#but I can continue on for these next 4 years. I can certainly fight it now. And I fucking will.

[bear-cubs-art-things]

Shout out to my friend for giving me hope for what's to come

Im feeling better. Maybe not completely but enough to come to terms with what's happening.

We will make it. This will end. "World War II had to end eventually" as to quote my friend. Things will get better. Maybe not now, but eventually.

We can do this.

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - A Messy Fight

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

On their way to face Queen, Kris and the Fun Gang run into Tasque Manager, who demands impossible standards of order. Her criticisms might feel a little too familiar to Kris...but at least the rest of the Fun Gang have their back!

YAY, it's nice to finally get another comic all finished! This one obviously had to go on hold for awhile from my wrist injury. While I'm working on recovering, things are still going to be slow for awhile (probably the rest of the year), so it may be another wait before the next scene.

Alt text for these pages under the read more:

Page 1

Panel 1 - Kris, Ralsei, Susie and Noelle walk down a long, uniform stone hallway. Eyeless porcelain gargoyles shaped like big cats stand watch from atop pillars in the hallway. As they walk, Ralsei says, “We’re getting closer to Queen’s chambers. Stay on the alert, Kris!”

Panel 2 - Kris responds with a quick “I am.” As the Fun Gang continues down the hallway, one of the porcelain gargoyles turns its head to follow them.

Panel 3 - Im a medium shot, Lancer pops up from within Susie’s hair, and waves at Kris. He says, “Hey human person, is it hard to stay alert with all that hair in your eyes?” Susie grins, and sticks out her tongue in joking agreement. “Yeah, it’s gettin’ even messier.” Unbeknownst to the Fun Gang, in the background, one of the gargoyles starts to climb down the pillar.

Panel 4 - Closeup on Kris as they brush their long and messy hair out of their face. “I can see just fine,” they respond.

Panel 5 - Two of the gargoyles land on the ground, the panel’s focus on their clawed paws tapping against the stones.

Page 2 Panel 1 - Noelle turns her head, one ear perked up to listen to what’s behind them. She says, “Wait. I hear something…”

Panel 2 - Closeup on the clawed paws of the gargoyles as they charge forward.

Panel 3 - Closeup on Kris as they turn at the sound, reaching for their sword.

Panel 4 - Wide shot of the Fun Gang. They suddenly find themselves surrounded on all sides by four porcelain big cats, all snarling as they circle them. Susie glares back.

Panel 5 - Susie turns back to Lancer, still poking out of her hair. She says, “Uugh, more jerks! Better hide again.” Lancer responds with a disappointed “Aw man…” but does as he’s asked.

Panel 6 - “What are these things?” Kris asks, eyeing a gargoyle circling them, and keeping one hand on their sword hilt. “They’re tasques!” replies Ralsei.

Page 3

Panel 1 - Ralsei turns expectantly, looking ahead. “That means that their *manager* must be near…”

Panel 2 - Closeup on an armored boot as it steps into the middle of the hall. 

Panel 3 - The boot belongs to Tasque Manager. She appears as an armored knight with impeccably polished plate armor, decorated with sharp V-shaped emblems. She appears human in stature, except for her head, which is the bleached skull of a big cat, and with pointed ears. She wields a flail with seven spiked spheres on the end of a collection of cords. She holds up her hand, and says, “Halt, interlopers! I will not permit you to approach the Queen!”

Panel 4 - The Fun Gang remain surrounded by the gargoyles, but Kris still looks ready to fight. Susie sneers at Tasque Manager, and says, “Since when do we need *your* permission?” She responds, “I maintain *order* and *cleanliness* in this dwelling.”

Panel 5 - Straight on shot of Tasque Manager’s face, emphasizing her symmetry and sense of order. “Do you truly think you are worthy…of Queen’s presence in your disorderly state?”

Page 4

Panel 1 - Full shot of the Fun Gang just staring back. They all look pretty haggard, unkempt and gross in their own ways.

Panel 2 - Same shot as previous, although now Noelle tilts her head to the side. “Um…yes?” she offers quietly.

Ralsei helpfully gestures to Kris beside him. “Certainly! Kris even bathed just two weeks ago.”

Panel 3 - Tasque Manager is not having it, and yells back at the group: “LIES!! I can see the *filth* all over you, human! I can smell your STENCH!”

Panel 4 - She continues, “You’re unfit for these halls…you belong in the wastes that you reek of!” The insults are especially focused on Kris.

Panel 5 - Kris shuts their eyes, remembering something from their past…

Panel 6 - A series of flashback images, to when Kris was just a little kid, living as an orphan on the streets. They try to sneak around the back of a food stand in the market, looking for something to eat, when they’re spotted by an empire soldier in armor.

The soldier yanks them up roughly by the shirt and yells in their face: “What’re you doing around here, you filthy urchin?! This is a *nice* place!”

The soldier then throws Kris down into the gutter, splashing street water all over them. “Go stink up a gutter where you belong!” the soldier screams. 

Page 5

Panel 1 - Kris opens their eyes again, