumes a fly or a loose strand of hair is the culprit. Remus waits a moment, then flicks a second piece of clay with the skill of a trained marksman; it hits the same spot. A third piece, and Marlene scowls into the air, looking for the origin. She finds, of course, nothing telling, as Remus is hunched over and carving zig-zagged stripes into his pot with singular focus, Sirius is forming a generous clay phallus, and James has dropped his head onto his folded arms, staring despondently at his ruined pot.

“I’ll kill you all with one blow,” Marlene says anyway.

“Good afternoon to you too, Miss Presumptuous,” Remus says.

“Mar, Remus ruined my pot,” James says, holding it tenderly aloft, the corpse of a child. So new to life. So naive yet. “Look at this.”

“Ha, glory hole,” she says.

“Ha!” says Remus while James scowls.

“Unbelievable,” James says. “You all prefer it when I’m miserable.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll make it up to you in droves later, you wet fucking fart,” Marlene says. “Now stop throwing stuff at me, I’m trying to finish this drawing and frankly I think it’s going spectacularly well.”

“I hope someone pokes a glory hole in it,” James says.

Marlene flips him the bird, then turns back to her desk, where she finds Dorcas doodling stars and hearts on her paper. “Well, fuck. This was going to be art, Dorcas. The fruit of my labor, Dorcas.”

“Karma,” James says. He reaches out a hand and Sirius gives him a bit of clay. James smushes it against Sirius’s cheek, which has Sirius snapping his teeth at James’s fingers. James withdraws sharply, tucking his hand to his chest with reproach. “Stay away. I haven’t had my tetanus potion recently.”

Remus presses his knee to James’s under the table. “If you add a little mouthpiece to that abomination of a pot, I reckon we could smoke out of it.”

James’s mouth falls open. “I forgive you. I forgive you, I forgive you—” he leans forward to smack a kiss onto Remus’s lips, grabs a fresh hunk of clay from the wet pile at the center of their table, then gets about rolling it.

Remus, meanwhile, has lost his aloof veneer; he’s bright red from forehead to collarbones, lurid enough to hide his freckles. Sirius looks between the two of them consideringly, then leans forward, presenting his cheek to James, who drops a kiss there to keep things even.

“We are going to figure this out,” James says, grinning with his bright madman eyes and his tie askew, “and we are going to get absolutely snockered. Lily taught me how to smoke out of an apple, you know, and this has got to be easier than that. It’s just got to be.” He rolls the now flattened piece of clay around his pinky finger, then presses the bottom of that cylinder to his pot’s glory hole. Sirius gives a fake, high-pitched, sexual whine that has half the class shooting them looks, but James doesn’t notice. He inches his pinky out of the clay tube. It promptly collapses. He stares at it, crestfallen. “Aw, pot,” he says. Then, affronted, to Remus, “Well, yours is good!”

Remus pokes his pot. It had better be good; his mother is a ceramicist by trade. “Yeah,” he says. James stares at it, brows knit. “Jamie, you can have mine,” Remus says. “Alright? Does that make you feel better.”

James’s scowl softens at the edges. “Yeah,” he says.

“What about me?” Sirius says, fringe falling in his eyes as he violently chucks another clump of clay at Mary MacDonald across the room. She hurls one back, hitting Sirius on the forehead, then pumps her fist proudly. Sirius is wiping splatters of wet clay out of his eyebrows as he clarifies, “What do I get, then?”

James holds his failed pot out, spout hanging elephant-trunk limp. “Glory hole,” he says.

[bring-the-storm]

Rated: T

Word Count: 1833

written for @mlcorefour appreciation week

After accidentally panicking and telling basically the whole world that she's dating a member of the hero team, Ladybug must someone to fake-date her, and fast. Of course Carapace suggests the obvious solution: she can just date his girlfriend for a few weeks. As the plan dissolves into chaos, the four learn what it means to be the heart of a team, while also getting into more shenanigans than humanly possible along the way.

---

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Those were the first words to tumble from Chat Noir’s lips, his smile too overeager, too happy to be genuine. 

“I didn't-”

“Girl, you have GOT to be kidding me,” Rena Rouge interrupted, whirling on her the second her feet touched the rooftop. “I thought we were friends!?! Who is it? Pegasus? Viperion?”

“I thought he was dating Ryuko,” Carapace jumped in.

“I’m not-” Ladybug opened her mouth to explain, only to be interrupted. She couldn’t really blame Alya (who only had fifteen Ladynoir pinterest boards and showed them off to anyone who so much as mentioned the superhero duo). 

“Oh, right,” Rena Rouge nodded. “Otherwise she totally would’ve been my next guess.” The fox heroine turned to her desperately. “Please don’t tell me it’s Tigresse. I’ve been working on my Tigerella fanfic for months.”

“Guys, can you calm down for-”

“King Monkey, maybe?” Carapace guessed as Chat plopped down on the edge of the building, failing at not looking miserable. “He doesn’t really seem like he’s her type, but you never know.”

Rena Rogue cut her off again. “I swear, if it’s Vesperia and I didn’t see it coming…” The heroine buried her face in her hands. “Ladybug you better explain. I don’t know what to do with my life anymore!”

Instantly, three sets of eyes locked on her, begging for clarification. Ladybug took a deep breath.

“Guys, I’m not dating anyone.”

“But you said-” Rena protested. 

“I know and I’m sorry!” she cried, trying not to look at Chat as her face heated. Not that it meant anything. Obviously.  “The reporters kept asking all these questions and I just wanted to get out of there and it slipped out.”

It was hard to miss the flash of relief in Chat’s eyes.

“So, let me get this straight,” Carapace said, staring at her incredulously. “Your grand plan to get out of a stressful press conference was to tell everyone in Paris on live television that you’re dating someone on our team?”

It sounded a lot worse when he said it out loud.

“I panicked,” Ladybug admitted with a wince.

Carapace breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, at least you can just admit that and everything will go back to normal.”

Rena Rouge and Chat Noir glanced at each other knowingly and almost simultaneously burst into giggles, as if he had said something hilarious.

“That doesn’t sound like a good sign,” Ladybug swung her yo-yo in an anxious circle.

“Trust me when I say it will not work out like that,” Chat Noir smirked somewhat bitterly in the light of the setting sun.

Rena waved her hand across the sky as if she could already read the headlines written on the clouds. “Shocking Reveal - Ladybug Tells All.”

“I could just tell them the truth,” she tried to protest.

“Heroes Attempt to Cover up the Truth,” Alya finished, stopping the yo-yo’s frantic circle with her flute.

Ladybug groaned, wanting to kick something, preferably Hawkmoth’s stupid face.

“And of course it's right around the anniversary,” Chat Noir reminded her.

“Uh, no it’s not,” Carapace glanced at her partner like he was crazy. 

And he kinda was. She distinctly remembered a picnic with a certain kitty on the rooftops near where she ‘fell from heaven’ as they watched a parade of small children stream by, wearing Stoneheart cosplay only a few months ago.

“Not that anniversary,” Chat Noir deflated a little. “I was talking about Oblivio.”

Her brain screeched to a halt. 

“This just keeps getting better and better,” she groaned. 

Carapace and Rena exchanged a glance. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“After a certain Ladyblogger posted a photo of me and Chat,” she locked her gaze on Rena, relishing the moment a little too much. “Some of the fans seem to have gotten it into their heads that Kitty and I are destined to get together on that day.

“Generally involving a week full of frustrated Ladynoir-shipping akumas,” Chat jumped in. “And one exhausted and pointedly not together bug and cat.”

Ladybug giggled. “Okay, you have to admit, some of them are kinda funny.”

The cat hero snorted. “I wouldn’t call Aphrodite funny.”

“What about the fanfic style one?” she nudged his knee playfully, trying to see if banter would help cheer him up. “You have to admit, throwing mugs at the akuma during the coffee shop AU was the best.”

A hint of a real smirk flickered across her partner’s lips. 

“You called me sweet when you dumped all that sugar in my hair,” she reminded him.

“It was an accident!” he protested with a grin.

“Yeah, right,” Ladybug crossed her arms. “You were supposed to throw it at him. You totally did it on purpose!”

Chat clutched his chest, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes. “I can’t believe you would have such little faith in me, m’lady!!”

Both of them somehow missed the knowing glance their best friends shot each other.

All their weapons buzzed simultaneously, doubtlessly with an update from the news. Chat Noir flicked open his baton and sighed, showing the headline to the rest of them.

“Which of Our Heroes is Ladybug’s Boyfriend?”

Her partner scrolled through the article, grumbling under his breath.

Carapace raised his eyebrows under his hood. “Bold of them to assume you don't have a girlfriend.”

“I wish I could say that it’s bold of them to assume I’m dating anyone at all,” she sighed. “But I kinda started this so I guess I can’t blame them.”

“THAT’S IT!” Rena Rouge leapt to her feet, nearly knocking her boyfriend’s shell over the edge of the roof.

“What?” Ladybug glanced at her comrades to check if they had the slightest idea of what was going on. 

“You told the press that you’re dating one of us on the hero team, right?” the fox heroine asked excitedly.

“Yes?” Ladybug answered hesitantly. “You were there too.”

“Not the point,” her friend waved the comment off. “The only solution that doesn’t end in even more akuma attacks is fairly obvious.”

The other three glanced at each other to see if they had gotten it.

“COME ON GUYS,” Alya sighed. “Ladybug just has to pretend to be dating one of us for a few weeks. Think about it. They go out on a few dates, cue general excitement from Paris about the first official hero couple, tragically break up after a few weeks and everything goes back to normal.”

Ladybug shrugged. “I guess it could work.”

“Why does this sound way too similar to the basic plot for any fake dating fanfic?” Chat Noir hissed in the nearby turtle hero’s ear. 

Or hood by where his ear should be. 

“Probably because that's exactly what it is,” Carapace whispered back. 

Rena smirked.

“And I happy to know of an available cat who would be happy to take-”

Her triumphant Ladynoir wingwoman grin fell from her face as the duo shook their heads in unison.

“Bad idea,” Chat Noir admitted. “I don’t want to think about the worldwide catastrophe that could occur after out ‘breakup.’”

“It would be like last Valentine’s day, but infinitely worse,” Ladybug jumped in, wincing at the memory of yet another love akuma that nearly burned Paris to the ground in its mission to make its OTP kiss.

Not that kissing Chat was such a bad thing. He was kinda good-

She cut off that mental track before it could get anywhere.

“Well, who else are you going to fake-date?” Alya asked. “I mean, I would totally be up for the job, but…”

She gestured at her boyfriend.

Carapace’s silence spoke for itself.

“Uh, babe?” Rena nudged him with her boot.

“Yeah?” he said with a grin.

“You can’t actually be considering this.”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “It’s not like anyone in Paris will know any better.”

“Hawkmoth could target me!” Alya pointed out. “He knows where I live!”

Carapace shrugged. “I mean, he could do that anyway.”

“Still, this could…” her voice trailed off. “Uh- why you aren’t fighting me on this.”

The turtle hero shrugged. “I guess I don’t see a problem with it, dudette. As long as both you and Ladybug are cool with it, then I’m not going to stop you.”

“You’re supposed to be my voice of reason!” Rena Rouge stared at him like he had just admitted to secretly being Chloé’s BFF. “Are you secretly a sentimonster or something?”

Nino raised his hands innocently. “I’m just trying to be a supportive boyfriend and help you reach your dreams.”

“By handing me off to the first bug who wants to date me?”

Carapace fell back dramatically. “Babe, did you see Ladybug today,” he cried in an impression of his girlfriend's voice. “The way she stuck that landing and then she winked at me and I swear I died. No offense babe, but if Ladybug ever asked me out, I would break up with you in an instant.”

Rena turned bright red.

Ladybug giggled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You’re cool with this?” Rena spun on her.

“I mean, if Carapace is,” she smirked. “Sounds like it's the closest to a realistic relationship I’m going to get.”

Rena Rouge buried her head in her hands. “Hold on. I need to go scream on a rooftop.”

“Take all the time you need, babe,” Carapace called after her.

Ladybug smirked, grabbing her hand and kissing it like Chat would sometimes do for her (which totally didn’t leave her in a stuttering mess afterwards. Obviously.). “Yeah, babe. Take all the time you need.”

Rena Rouge turned red and fled.

“Whoops,” Ladybug turned back to Carapace with a sheepish grin on her face. “Too much?”

“Just because you’re fake dating my girlfriend doesn’t mean you can steal her,” Carapace nodded. “Don’t worry. She’ll be back in a few minutes and fully on board with this.”

“I should go and talk to her,” Ladybug said as she bit her lip nervously. She waved to Chat in a TOTALLY NORMAL WAY as she leapt over the rooftops.

***

The ribbons on her pigtails fluttered in the evening wind as Chat Noir watched her vault over the rooftop after her possible future fake-girlfriend.

Carapace whistled. “Dude, you’ve got it bad.”

Adrien’s face heated as he punched the turtle hero's arm. “Shut up.”

“Have you considered telling her that, you know, you still love her?”

Chat Noir laughed bitterly. “And watch her heart rip in half as she tells me yet again that we could never be more than friends? No thanks.” He glanced away. “I’d rather give up my miraculous.”

The sounds of the city that echoed off the rooftops awkwardly filled the void between them.

Finally, Chat Noir asked. “So, wait, are we actually doing this?”

Carapace nodded. “We’re superheroes. It’s our duty to protect Paris. If the only way for us to do that is for my girlfriend to pretend-date yours, then it’s a sacrifice we have to make.”

[smmahamazing]

Rounding out your Valentine’s Day with one last fic for the @inudayoflove2021 !!!

Summary: It’s White Day. Inuyasha and Kagome have been dating for a month, and Inuyasha has planned a nice evening for the two of them. Except Inuyasha has something a little sweet prepared for Kagome in hopes of getting a little steamy with her. What happens when Kagome has a similar idea? Set in the Cowboy Blues Universe. Rated E for smut.

Let me tell you, this chapter has truly taken it out of me. This is my first foray into writing smut, and y’all that is hard. But in the end, it’s been worth all the trouble in the world. Next month exactly will be ONE YEAR since I started writing. And that’s kind of crazy to me. I have six posted stories with an entire google drive of wips that scream at me day in and day out LOL. All because of a little White Day one shot that grew into a 23k story, with another 8k of one-shots, all set in the same universe. I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate than with Inukag’s first time! Thank you so much to @clementinesgulag , who has also drawn a very sweet 😏😏😏piece of artwork for this chapter, and I’m so excited for y’all to see it!!! If you haven’t already, check out all the different fics with the Day of Love Collection on AO3!

Anyways, I’m dedicating this chapter to all you guys out there. This fandom has been an amazing part of my life this past year, and I’m so happy to be involved with such a great group of people. This past year has been crazy, but you guys have been worth it. I hope you all enjoy!!!

A special shoutout to @underwater0phelia for helping me with a few trouble sections! You're the greatest darling❤❤❤

Inuyasha loved routine. More specifically, he loved routine whenever his brain started to think too much about certain subjects.

Today was Mr. Tanaka's quarterly oil change. Mr. Tanaka had been a loyal customer dating back to the first week he had officially opened his doors for business. He told Inuyasha that he reminded him of a younger version of himself, and that he was happy to see a young man such as himself take a risk into opening his own business. Mr. Tanaka's kind words had really helped motivate Inuyasha through the good times and the bad times that first year, and so to thank him, Inuyasha gave the older gentleman a fair discount on any and all services, and let no one else service the vehicle.

Over the years, Inuyasha gained enough employees that he really didn't need to service any of the vehicles that came into the shop. He dealt with enough paperwork and general bureaucratic shit that, most days, he willingly let the boys take care of the line up.

But days like today were nice. Fantastic, really. Loud, heavy alternative rock blared through the speakers of a giant stereo as Inuyasha made quick work of the tiny honda. It was easy for Inuyasha to get all wrapped up in the monotony of his work. Today, Inuyasha had been more anxious than usual, so he decided to go ahead and perform a full diagnostic package on Mr. Tanaka's car. The extra work would help keep Inuyasha's mind focused.

The problem was that White Day was next week, and Inuyasha had absolutely no idea what to get Kagome. They had only been dating for about a month and Inuyasha was struggling with the decision of how grand of a gesture he wanted to make.

When he was growing up, the giving norm was usually either chocolate or candy, and sometimes flowers depending on the relationship of the giver towards the recipient. Given the short amount of time they had been together, chocolate seemed like a good direction to head towards, but Inuyasha had been overanalyzing the entire situation for several days now.

The main reason for his anxiety came from his already deep feelings for a girl he's only known for a month. Inuyasha truly enjoyed talking to and spending time with Kagome. They were constantly texting each other; asking a variety of questions about their lives and the things that they thought defined them. Random pictures broke up the mass of their text bubbles. Kagome had been given leeway from her boss to experiment with all different kinds of cakes, so practically everyday was an image of a new cake, decorated all cutesy for the romantic holiday.

The rational part of his brain told him to just get her a nice box of chocolates and flowers and enjoy a nice evening together. But Kagome deserved more effort than just purchasing a random box of chocolates. An ideal gift would be to make her something - she seemed like the type of girl to love homemade gifts - but to Inuyasha, the idea was….daunting, and a little embarrassing. Inuyasha knew enough about cooking and baking to just get him by, but he didn’t feel confident enough to make something for a woman whose career was based on cooking and baking. Not like Kagome would laugh at him or make fun of anything he made, but it was an insecurity Inuyasha couldn't seem to shake when put in front of his professional girlfriend.

It didn't help that the irrational part of his brain wanted to give her something more than just chocolate.

Despite being together for about a month, they hadn't had sex yet. Not because neither of them didn't want to, they just …never brought the subject up. The more they talked, the more Inuyasha began to realize how much he liked her, and he didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize the easy going relationship they had now.

In reality, he just didn't want to scare her off by demanding sex. Nor did he want to demand sex from her, he just wanted things to happen naturally. Before he knew it, a month had flown by.

Several hours passed before Inuyasha finally decided he couldn’t keep Mr. Tanaka's car in the shop any longer. He dragged his feet to the hand washing sink, taking his time to scrub the grease from his hands and the dirt off his forearms. 

Mr. Tanaka always came first thing in the morning before most people were functioning enough to stop by, so the waiting room had several more people in it then when he started working on the car.

"Mr. Tanaka," Inuyasha announced, grabbing a free computer at the front desk to pull up the service information. Mr. Tanaka stood with a smile on his face and walked up to him.

"She's all good I assume?"

"Yup, fit as a fiddle. Gave her a good once over, which is why it took a little longer than normal. On the house."

"Ahh, Inuyasha my boy, you're too good to me."

Inuyasha chuckled as the computer calculated the total, and he prompted Mr. Tanaka to insert his credit card into the card reader.

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" Inuyasha asked. 

"Oh, I'm going to spend the afternoon with the grandchildren, maybe go out for a stroll and a banana split at the nice ice cream joint not far from my house. How about yourself?"

"Just take out for me and my girl tonight, nothing exciting,"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, " Mr. Tanaka said with a glint in his eyes.  "Every evening with your woman is special. "

Inuyasha snorted at his statement, grabbing the receipt that just finished printing and giving it to the older man. "Alright old man, I'll see you in another three months."

"Alright then, Inuyasha. Don't work too hard now!" Mr. Tanaka says with a sly look on his face. Inuyasha merely rolled his eyes at the joke the older gentleman made every time he brought his car in. Inuyasha always thought him a strange man; despite doing good business, not everyone wanted to stay and chat with a hanyou, but Inuyasha tried not to think about it too much. If his mother was alive, she'd say something about how "people can always surprise you" or "there's still good in the world, Inuyasha". He tried to think about those theoretical statements when he was faced with an actual nice person.

With Mr. Tanaka's car finished, Inuyasha walked back out to the garage to finish cleaning up his station. There was some paperwork to be done, but he was hoping today would be busy enough to justify him working on the floor instead.

'Maybe a little snack first,' Inuyasha thought as he held his hand up to his rumbling stomach. Now the only question was, sweet or savory? Mr. Tanaka and his grandkids were still on the edge of his brain, thinking maybe Kagome would be up for getting a carton of rocky road tonight to share.

That was when the idea hit him. It came in small bursts, just split second images his brain conjured up to give him an idea of what it would look like. It was something Inuyasha had never done before. Kikyo kept their sex life pretty...vanilla. Not that this idea was all that out there, but the whole thing would definitely feel a little odd to someone who really only used the missionary position in his last relationship.

It was definitely something Inuyasha would probably like - just the thought of it was already starting to wake up his lower brain - but would Kagome? Would she misconstrue the situation somehow? Would she be into that kind of thing?

One thing was for certain; Inuyasha needed to continue this line of thought in his private office, not amongst all his employees. He found his assistant manager and confirmed their current appointments for the next several hours before locking himself in the office to come up with ways to make this little "idea" of his work.

~~~

It was just starting to get dark when Kagome pulled up to her normal spot at Inuyasha's apartment. She killed the engine as soon as she put the car in park, but didn't make a move yet to open the door and make her way over to his apartment. This way, Kagome wouldn't be able to chicken out or drive away. Eventually, the cooler air outside would make its way in and lower the temperature in the car, prompting her that her time to sit around has come to an end. 

Kagome didn't even know what she was so nervous about anyway. It was going to be just another date night with Inuyasha, perfectly normal and entertaining.

‘Oh yeah, because showing up at your boyfriend’’s house in nothing but lingerie is definitely normal,’ Kagome thought, shifting around in her seat a little and making herself much more aware of exactly what she was wearing and why.

She had been dating Inuyasha for just about a month now, and they had yet to “do the deed”. Which, if she was honest, Kagome wasn’t sure if that was odd or normal for a relationship. Her past relationships had been so varied, ranging from sex on the first date to no sex at all, or even pretty much only sex with little to no substance.

Kagome didn’t think it was because he didn’t want to. They had been texting back and forth practically everyday since their first date at that ramen shop. Inuyasha even made it a point to come to the diner for lunch just so they could see each other - which totally didn’t make her heart flutter, no siree. They just hadn’t really had the...opportunity to express their interest for each other in that way yet.

The plan for tonight was to just have a simple dinner at Inuyasha’s, and maybe pop in a movie during dessert. Very relaxed and extremely intimate. It was actually Kagome’s idea of a perfect date. Sure, going out to eat together is always nice, and spending the day out and about can create a lot of great memories, but she craved the closeness one could get when you were comfortable in your own home.

Kagome had some slight alterations to go with their evening plans  It was simple: walk inside, seduce her hot boyfriend, and fuck him into next week. She still wasn’t sure where dinner and a movie fell between it all; she was just going to have to wing it. Earlier in the week, Kagome had made a stop at the mall and purchased a most alluring piece of lingerie.

It was a fairly simple garment, which was good because Kagome couldn’t even begin to wonder how she’d get into some of the lingerie she looked at. She was pretty sure some of them could double as their own sex toys. In the end, she chose two different colors of a two piece bra and panty set - one in red, which she was currently wearing, and one in green, her favorite color. It was made from a soft silk with floral lace borders around the edges of the cup of the bra and the elastic of the panties. Overall, it was a very comfortable fit, which is what greatly prompted Kagome to purchase two.

However, the real stars of the show were the crotchless panties and the cupless bra.

Despite its simplicity, it was the raunchiest piece of lingerie that Kagome had ever purchased.

It was still chilly outside, requiring her to wear her purple peacoat to and from the car, but the only other piece of clothing Kagome wore was a random slip dress she found buried deep in one of her dresser drawers. She was actually pretty sure it was meant to go over your bathing suit when visiting the local swimming pool or beach, but with only three buttons and a waist tie, the garment was perfect for easy removal. She rounded out the whole outfit with the most expensive pair of black stiletto heels she owned, and hoped that Inuyasha didn't question its...quirkiness.

Well, she was wearing an old pair of boyshorts over the crotchless panties, but Kagome just felt too awkward driving without a proper pair of underwear on.

'Alright Kagome, time to get your butt in gear,' she thought, giving her cheeks a few good slaps to motivate her. With a deep inhale, she carefully shimmied out of the boyshorts and tossed them into the backseat before grabbing her purse and stepping out of the car to walk towards Inuyasha's apartment.

She knocked on the door, running her hands through her hair to fix any errant strands the wind may have moved. After about thirty seconds, she could hear Inuyasha's muffled reply to ‘come on in’, like he was on the opposite side of the apartment. It was unusual of him - he never failed to greet her at the door the few times she had been over - but she reminded herself they had only been dating for a month. Plus, he was probably still getting things ready. No big deal.

He must have anticipated not being quite ready for her arrival, seeing as the door was already unlocked. She quickly stepped in and locked the door behind her, taking off her coat and hanging it, along with her purse, on one of the hooks beside the door. She forewent taking her shoes off though, since they were a part of the whole 'fuck me' look she was attempting to pull off.

Looking into the living room, there were a few extra blankets and pillows stacked on the ottoman, but nothing looked particularly different. The apartment was always pretty clean due to Inuyasha's sensitive nose - he had a hard time dealing with dust - although it looked like he did a quick wipe down throughout the room not that long ago.

Inuyasha didn't have a space set up for a dining table since he normally ate by himself , but he had taken the time to set up a couple of placemats for them at the bar that separated the kitchen and living room. Each spot had its own dinner plate, salad bowl, utensils, and wine glass all ready to be filled. Placed on either side of them and in front of them were three long candlesticks in their own respective holder.

The whole scene put a soft smile on her face as she tenderly touched each piece. She had yet to see Inuyasha, but tonight was already turning out to be the perfect date. It was obvious to see the work he put into making this dinner special for them. The plates looked like they came from his own cupboard, but she was pretty sure he went out to buy candles to set the mood.

Kagome was beginning to get a little anxious to find Inuyasha, but the smells coming from the kitchen were strong enough to tear her away from her search. There were a couple of pots on the stove over a low flame. Nothing smelled like it was burning, but what kind of cook would Kagome be if she didn't take a quick peek at some unattended pots?

That's what she told herself, anyways, as she slowly lifted the lid to the pot on the right hand burner. The pleasant aroma of tomatoes and garlic filled the immediate area, and Kagome inhaled it deeply. Inside the pot was what looked to be meatballs, simmering in a homemade tomato sauce. Kagome took hold of the spoon being used to stir the sauce and snuck a quick taste.

She closed her eyes, groaning slightly in satisfaction. The sauce was tangy and savory, a hint of sweetness found in the aftertaste. Kagome might have been the professional chef between them, but Inuyasha never gave himself enough credit when it came to his own cooking. Growing up as a hanyou, he always had to be careful with foods that could possibly be too spicy or over seasoned, and he learned that it was sometimes better to just cook your own food.

Not to mention the fact that there were few things more attractive than your boyfriend cooking a meal for you.

Kagome set the lid back on the pot to go looking for the hanyou in question. She hadn't seen Inuyasha since she came in, and a quick peek behind the balcony curtains told her he wasn't outside either, which left the bathroom and bedroom.

There were three doors down in the back hallway. The first door on the left - which was left open and clearly empty - was the bathroom, with a small storage closet directly across from it. Kagome walked right past both doors in favor of the closed bedroom door; the storage closet was small and cramped, not big enough to fit even the small built Kagome inside with the door closed, and so, inconsequential to Kagome's mind.

She stood in front of the bedroom door, suddenly nervous now that the sight of cooked food couldn't distract her. She still had no idea how tonight was going to pan out, or how Inuyasha would react to her advances. Kagome took another deep breath to relax her shoulders, making herself stand just a little bit taller. 

She was a Higurashi after all, dammit! Known for their stubbornness and determination, there was no obstacle they couldn't climb. In fact, there was nothing for her to be nervous about at all. She was an attractive woman, he was an attractive man. This was just the natural next step that many people took in their relationships, and damn it all, she was gonna seduce the hell out of him.

Yet, she wasn't expecting the sight that laid before her as she opened the door. At all.

Her breath hitched as wide eyes landed on Inuyasha sprawled out on the bed.

Completely naked.

Well, was he considered completely naked if his dick was just barely covered? It was an errant thought that crossed her mind, despite how unnecessary it was at the moment.

Kagome didn't think she'd ever seen a sight as glorious as Inuyasha, propped up by a couple of pillows, one arm bent behind his head, the other laying across his stomach. She had yet to see Inuyasha without a shirt on, and found she couldn't tear her eyes away from the bulging muscles in his arms, or the rippling six-pack he sported. He looked like he could have been carved by Michaelangelo himself, an Adonis covered in whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and caramel, topped with a bright red maraschino cherry on top.

Kagome was sure she was about to develop a sweet tooth of her own.

She took a quick second to notice the overall look of the room. He had the same long stemmed candles placed strategically around the room, offering the only source of light. Beside him on the bedside table was all the fixings - the chocolate sauce, caramel, whipped cream, even a jar of strawberry jam.

'Oh my God, is this what he meant by having banana splits for dessert?' she thought, remembering the text conversation they had as she was getting ready earlier. Inuyasha hadn't told her what he was making for dinner, but he had asked her if she liked banana splits. Which she had replied to him that of course she did, who didn't?

Well, one thing for sure was that she'd never look at a banana split the same way again.

Neither of them knew how long she had been standing there for, but Inuyasha was getting more nervous by the second. She hadn't said anything when she entered the room, just stood there staring at him with this weird look in her eyes.

The last five minutes had been stressful for him, to say the least. Inuyasha hadn't wanted to put the whipped cream on too soon and have it start melting on him, so he waited until he could hear her soft knocking at the front door before getting himself all set up.

He had no idea how long it would take Kagome to make her way to the bedroom. She was far too curious for her own good to just sit out there waiting for him, but how many things would distract her on her way to the bedroom was the real question. Still, as soon as he heard the front door close, he got to work, covering his very erect penis with the whipped cream - just the thought of what her mouth would be doing to him soon was enough to get him going - and using deft hands to flourish it with the chocolate and caramel. He saved the cherry for the moment right before she opened the door, not wanting it to slide off and ruin the masterpiece he had concocted.

Surprisingly, he wasn't all that nervous as he was getting ready. It was when she finally came in and just stared that set his nerves on fire. What was she thinking? Did she like the view or was she trying to figure out how to get out of the situation entirely? He didn't really know what her scent smelled of when she was aroused, so he felt like he was walking into the fire blind.

He couldn't take it anymore. The silence was killing him, he was sure of it. He didn't know what he was going to say to her, but anything was better than nothing.

"Kagome,"

Hearing her name must have startled her from her own thoughts. She looked at him now - really looked at him - and what he saw in her eyes was pure determination.

Inuyasha didn't think he had ever been so terrified in his life. It was at this moment he realized that he really didn't know all that much about Kagome. Sure, they had been talking back and forth, constantly texting about their favorite movies or the places they like to frequent or comparing allergies, but that was just the small stuff. He had no idea what this look in her eyes meant.

And then, she showed him.

If he was worried about what she thought about his "gift" to her, her next actions put those thoughts to bed.

She slowly unbuttoned the dress she was wearing, sensually untying the waist tie until it opened and floated to the floor, bearing herself to him.

Inuyasha had to stifle the urge to whine. He had never seen a sight as alluring as Kagome, standing before him with her hair down over her shoulders in a bright red lingerie set. This wasn't like any lingerie set Inuyasha had ever seen. The cups to the bra covered the tops of her breasts more than most bras might, but he had a clear view of her dusky pink nipples poking through a set of holes in each cup.

The candlelight put the most tantalizing shadows against the muscles in her arms down to her toned calves, which was exaggerated even more by the black high heels she wore. And as his eyes wandered up and down her body, he was pretty sure they were crotchless, judging by the shape of the panties.

His first thought was that she looked like a snack, but he'd be lying - she was a whole goddamn meal.

"Is this for me?" she asked, walking up to the end of the bed, jutting her hips out with each step.

It sort of felt like an out of body experience, like she had control of her body but also not at the same time? Every step to the bed was fueled by a slowly rising arousal. Her mouth was beginning to water; she hadn't expected to do dessert before dinner, but she supposed she could break the rules just this once. After all, it would be rude to not immediately accept this most generous...gift.

"Ye - yeah," Inuyasha answered, trying to sound suave instead of like some virginal teenager. He wasn't so sure he was succeeding, but Kagome didn't seem to mind as she continued to get closer to him, bending down to lean her hands against the bed, giving him a fantastic view of her chest.

He couldn't control the twitch in his cock as she began to fully lift herself onto the bed. Kagome didn't miss it either, giving him a devilish smirk as she crawled her way to him. It made him feel like prey being stalked by a predator, which was a weird change in his bedroom dynamics. He had always been the more dominant party when he was with Kikyo, but he was finding that he didn't mind the change all that much.

Not when a beautiful woman like Kagome was looking like she was going to devour him.

And that was exactly what she planned to do.

Kagome gingerly put her hands on his calves, causing Inuyasha to take in a sharp inhale. He hadn't been expecting her touch, and it made him take in a sharp inhale. He expected her to dive straight in, but she leaned over to the right side of the bed instead, bringing her bare nipples dangerously close to his face. 

Inuyasha turned his head away slightly and closed his eyes, not sure if he could stand to look at her much longer before losing his patience and having his way with her. The bed shifted back to normal a second later, and Inuyasha opened his eyes to find she had grabbed the chocolate sauce and the jar of caramel.

Kagome desperately wanted a taste of him, but she also wanted to make this whole experience last. She wanted to tease and torture him until he couldn't take it anymore and took her instead.

"Do you mind getting a little sticky?"

Inuyasha's eyes started to darken as her plans for him slowly became clear. So she wanted to tease him a little, huh? That was fine by him. He was sure he'd let her do whatever she wanted.

"I'm your blank canvas Kagome,"

'Smooth'

Inuyasha watched her face flush at his words and he subconsciously opened his chest up in pride at being the one to cause it. She looked so cute flustered, and he couldn't wait to see it again when she was underneath him.

Kagome took his words to heart and opened the top to the chocolate sauce. Moving over to his left side for a better angle, she started at his face, taking the bottle and carefully squeezing it over his skin - over his lips, on the apple of his cheeks, on his nose, sculpting the jaw.

And then she started moving downward, dotting all down his neck, not wanting it to run too much given the angle. When she reached his chest, she began drawing intricate lace designs over his pecs. Inuyasha could see the absolute focus in her eyes as she drew, almost as if she had done this before. She worked in a restaurant, and Inuyasha was pretty sure he remembered her saying she even did some baking, so she most likely had done this before. On a cake at least.

When she was done with the chocolate, she grabbed the jar of caramel and began painting him with that as well. Inuyasha had taken the honey dipper from his mother's old honey jar to make it easier to decorate with, and Kagome used it to accent the major chocolate work on his skin. She took extra care covering his nipples and belly button.

Kagome was about to get to work when she looked up and realized she had forgotten to take the strawberry jam. She went all out on covering his chest, so that was a no go. She scrunched her face up a little, thinking about what she could do with it, when suddenly the idea hit her.

"Hand me the strawberry jam?" she asked, innocently batting her eyelashes at him.

He did as she asked, going as far as opening the jar before handing it to her. She tossed him a sweet smile before taking hold of his left hand and dipping each finger into the jam. She gestured for him to take the jar back, watching him grab it with his free hand. She wanted until right before the jar was going to hit the table, and took his thumb into her mouth.

Just as she thought would happen, the jar clattered onto the table, the strange sensation of Kagome sucking on his fingers taking away all brain functions.

Inuyasha had never had someone suck on his fingers before, and if you had asked him prior to tonight if that was something he'd be into, Inuyasha would have probably answered with a scrunched face and a "hard no". Now though? He could see the pros.

She thoroughly cleaned his fingers, wrapping her tongue languidly around each digit and sucking hard enough to feel the blood flow temporarily stop. Inuyasha couldn't keep in the low moan as he imagined her using that tongue in the same way on his cock.

She gave him a break by starting with the chocolate on his face next. She pressed the flat of her tongue against each cheek, using the tip to sensually lick the chocolate off his nose and along his jaw, ending her explorations of his face with a sweet kiss. It was slow and wistful, sweet from of the chocolate.

Inuyasha parted his mouth to let her tongue in when she began licking across the seam. He used his right hand to thread through her hair, deepening the kiss. Gods, did she taste absolutely fucking divine, like chocolate covered cherries. 

Far too soon, she pulled away from him, nipping his bottom lip for attempting to pull her back in. Kagome used her own hand to run through his hair, tipping his head back enough so she could run her tongue up and down the skin, licking up all the chocolate dots she had placed there.

Her tongue was so warm, and soft. It left him in a daze as she moved lower to tackle his chest. From the way she licked, starting from one side to the other and slowly making her way south, she must have drawn an elaborate maze. Her tongue deftly moved with precision; she knew exactly where to go.

Inuyasha moaned, his eyes half mast in pleasure, as Kagome sucked at his nipples. She took her time there, giving each one an equal amount of attention, erasing all signs of the caramel that covered them before moving on.

It was the most pleasurable torture Inuyasha had ever endured. She was getting closer and closer to the whipped cream tower that covered him, but it was obvious that Kagome was going to savor the taste of him before digging in. No amount of skin was forgotten as she traced lines of fire down his chest, dipping her tongue into his caramel filled belly button. Sometime during her travels downward, Inuyasha had grabbed a hold of her hair, helping keep it pinned back so she didn't get any chocolate or whipped cream in it. It was also an exercise in control, being careful that he didn't pull her hair too hard to cause her any pain.

Truth be told, Kagome was excited to get to the whipped cream portion of her dessert hanyou, although not entirely for what lay underneath. She had been eyeing that cherry since she walked in on him. It was the best part of a dessert after all. 

She licked a line from the base of the tower to the tip, careful to not get too close to the skin of his shaft, picking up the cherry with the tip of her tongue and placing it between her teeth with the stem pointing out toward Inuyasha. Her gut reaction was to bite into the cherry and satiate her desire for the small fruit, but looking up at Inuyasha she had a better idea.

Leaning in towards him, she stuck out the stem towards his lips, offering him one last taste of her before she finally got a taste of him. Inuyasha greedily took the stem in his mouth, moving his lips generously over hers as she bit into the cherry, sharing the juice between the two of them for a moment before pulling apart.

Inuyasha wished he knew how to tie cherry stems with his tongue. He wanted to show her just what he could do with that tongue of his. Instead, he spit it out over the edge of the bed, far more concerned with what Kagome was about to do next.

Kagome had already moved to nestle herself between his legs, laying on her chest with her legs propped up at the knees, ankles crossed. Every time Kagome moved to another position, Inuyasha didn't think she could get any sexier, only to be proven wrong just a moment later. She gave him one last sultry look, placing her hands on his thighs to gently massage them, before taking the flat of her tongue from the base of his balls to the tip of his dick, all the way down to the skin.

Inuyasha pulled a low growl from deep in his chest at the feel of her tongue running up and down his hardened length. She felt even more amazing than he imagined she would, and he wasn't sure whether it was because he had been dry for so long or because Kagome just had a lot of practice.

They had been honest with each other from the beginning about their past sexual experiences. While Inuyasha wasn't a stranger to the act, Kagome had been with far more partners than himself, and with the way she licked his dick like her favourite ice cream cone was proof of that. Gods, when was the last time he received a blowjob anyways? Not since Kikyo, and that was years ago.

He played with the idea of threading his hand through her hair again, wanting to constantly be touching her, to feel her shiver as his claws lightly grazed her scalp. But as she finished licking off all the whipped cream, she fully engulfed his dick in her mouth, relaxing her jaw to fit as much of him in as she could. Inuyasha put holes into the bedsheets from gripping them so hard, and he was grateful he had stayed his hand from her head.

Inuyasha's head was spinning at the wet sounds of Kagome's mouth salivating around his dick. He didn't know how much more of this he could take before blowing his load early, and he much rather preferred the thought of cumming inside her undoubtedly wet pussy instead of her mouth.

"K-Kagome,"

She didn't slow down, didn't even look up at him as the hand that was squeezing towards the base tightened and the movements of her mouth went a little faster and deeper.

"Nng….Kags…."

Kagome could feel his balls tighten and knew he couldn't hold it much longer. The act of licking food off Inuyasha's body aroused her far more than she would have expected, and there was one aspect of the "banana split" that Inuyasha was missing: the garnish of chopped nuts. The chocolate and caramel she poured all over him and the whipped cream left her with a wonderfully sweet taste in her mouth, but she wanted to know how the salty taste of his cum would mix with it.

She ran a finger from her other hand along his perineum and moaned as she gave him one last hard suck. The vibrations from the skin to skin contact of her lips caused Inuyasha to let out a pitched whine as he filled her mouth with his cum. She held him fast in her mouth, keeping some controlled movement of her hand on his shaft as she swallowed every last drop of him.

Salty and sweet. Kagome was sure this was the ultimate way to give a blowjob, and she hoped by the panting she could hear from Inuyasha that he'd let her do it again sometime.

After cleaning up every last drop of his cum, she gave one last, chaste kiss to the tip of his cock and started lifting herself up by the arms when she was suddenly grabbed by the forearms and hauled up towards his face. He smashed his lips against her, clinking their teeth together as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, groaning at the taste of himself on her. He wanted to tell her how much he enjoyed what she gave him, but words seemed immaterial and not enough, so he decided to show her instead.

In fact, he loved it so much, he knew he had to return the favor. Besides, Kagome got to have her fun, so it was only fair that Inuyasha should as well.

He wrapped his arms around Kagome and flipped them so he was top, not once severing their connection at the lips. Kagome didn't seem to mind the change as her hands roamed his body, tracing the muscles up his arms and in his shoulders. When the need for air became too great, Inuyasha moved down to line open mouthed kisses to the pulsepoint in her neck, nipping the jaw on his way there.

It took a considerable amount of restraint to not move himself even lower. She looked absolutely delectable laying under him, her nipples already pebbled and hard from her aroused state. She had a soft expression in her eyes, but there was still a light held in there that waited for Inuyasha's next move.

Just as she had done, he reached over her to grab the chocolate sauce and caramel and carefully spread it all over the tops of her breasts and stomach, saving the caramel for her exposed nipples. It was not nearly as intricate as Kagome's designs had been; despite his desire to give back the love she gave him, he was slowly becoming impatient. It had been so long since he made love to a woman, and the imagined feeling of her warm heat clutching him as he pumped into her made him grow harder by the second.

He also didn't have nearly as much space as she did. Inuyasha didn't want to get chocolate syrup on her lingerie, which he guessed probably cost a good deal.

Inuyasha set the toppings down on the nightstand, bringing his nose to the silk material of her bra and gently rubbed his nose against it. The silk was so soft against his skin and smelled strongly of her natural scent, intoxicating him.

His original plan was to slowly work his way down her body, but he couldn't fight the instinct to lay his tongue flat against her right nipple, licking up all the caramel in one swoop. Her body twitched, not quite anticipating his touch there yet, and she let out a sharp gasp as he curled his tongue around her nipple and completely enveloped it into his mouth.

Kagome's body was already beginning to tremble, not used to the feeling of someone's hot breath against her skin. She arched her chest upwards towards his face, desperate to keep that connection intact. Every lick and suck was sending jolts of pleasure down to her core, setting her body ablaze in passion. When he started nibbling with his teeth, Kagome trailed her hands up around his head, gently grasping the base of his ears and massaging them.

Inuyasha growled at the sensation, her soft touch sending shivers down his spine. Despite how good it felt, Inuyasha let her nipple go with a loud pop! and with almost lightening speed, grabbed her wrists and trapped them together above her head. This time was for Kagome; Inuyasha was determined to make her feel just as good as he did - if not more - and currently, that didn't include him. Not in the same way.

Until he could bury himself in her, the only thing he wanted from her was to hear her moaning in pleasure.

"Ah ah, no touching yet baby," he told her, keeping himself lifted off her just enough to take her in. Kagome moaned at the absence of his lips, arching her back just a little bit more to tempt him to come back for more. Inuyasha wished he could keep her in this position. He loved the way her chest opened up to him from this angle, but he fully planned on giving both nipples this undivided attention. Unfortunately he couldn't grow a third arm.

"Tell you what," he said, placing open mouth kisses down her neck. "If you can keep your hands up here, I'll make it worth your while,"

Kagome rolled her hands into fists, trying her hardest to break free as he gently pulled on her earlobe, snaking his tongue up the sides. She wasn't sure she could keep still while he lapped at her skin. She wanted something to do with her hands, and his ears were a perfect distraction.

But he was giving her a challenge, and Kagome had no plans to back down anytime soon.

"Then show me what you got," she replied, relaxing her hands and lowered her body back down into the bed.

Inuyasha released her wrists slowly, making sure they stayed where he put them. His hand slowly lowered down, caressing her cheek and trailing a line down her neck straight to her breast. He cupped the underside of her left breast, lifting it right to his mouth.

Kagome sighed as his other hand came up to the other breast, pulling and twisting the nipple. She managed to keep her wrists where they were, but couldn't help flexing her hands. 

When he was convinced her breasts had been worshipped long enough, he slowly worked his way down her body, licking the chocolate off as he went. Her skin was soft, arguably softer than even the lingerie she wore. Inuyasha had to control himself from marking her all over her stomach, settling for quick nips that only turned the skin red for a few moments.

Inuyasha couldn't wait any longer. He was so close to getting to taste her, and he was salivating at the prospect. Her belly button was the last place he focused on - swirling his tongue around it - before gripping her left thigh in his hand and lifting it so it sat on his shoulder. He used his other hand to spread her right leg, opening herself up to him fully.

Without thinking about it, he brought his nose against her dark curls and inhaled, letting out a deep groan. She smelled absolutely exquisite, a spicy scent reminiscent of ginger surrounding him. The image of her panting underneath him, pussy already glistening from how wet she was for him, was more perfect than he could have ever imagined.

He dove in, licking a long swipe from slit to clit. She was sweet and salty at the same time, something uniquely Kagome, and he’d never get enough. He worked his tongue in overtime, starting at the ever quickly hardening nub. He flicked his tongue back and forth, bracing his hands against her thighs as she twitched with each flick, before moving down a little lower. He used his right hand to gently push apart her folds, each swipe of the tongue imitating a soft caress to her sensitive nerves.

Kagome moaned at the feeling, jolts of pleasure shooting through her body like electricity. She had given up on his challenge, moving her hands down from above her head and threading her fingers through his hair, gently scraping his scalp with her nails.

She could feel her eyes roll towards the back of her head as he plunged his tongue inside her. There was something about receiving oral that just sent her over the edge. The feel of his tongue swirling inside her, hitting her innermost walls as she tried to keep him in, had her gasping and squirming.

Despite the overwhelming feeling, she made sure to keep her hands clear of his ears, not wanting to accidentally pull or pinch them. She tried lifting her pelvis off the bed, but her trembling body was no match for the pure strength of his arms as he held her down. Instead, she pushed his head further forward, making his nose bump her clit, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

Inuyasha had to grind his pelvis into the bed to find a bit of relief from the sensory overload. He was drunk on the taste of her, but his impatience was beginning to get the best of him. He wanted to know how she felt wrapped around his dick, sucking him in and milking him dry.

He relished in the small whines Kagome made as he nuzzled his nose against her nub. He could feel her legs begin to shake as he slowly made his way upward, taking his time to generously lick around her folds before turning his tongue's attention to her swollen pearl.

It felt like the breath was being squeezed from Kagome's chest. Every inhale was followed by a shallow, barely present exhale. His tongue was working in overdrive. Every flick, every swirl had her entire body trembling under the force of her well awaited orgasm just starting to break over the horizon.

Inuyasha, in an effort to end their collective misery, took her swollen nub between his lips and sucked, letting out a contented growl, the vibrations finally sending her over the edge. Kagome let out an almost shrill whine and arched her back, her thighs tense with the desire to capture Inuyasha's head between them. Her eyes clouded, unable to focus on anything but the explosive orgasm running throughout body.

Inuyasha stayed right where he was, lapping up every drop of her essence that spilled from her. His ears stood at attention as he listened to her mewling, a soft rumbling spreading throughout his chest at the thought that he made her feel this way. 

Inuyasha kept at her folds, slowly licking her clean, until the tremors stopped racing through her body. He pushed himself up so he could get a better image of the woman under him. Her face was flushed red, small tendrils of hair already beginning to stick to her neck, and her chest was heaving, taking in large gulps of air. When her breath was starting to go back to normal, she finally focused her gaze on Inuyasha, eyes filled with lust.

Inuyasha found it difficult to keep her strong gaze, his confidence from before slowly wavering now that there was nothing to distract either of them. Inuyasha wiped his chin on his upper arm, suddenly embarrassed about the mess he had made despite his best attempt at licking her clean.

Kagome let out a short puff of air, not wanting to fully chuckle at the man on top of her. She wasn't trying to laugh at him, he just looked so adorable. His eyes tried not to land on her face, but he didn't shy away from running them up and down her body. He was looking at her with what Kagome could only describe as reverence, yet just a tinge of uncertainty lingered.

Kagome leaned up, tugging one of his forelocks gently to bring his face to hers so they could share a kiss. It was slow and determined all at the same time; Kagome tried to pour her heart into it, to try and let him know that it was okay. They were okay, and Kagome wanted nothing more than to be with him like this for the rest of the night.

Kagome could taste herself on his tongue, and it only helped fuel the fire that had settled slightly after her body wracking orgasm. She wound her hands behind his neck, grazing the back of his neck with her fingernails, causing a deep groan to emit from Inuyasha's chest.

"Inuyasha, I want you," Kagome purred, running a finger lightly over the outlines of his ears while the other hand ran lines up and down his chest.

"Kagome…"

Inuyasha tried to keep his actions calm and smooth - leaning over to the bedside table to grab a condom from the drawer - a feat that proved to be difficult as Kagome continued to run her hands across whatever body part of his she could reach. His hands shook as he slowly rolled it onto his dick. When he was ready, he lowered himself down to lay on top of her, being careful not to put his weight on her, and instead into his arms that framed her face. She opened herself up to him, allowing him to nestle his stiff erection in between her legs.

"Kagome," he whispered, nuzzling his nose against her skin, starting from one cheek to the next. "Are you sure?"

Kagome brought her lips up against his one more time, teasing him with her tongue, swiping it along his lips, lightly caressing his own tongue in the process. She gently nipped his bottom lip when pulling back for air. She leaned up towards the top of his head, her breath ghosting the fine hairs of his ears.

"Take me, Inuyasha,"

Inuyasha had never heard words so sweet.

He slowly sank into her, nearly wincing at the pressure he felt. God she was tight! Already her walls were clenching and pulsing around his cock, her warmth seeping into him all the way up to his chest. Kagome moaned when Inuyasha was buried in her as far as he could be, basking in the fullness of having him inside her. For a minute, neither of them moved, each of them getting used to being so intimately joined.

Inuyasha kissed all along her jaw and neck - internally rejoicing when Kagome tilted her head back enough to bare more of her neck to him, a sign of submission to an Inu youkai.

Once Kagome was used to the added girth inside her, she rocked her hips up, letting him know she was ready for him to start moving.

He started slow, pulling out till just the tip remained before sliding back in. Inuyasha was the one to moan this time, Kagome letting out an erotic sigh as her body shivered under his touch. Every thrust sent a wave of pleasure through his body, the smell of their activities slowly beginning to permeate the air around them, creating a natural musk that was absolutely intoxicating.

Inuyasha raised himself up onto his arms just enough to look at her face as he continued to thrust into her. Kagome’s eyes were only halfway open, seeing but not seeing as she let her body be taken over by the pleasure of having him be not just inside of her, but to actively give her what her body desired. Her mouth was parted open, and Inuyasha could hear every little breathy moan she made as he tilted his hips back and forth, torturing her slowly. 

Kagome hooked her ankles behind his legs in an effort to keep him as deep inside her as possible. One hand was gripping his bicep, the other was sinking into the supple flesh of one of his buttcheeks.

“Inuyasha....I….I need…”

“What do you need, baby?”

“I need more,”

“More of what?” he teased, slowing down his thrusts so he could circle his hips into her. Kagome let out a small cry at the sensation.

“I need it harder….faster…”

Inuyasha let out a low growl, and, with the precision only one with youkai ancestry could pull off, he fully raised himself up onto his knees, keeping himself inside of her. He grabbed both of her legs, hooking her ankles behind his head and gave her exactly what she asked for.

He began pounding into her with the fervor of a crazed man. Kagome became far more vocal, gasping and moaning at the force and speed with which he was fucking her with. Her head tilted back into the pillow, forcing her chest open to his eyed. Her breasts were bouncing violently against his movements.

“Touch yourself, Kagome,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobeyment. She instantly grabbed her breasts, molding each of them to her hands before pinching and rolling her nipples between deft fingers.

Kagome was on fire, the heat radiating from her core and spreading all over her body. Once again, the ability to exhale was quickly becoming lost to her, the holding of her breath only making the heat in her groin feel more pronounced. Her legs were beginning to ache, but she could barely feel the tension as he continued to pound into her, using the force and dexterity only a youkai could give her.

Inuyasha could feel he was close to the end, the feel of her wet pussy clenching around his hardened length bringing him closer and closer. He could hear every gasp and hitch of her breath, knowing that she was getting close herself. He wanted to give her one more orgasm before his own. Being mindful of his claws, he snaked his right hand down and began rubbing her clit, his rough, calloused fingers inducing the right amount of friction for Kagome’s legs to tremble.

“Nn..ahhh...Inuyasha...”

“Come on baby. Cum for me, Kagome,”

All it took were those four words to send Kagome over the edge. She let out a high pitched whine, white spots blurred her vision as a tidal wave of pleasure crashed over her body. Inuyasha let out his own yelp, unprepared for the pressure that came when her walls clenched around his cock, feeling as if she was cutting off blood flow. He erratically drove into her a couple more times before shooting his seed into the condom he wore.

Inuyasha slowly lowered Kagome’s legs to the bed before falling forward, catching himself on his arms so he wouldn’t crush her. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck as Kagome wrapped her arms around his shoulders, absentmindedly grazing her fingers on the nape of his neck. They simply laid there, basking in the glowing aftermath of their orgasm, as they took a few deep breaths.

Inuyasha could have laid there all night, taking in the sweet scent of sex and sweat that had spread throughout the room. There was absolutely no way he was washing these sheets anytime soon. In fact, he might have to research how to bottle this scent, maybe put it in a candle, so that he could relive this moment at any time.

Of course, given the soft humming coming from the woman underneath him, he might be able to reenact this night in the very near future.

Not wanting to crush her any longer, Inuyasha finally pulled out - Kagome letting out a small grunt at the loss of him inside her - carefully taking hold of the now filled condom, tying up the end and throwing it in the small trash can beside his bed.

"I'll be right back," he told her, giving her a quick kiss before walking out of the room towards the bathroom, not giving a damn that he was walking around completely naked. He was still high on all that is Kagome to care about something as silly as that. He came back barely a minute later, after quickly wiping himself clean, with a warm, damp washcloth for Kagome.

He chuckled at the sight before him. Kagome had already cocooned herself under the sheets, a warm smile on her face as she brought the pillow she was holding up towards her face and took a deep breath. She looked so happy, and content, and satisfied. The youkai that slept deep within Inuyasha rumbled with joy at the thought that he was the one to make her feel that way.

She opened her eyes as soon as he reached the bed, her smile brightening just a bit more at the sight of him. Maybe it had just been a while, but Kagome was pretty sure that was some of the best sex she's ever had. Her heart melted a little at seeing the washcloth in his hands. She had always took care of her own needs afterwards, having never really stayed the night at a man's house after sex before. She had to admit, it was….nice, and made her feel more loved than even during the act itself.

She thanked him with another kiss, finding that it was hard to keep her hands off him for more than a minute. He must have felt the same, running his tapered claws through her mussed up hair as she took care of cleaning herself. The feel of the warm washcloth along her thighs mixed with his soft touches could have put her to sleep.

When she was finished, he took the washcloth from her and threw it in the corner of the room where his laundry basket sat. He grabbed the sheets to cover them with, wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her close to him so that her back was flush with his chest

"You know what the best thing about being an adult is?" Kagome asked. Inuyasha gave her an unintelligible reply, muffled by her own hair that he had buried his face into. She giggled from the hair that tickled her neck because of his breath.

"I don't know, you tell me" He repeated, now resting his head on her shoulder.

"Well, we were able to choose to eat dessert before dinner," she said with a laugh.

Inuyasha chuckled at her joke.  "Dessert before dinner, that’s the dream,"

"Well, dessert has made me hungry for dinner," she said, playfully pushing him off her. She could feel that delicious ache between her thighs as she stood up, faltering a little on her first step. Inuyasha was ready to jump up if she fell, but Kagome shooed him away and walked to his closet to pull out a shirt of his to wear.

Inuyasha didn't think Kagome could be any more perfect than in that moment, wearing one of his favorite black long sleeved shirts. She looked beautiful when she dressed up in one of her floral dresses or high waisted skirts, and if all her lingerie looked like tonight's, then Inuyasha could count himself a lucky man. But there was something about seeing her in his clothes that riled up something primal in him.

Inuyasha had never really shown his more youkai tendencies to Kikyo when they were together. He had never suppressed them for her, but Kikyo generally ignored the topic, while Inuyasha's youkai side laid dormant and unimpressed with the woman Inuyasha had loved for so long.

Inuyasha had never experienced his youkai instincts feeling so active before. There was something about Kagome that fueled every fiber of his being, which was a little terrifying. He had only known Kagome for a month, how could he feel this strongly about her already? He certainly didn't want to scare her away because of it.

"Dinner can wait a few minutes, come back to bed," he said, rubbing the empty side of the bed

"Inuyasha, you can't let your apartment burn down because of unattended food! You promised me dinner and a movie. Besides," She exclaimed, a grin lighting up her face. “Who said we were done for the night,”

Kagome shot him a sly wink before stepping out of the room to go check on their dinner. The last thing Inuyasha wanted to do was get up after the mind blowing sex they just had - in fact, Inuyasha could fall asleep right where he laid - but a sudden gurgle of his stomach put thoughts of slumber on the back burner as hunger crept to the forefront. Another plus side to getting up was watching Kagome work in his kitchen, in nothing but his shirt.

Inuyasha thought there could be worse things to happen.

And so he flipped over the sheets, sauntering out into the kitchen, not bothering to cover himself. He would let her fiddle with his marinara sauce, and woo her with the fancy bottle of wine he bought for her to go with the meal. They’d then snuggle up together on the couch and put in a movie. The genre wasn’t important, it wasn’t as if they were going to watch it.

Like Kagome said, they weren’t done for the night, and he was looking forward to claiming her in every room of that damn apartment.

[s-creations]

Return the Flames - Chapter 12

All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The  Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if  angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was  told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No  possible loss of anything from an open flame.

A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.

It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.

Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.

_________________

Fandom: A Hat in Time         Rating: General Audience         Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves       Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).

Author's Note: I finished Student Teaching, passed my Content Test, and I have a new job lined up for the school year! I’m getting back into writing, but we’ll see how consistent I am with my stories. XD

The morning after was surprisingly quiet with knowing what was waiting for them. Dominic and Amos waking to find themselves tangled up among each other. The fire from the night before was fully dead. Both quiet as they packed up their meager belongings and headed out. While it was quiet, it wasn’t uncomfortable. A quiet hope of believing this would all be over soon.

 By late afternoon, the duo had finally reached the base of the mountain. A single hut was waiting for them, small and a deep blue scrap of fabric swaying in the entrance. A system of two carts resting on thick vines that disappeared into the mist covering the peak. It was calm, leaving Dominic to wonder how worried they needed to be. 

 “Are you also expecting the worst?” Dominic whispered to Amos, whose feathers were ruffled. 

 “In the shape o’ C.A.W.” the owl responded, “Let’s not stick around any more than we need ta.”

 Without a glance, Amos made his way towards the carts. Only to curse when he was unable to move it forward. It was a simple crank system that moved the tram forward, one that, even when working together, wouldn’t move.

 “Alright...so… What’s the next plan.” Dominic panted. 

 “...Think we could fly?” Amos teased.

 “Um, excuse me sirs?”

 Both jumped at the new voice that sounded from behind. Another shock came at the large Nomad they found, bigger than the ones they’d met in the village proper. Draped in clothes of deep blues and purples. The growing panic broke when a small Nomad child wavered happily at the birds from behind the larger companion. It was an intense shift in size between the two. 

 The smaller Nomad dashed forward, waving their way between the two of them. “Are you the two that our Elder sent a message about?”

 “I will assume so. Unless there’s another traveling duo we were unaware of nearby as well,” Dominic laughed, “I’m Dominic, and this is Amos.”

 “I’m Bakle! And this is Papa! We’re supposed to take you to the mountain’s peak. That’s where the temple is.”

 “I’m assuming yer Papa has ta be the one ta get the thin’ goin’?” Amos asked, tensing slightly as the mentioned Nomad stepped forward. 

 “Uh huh! I was also told that we need to move quickly.”

 “Aye. The sooner we’re done with this, the better… I hope so anyway.”

 “Then we need to get going.” Bakle instantly dashed forward. Entering the card and eagerly waiting for the others to follow. Papa was on next, taking his place next to the crank. 

 Dominic frowned as, when he placed one foot into the cart, he realized Amos wasn’t following. He turned back around to find the owl’s attention focused on the mist hidden peak. It was clear the other director was nervous. Dominic understood. He wasn’t sure how this all was going to end. It felt as if they had escaped death and disaster numerous times. And to be so close to the end...whatever that end may be.

 Amos was broken from his thoughts feeling something slip into his hand. Looking down to find Dominic had taken it.

 “Come on,” the penguin said softly, “We’ll be okay.”

 There was little resistance as Amos was pulled towards the cart. The small door was closed behind them and they were off. Papa turned the large crank easily to move them forward. 

 The ground around them fell away. A new worry arrived in Amos’ mind as they were swallowed up by the mist. “This contraption is sturdy, right?”

 Bakle nodded. “We may not use these very often. But they are well maintained. We won’t fall.”

 “That’s...only slightly reassurin’...”

 “Don’t worry! Only a few more minutes and we’ll be-”

 Whatever reassuring words Bakle was going to offer was cut off. A familiar dart wheezing past all and embedding itself in the wooden ceiling. Just barely missing Papa as well. Dominic, who’d recovered from shock the quickest, leaned over the side. The second cart was filled with C.A.W. agents. Five or six moving the wheel to push them forward while the rest were refilling their dart guns. 

 “Peck necks!” Amos called out, growling darkly. He yelped as he was pulled back. Another round of darts going past and barely missing him. The feeling of panic growing when deep horns sounded, echoing over the mountain and growing stronger as more joined the first. 

 Dominic turned towards the Nomads. “What is that?”

 “Our warning system,” the child answered, “The other carts must have been stolen as well.”

 “It’s a race ta the top then.” Amos muttered weakly. 

 “We’ll be trapped…” The penguin frowned, standing next to the owl. 

 Amos didn’t respond. His attention was focused on the thick vines that were acting as the cable. Eys traveling down to where the ground laid beneath the veil of mist. “How high are we?”

 “Oh, um, a few feet? I’m not really sure. But we are high.” Bakle offered.

 “I see those gears turning Amos,” Dominic frowned, “What are you thinking.”

 “Destroyin’ their means o’ transportation. I’ll need ta cut the cable.” 

 “Amos, that’s suicide, you’ll fall as well!”

 “I’ve survived worse. Besides, I was able ta walk away from that car crash before.”

 “Barely! Amos-”

 The owl reached over, taking Dominic's hands into his own. Effectively cutting the other off. “Just listen. It may not be much, but I’ll be able ta cut their numbers down. I have the best chance at survivin’ this.”

 “Amos-”

 “Ya need ta barricade yourself in the peckin’ temple as best ya can when ya get up there.”

 “How will you get in?”

 “There’s an opening at the very top of the temple. You can drop down to enter.” Bakle offered as a solution.

 “And I just need you to focus on keeping yourself safe. I’ll meet up with you all back in the temple. Alright?”

 Dominic frowned. His hands shaking as he squeezed Amos’. “I...really hate this idea sweetheart.”

 The owl’s face softened, giving a weak smile. “I know… But do ya trust me?”

 “Of course I do.” Dominic’s mind seemed to freeze when Amos’ beak gently pressed against his own. Heart beating furiously as the seconds ticked by.

 Holy peck. Amos was kissing him!

 As his brain finally caught up, Amos had pulled away. Climbing out of the cart and onto the roof. 

 “Amos, you absolute peck neck! You did not just kiss me before jumping to your possible death!” Dominic shouted, leaning out of the cart again to glare at the other director.

 The owl smirked. “I thought ya believed in me?”

 “That does not make you less of a jerk!”

 “Noted… I’ll see ya up there Dominic.”

 “...You’d better Amos…”

 Nothing was left to be said. Taking a deep breath, Amos didn’t allow another second of thought as he jumped. It was a relief grabbing onto the other sturdy vine. A strange comfort in knowing the first step in his plan worked. He didn’t look back, knowing if he did so it would cause him to freeze in fear. Amos concentrated on his free hand. Feeling no pain as flames erupted from it, using it to cut through the vine easily. A sickening sensation filling his stomach as gravity fully kicked in. 

 He could hear the caws and screams coming from the agents as they fell as well. All probably wondering how they were going to get out of this alive.

 But Amos didn’t care about them. Their cries seem drowned out by the rushing winds. His attention on Dominic, who was leaning over the edge of the cart as he watched, helpless, as Amos fell. Face full of fear. The owl wished he could find his voice. To reassure that everything was going to be fine. But too soon his vision was obstructed by the mist. Just as he began to wonder how long this was going to take, Amos collided with something solid. There was a sickening ‘crack!’ before he fully hit the ground and the world turned black.

  When Amos came to, his body was screaming in pain. It hurt to breathe and he was sure his body was trying to put itself back together. But he was alive. Which was the entire point of his idiotic plan, so good to know it wasn’t all for nothing. The sky had begun to turn a dark blue with the horizon being painted numerous pastel colors. It had taken almost to nightfall  to finally recover from the stunt. Or at least recover enough that he could move. 

 Peck, was Dominic alright?

 Letting out a grunt as he slowly sat up, Amos gave himself another moment as he looked around. He was thankfully close to the mountain’s peak. Even able to see part of the mountain that had been carved away. Ignoring the copper smell that lingered in the air, knowing what laid behind him, Amos limped his way forward. He’d done what he needed to do. Now he just need to see how this all was going to end. 

 ________________________

 Dominic was unsure what staring into the mist below would do for him. It certainly wasn’t bringing Amos back. But the penguin seemed unable to turn away. Mind stuck on watching Amos disappear into the white void below them.

 “Um, sir? What do we do now?” Bakle’s voice through. 

 The penguin took a deep breath, setting his face in determination as he faced the Nomads. “How many entrances are there?”

 “Four doorways and the ceiling that I mentioned to the Child.” 

 “Okay. Hopefully we’ll get to the temple before any C.A.W. agents arrive. We’ll barricade the doorways and...wait. I suppose. I just...Amos did have to pull a stunt like that.”

 “I believe in the Child.”

 Dominic sighed weakly. “I do as well… But that doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

 He stumbled slightly as the cart bumped against the mountainside. All clamoring out and rushing towards the doors surrounding the temple. Papa immediately rushed over to the doorway to the right. Closing them and beginning to pile boulders to keep them from opening again. Bakle grabbed Dominic’s hand and directed him towards the doors directly across from them. Passing by a pillared altar with a deep purple feather that seemed to have stars dancing on it. 

 If they all weren’t in mortal peril, Dominic would have marveled at it.

 They reached the double doors and closed them quickly. Dominic put as thick of a layer of ice he could make. “Hopefully that will be enough. Let’s get the other one before-”

 “WHERE IS THAT PHOENIX.”

 “C.A.W. can get in.” Dominic groaned weakly.

 The familiar leading crow stood in the final doorway. A large crowd of agents standing behind them. No longer looking together and smugly in control. Feathers were ruffled, hat off kilter as eyes filled with anger as they flicked around the chamber. Rage grew when he didn’t find his target. 

 “Penguin, where is the Phoenix.”

 “Not here. Obviously,” Dominic glared back, “Your agents made the trip for nothing.”

 “Do not play dumb with us! We did not come all this way here to result in nothing. Tell us where it is!”

 “Are you dumb or just playing the part well? Where in this place do you think we could even hide Amos?” 

 That gave the agent pause. Eyes once again traveling the room, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Well-”

 There was a cry of surprise when a large boulder landed in front of them. All scrambling back as more landed and pushed them back out the doorway. Papa clearly took advantage of the lull in action to go on the offensive. The last way being blocked by a large pile of boulders. Dominic re-enforcing it with another layer of ice. The three let out a deep breath as they finally relaxed. 

 “Your blockade means nothing!” The C.A.W. agent cried out, “Do you really think this will stop us! Creature or not, once we get back in there you will all pay!”

 Bakle rushed over to Papa, hiding behind the larger form. “I don’t like the screaming bird.”

 “I don’t either.” The penguin agreed. Eyes glaring from the blocked doors to the ceiling. A circular hole had been carved there. Showing the sky above, the sun barely starting to dip below the horizon. Stars starting to barely be seen over the darkened colors. 

 “Amos...where are you?”

[phantom-curve]

44 for willex and au of your choice! If you’re still taking prompts

Oop this prompt invaded my brain and ran off into the sunset. I definitely didn’t mean for it to get as long as it did, but here we are! From the gimme a chance AU, I give you 3 times Willie sat on Alex’s lap +1 time Alex sat on Willie’s (these span the time between all the other one-shots I wrote for Willex in this universe!)

#44: sitting on the other’s lap (Rated a heavy T for some adult themes and language. Also available on ao3!)

1.

Willie hardly ever thought about it anymore. When they were out in public, when they were at the studio with Luke and Reggie for band practice, when they were just hanging around one of their apartments, he never really thought about them in terms of dating. He kind of more thought about them in terms of forever. Not that he was rushing anything, but more that there was a kind of aura around Alex, a kind of energy, that had a way of sinking into Willie’s very bones and saying hey, I’m gonna stick around for the rest of your life that made him think in terms of absolutes. Alex was an absolute. Willie was totally a-okay with that.

The thing that bothered him though, was the fact that Alex didn’t seem to get it.

He still waited for Willie to offer his hand to hold. He didn’t kiss him unless Willie made it painfully obvious that he was okay with that. He hadn’t even managed to get him to spend the night yet because Alex always came up with a reason to go home before Willie could even try to extend the invitation.

And it wasn’t that Alex wasn’t into him. He was. He so totally was. Willie knew that. But it was like he was afraid to own up to it. Which Willie could kind of understand. They had talked about their families and while Willie was lucky to be fully accepted for who he was at home, Alex’s parents were a different story.

They weren’t outright cruel, they had still provided the necessities in the form of food, water, and shelter while Alex had been living at home, but they didn’t love any more. They didn’t talk, they didn’t help, they just ghosted along as if they had never been a part of Alex’s life in the first place. It seemed worse than outright hatred, but Alex claimed it was better than nothing. After all, it had meant that they didn’t ask where he had been or where he was going or when he would be home, which had kinda been a dream as a high schooler. Other kids had wished they had that kind of freedom, Alex told him. Not worth complaining about. It had basically been like having roommates, which was great practice for when he moved out and actually had roommates, Alex said, and Willie pretended all of that was normal because he could tell Alex wanted it to be. They didn’t talk about how now that Alex was living on his own his parents had completely dropped all communication with him. Willie just made a note of it and decided he would make up for all that affection Alex had been missing out on.

So, Willie carried on the way he was used to when it came to being interested in someone and in a relationship with them. He complimented Alex, gave him cute little nicknames, and generally tried to see how often he could manage to make the other boy blush. One of the most successful tactics he had found was sitting in Alex’s lap, especially when he least expected it.

Like right now, in the middle of a Sunset Curve practice.

Luke had been getting frustrated with part of the melody of a new song or something, and Reggie had finally told him to just jam it out until he found the notes he was looking for, and Alex had paused his drumming, tucking his sticks into one hand, and reaching down with the other to grab the large water bottle he kept at his feet when he played. He watched the way the light caught on Alex’s hair as he flicked it off his face, turning the blonde strands into spun gold. Found himself mesmerized by the lines of Alex’s jaw and neck as he tipped his head back to rehydrate. His feet moved on their own, pulling him over to his boyfriend’s side like Alex was a magnet and Willie was made of metal.

Alex quirked a brow at him as he lowered the water bottle, but Willie didn’t say anything. Just grinned and plopped himself down right on Alex’s lap, even though he knew the stool was only meant to hold one person’s weight and Alex had grumbled more than once over Luke and Reggie messing with it. Alex didn’t grumble at him though. Especially not when he looped his arms around the other boy’s neck and leaned forward to place a kiss against his temple. Alex’s cheeks blushed Willie’s favorite shade of pink, the one that almost matched the hoodie he always wore.

“You looked a little lonely over here. Thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi.”

Alex’s lips parted as he breathed out the word, his eyes softening the way they did every time Willie looked into them for a beat too long. Willie felt his smile widen. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of sweaty band boys and fresh linen and Alex’s honey vanilla shampoo. Alex started to slip his own arms around Willie’s waist, his head tilted up as his gaze fell to his lips. And then an extra loud guitar chord rang out through the amps and Alex jumped, nearly dumping Willie on the ground.

“Alright, lovebirds, enough! I figured out what was wrong with the chord progression. I just gotta switch it from a G chord to a...”

Willie tuned out, never fully able to follow along when Luke got going on a musical tangent. Instead, he pressed one quick kiss to Alex’s lips and stood, slipping out from behind the kit to return to his original position on the couch set up across from where the boys stood to play. Alex watched him with a soft smile and starry eyes before giving his head a quick shake and refocusing on Luke, cheeks still tinged that pale pink that made Willie’s heart soar. Willie tucked the memory away with all his other favorite Alex moments and watched the band get back to it, head bobbing along as he watched his boyfriend shine. And if he made sure to keep his gaze firmly focused on Alex, winking every now and then just so he could see that blush creep back in, well no one else had to know about that but him.

2.

Surprisingly, the hardest part of dating a guy like Alex, a guy who was beautiful and effortlessly sexy and regularly doing something that gave literally anybody a free pass to ogle him for as long as his band was up on stage, was the fact that his boyfriend seemed to have no fucking clue just how attractive he was. And he was also shockingly bad at knowing when someone was hitting on him. Willie was pretty sure if he hadn’t asked Alex on a date after running him over, the guy would have never made a move. And that was afterWillie spent 20 minutes openly flirting with him and dropping ten-ton hints as he helped him clean up and bandage his wounds. It was simultaneously adorable and exhausting, because it meant that sometimes Willie had to watch people chat up his boyfriend while Alex awkwardly bumbled his way through what he assumed was a friendly conversation.

Willie, as a rule, did not get jealous. Jealousy was for people who had trust issues, and Willie trusted Alex more than he had ever trusted a single other person before. So, he wasn’t jealous, per se, as he made his way through the crowd, eyes locked on the back of the guy casually leaning over where Alex was sitting alone in a booth against the wall. He was actually a bit concerned because Alex looked uncomfortable, and he hadn’t thought to tell him that he was gonna make it to the show tonight, which had seemed like a romantic idea at the time but obviously wasn’t because Alex was drumming one of his hands against his thighs and tapping his fingers against the back of his phone on the table in front of him with the other.

He was probably waiting for Willie to call him, because that was something Willie had been doing now that he had gone pro and started traveling for competitions on the weekend instead of showing up at Ebbie’s to cheer on the band from the front row. He had been a little late to snag a front row spot this weekend, barely making it for the last couple of songs in the set. But he had made it, because the competition had ended up getting rained out and Willie had braved the hours of Saturday evening traffic back to LA so that he could see his boyfriend in person instead of through a phone screen.

His boyfriend who was now being hit on by a complete stranger in a crowded bar where Luke and Reggie were nowhere to be found. Willie frowned slightly as he watched Alex draw back into the booth a bit more, both hands picking up speed as they continued to mindlessly tap out a rhythm. No, Willie wasn’t jealous. He was mad that this dude wasn’t picking up on Alex’s cues and backing off. So, now that he was only a few steps away, he skipped forward and made his presence known.

“Hey Hotdog, you looked pretty good up there tonight.”

Alex’s face lit up like the 4th of July, his green gaze skipping past the guy invading his space and latching onto Willie like he was seeing the sun for the first time. Willie felt his lips curve into a soft smile. The unknown guy straightened a bit, eyes skipping back and forth between Alex and Willie, brow furrowed. Willie didn’t have the capacity to help the dude connect the dots, because all he could focus on was Alex and how fast his expression had changed upon hearing Willie’s voice.

“Willie.”

Alex’s tone was quiet and awed, like he had conjured Willie up out of thin air. His hands stilled, and Willie couldn’t resist anymore. He slipped past the stranger who was finally starting to back up and step away, hands raised slightly as if to say sorry, bro, didn’t know you had a boyfriend, and wormed his way into the booth, settling himself on Alex’s lap. Alex leaned forward, his head falling to rest in the crook of Willie’s neck, breath stuttering out and sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin.

“I didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

“Comp got cancelled. And I missed you.”

Willie dropped a kiss on the top of Alex’s blonde head, breathing in the distinct honey-vanilla-laundry scent that always got a bit more intense after a show. Alex’s cheeks warmed, Willie delighting in the fact that he could actually feel the blush against his own skin, and his lips moved against the hollow of Willie’s throat.

“I always miss you.”

The words were tempered with gentle kisses and Willie thought he might melt into the floor right there on the spot. He didn’t censor his next words, let the longing bleed through so Alex understood just how badly he wanted to be with him.

“Come home with me tonight then. I think six months of dating is long enough to move into sleepover territory.”

Alex’s arms squeezed around his waist for a brief second, Willie biting his tongue as he listened to Alex’s breath hitch and then pick up a bit faster than before. He pulled his head out of Willie’s neck, mouth open to answer, when the other two-thirds of Sunset Curve suddenly arrived at the table in their typical whirlwind fashion. They called out happy greetings as they clocked Willie’s arrival, slipping into the other side of the booth. Willie smiled and tried to focus on what they were saying so he could beat back the disappointment of not getting an answer. He only startled slightly when Alex’s lips were suddenly at his ear.

“Six months of dating is definitely long enough. Take me home, pretty boy.”

And Willie felt his own cheeks heat, prayed that Luke and Reggie wouldn’t spot the change in the low light as he settled himself further into Alex’s embrace. He kept himself occupied with linking his fingers through Alex’s where they still wrapped around his waist and tried not to think too much about finally getting to sleep next to the guy he was falling more in love with every day as he counted down the minutes to bar close.

He wasn’t even surprised when he woke up in the morning and realized a feeling of homecoming had settled fully and deeply into his heart and soul. At some point in the last six months home and Alex had become synonymous anyway.

3.

The worst part about getting in a car accident and breaking his leg in three places was the fact that Willie couldn’t skate for several months while he recovered and went through physical therapy and all the other bullshit necessary to make sure he was strong enough to compete at a similar level as before. His sponsors had been understanding and Willie was able to do little things here and there to fulfill his contracts, so he wasn’t too worried about any of that for the time being. Mostly he was just bored and fidgety. But it was okay, because the best part about getting in car accident and breaking his leg in three places was having Alex as his caretaker while he recovered.

Alex, who had shown up at the hospital when Willie was still groggy from surgery and climbed into bed with him and kissed his bruises and told him he loved him. Alex, who had come back to the hospital every chance he got for the week Willie was stuck there post-op. Alex, who had practically moved into Willie’s apartment once he was sent home, even though they had both agreed they weren’t ready to live together yet, because Willie needed someone to help him get to and from the bathroom and shower and Alex was obviously his first choice despite the fact that Willie had three capable roommates who had offered to help.

Alex was the best part about his recovery, hands down. Except for the fact that he seemed to think Willie was made of glass now.

They were supposed to be having a movie night at the Sunset Curve apartment. Willie had gotten his cast off and been switched to a walking boot earlier that day, and he had told Alex he would come by after he left the hospital because he needed a break from the same four walls of his bedroom. Luke and Reggie had sent a text that they were picking up a pizza and drinks, so Willie had hoped for maybe a little bit of make-out action on the couch before they got back. Instead, Alex had fretted and fluttered about, forcing Willie to lay down on the couch with his leg elevated while Alex plumped his pillows and asked him a million times if he was feeling okay. Willie had been about ready to tackle Alex just to get him to shut up, still healing leg be damned, when Luke and Reggie came back.

Then it had been an argument over what to watch with Reggie insisting they hadn’t watched Star Wars recently even though they definitely had, and by the time the yellow words were rolling across the screen Willie realized Alex had opted for the floor next to the couch instead of the actual couch itself. He had his arm stretched out along Willie’s hip, but it wasn’t nearly enough contact. So, Willie swung his legs over the edge of the couch and stood, before unceremoniously dropping himself down directly in Alex’s lap. Alex let out an indignant huff, rolling his eyes as Reggie turned to shush him.

“Willie, what the hell? Get back on the couch, you need to rest your leg.”

Willie rolled his own eyes, snuggling further into Alex’s chest, winding his arms around the back of his neck to play with the blonde hair that was a bit overgrown at the back.

“No, I need to cuddle with my boyfriend. You keep acting like you’re gonna hurt me if you touch me and its honestly pretty rude. I’m not that breakable.”

Alex made sound of protest in the back of his throat, his hands waving around and above Willie’s booted leg.

“Obviously you are very breakable!”

“Yeah, in a fight with a car,” Willie snorted, sighing and refusing to budge even an inch. “You could never hurt me. C’mon, baby, please?”

Alex flushed from head to toe. Willie didn’t usually break out the softer pet names unless they were alone because they kind of made Alex blue screen, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Willie pressed a kiss against Alex’s throbbing pulse as well, in for a penny, in for a pound and all that.

“Guys,” Reggie whined, “can you like...take it to the bedroom or shut up? Some of us are trying to watch the Empire strike back here.”

And Alex, sweet, beautiful, perfect Alex, scooped Willie up like he weighed nothing at all, cheeks still pink and eyes unfocused in a way that told Willie his mind had taken a nosedive into the gutter. He couldn’t help but laugh, clinging on so that he wasn’t complete deadweight in Alex’s very capable arms.

“Dude, seriously?” He heard Luke call out, but the sound was muffled quickly behind Alex’s bedroom door as it closed, the lock clicking into place.

“That wasn’t fair.”

Alex’s tone didn’t match his words, his voice going breathless as he snuggled both of them into the bed, his hands sneaking under the hem of Willie’s crop top to skim along his ribs.

“All’s fair in love and war, babe.”

Willie let Alex swallow the sound of his laugh, lips meeting for the much-anticipated make-out session he had been hoping for earlier. Movie night was forgotten. By the time the sun was rising, Willie was pretty sure he had convinced Alex exactly how not breakable he was.

+1

Alex wasn’t usually the one to initiate physical contact. Willie was completely at ease handing out kisses and hugs and linking their fingers together whenever it suited him, but Alex wasn’t quite as uninhibited. He had gotten better over the last year or so of dating, but he still wasn’t quite as casual with it. It was easier when they were alone, Willie’s lingering glances and complimentary words making him feel bold and confident.

It was kind of a running joke between them, the fact that Alex had initiated their first kiss so suddenly only to then spend the rest of their relationship holding himself back a bit. And even though Willie never meant it as more than a tease, Alex had been genuinely trying to change that about himself. He had started therapy and he was doing the work to unpack all of the ways his parents had fucked him up over the years. He was learning and growing, and not just for Willie, but for himself. It was nice.

Okay, it was really fucking hard and stressful. But it was also kind of working. Alex had found himself feeling a lot less anxious, especially when Willie was out of town competing and Alex had flashbacks to the car accident and other minor injuries Willie had sustained while on the road. He had learned some new coping mechanisms, and he had started to be a bit freer with his own physical affection. Which definitely had some very nice side effects.

Side effects like finally being the one to make Willie blush and blank out for once.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. They had been dating for over a year, they regularly spent the night together, they were fully committed to each other. They had sex for Christ’s sake, so nothing should have felt like too much intimacy wise. And it didn’t. Until they were at some BBQ for one of Willie’s skater friends and Alex started to feel a bit overwhelmed, but instead of taking himself into the bathroom to have a quiet moment and pull it together, he found Willie, sitting next to a fire pit with a beer in hand. He didn’t even think twice before dropping into his lap and snatching the can from Willie’s grasp to steal a sip.

The contact was instantly comforting, and Alex suddenly realized that must be why Willie was constantly crawling into his own lap. It felt cozy and safe in his boyfriend’s arms, every part of him warm and close enough for Alex to inhale the scent of coconut shampoo mixed with cherry Chapstick. It was only when he went to return the beer can to Willie that he realized he had kind of frozen. For one second, Alex let himself panic that he had gone too far, done something wrong that would end up ruining everything, and then he realized Willie was breathing a lot faster than normal, one of his hands finding purchase against Alex’s waist and squeezing. The conversation carried on around them, but time seemed to stand still within their own personal little bubble.

“Alex, you cannot just do that and expect me not to want you six ways to Sunday now.”

Willie’s breath was hot against Alex’s neck, his words coming out fast and furious like he had to say them all now before he couldn’t speak at all. Alex felt his cheeks warm as he turned his head slightly to meet Willie’s eyes. His pupils were wide, cheeks the kind of ruddy dark brown that Alex had learned meant he was definitely blushing too. The fingers on the hand that was clenched around Alex’s hip danced across the thin strip of skin between his pants and his shirt, drawing a series of patterns across Alex’s side that made him shiver. Willie groaned beneath him, the sound breathless and just loud enough for Alex to hear. He smirked, wiggling a little like he was trying to get more comfortable.

“Lex, I swear to God I will make out with you so hard right in front of all these people. It won’t bother me. You gotta stop it unless you’re willing to risk that.”

Alex kinda wanted to risk it. Knowing he made Willie feel that out of control was a huge rush. God, he really should have taken advantage of all this physical stuff a lot earlier, huh?

“You wanna make out with me here, or you wanna make out with me back at your apartment?”

Alex kept his voice hushed, dipping his head so his lips were right next to Willie’s ear. Willie shuddered beneath him and then downed his beer in one long swallow. He nudged Alex to standing, following him but not moving out from his spot slightly behind him as his hand fit itself more snuggly into place along Alex’s waist.

“Gents,” he addressed the other skaters scattered around the fire with a two fingered salute, “Lex and I gotta get going. Got some plans to take care of.”

Alex tried not to snort and blush at the obvious undertone to Willie’s words. The rest of the group had no such qualms, hooting and hollering as Willie practically dragged Alex out of the back yard, hand raising to give them a middle finger when Alex heard Max call out get you some, Stewart! Alex laughed, stepping up close behind Willie as they came around to the front of the house, voice dipping low in a tease.

“Jeez, Wils, who knew sitting in your lap would do it for you?”

Willie turned without warning, catching Alex before he could trip into him and surging forward to connect their lips in a kiss that featured a bit more teeth than usual.

“You do it for me, Alex. It’s all you, all the time. God, I fucking love you.”

Alex didn’t get a chance to respond before Willie was pulling away and ushering Alex into his car. He linked their hands together on the console between the seats, and Alex didn’t even complain once about his speeding. He was too busy thinking up all the other things he could do to make Willie lose it in public like that again. He had a lot of time to make up for, and the rest of their lives to do so.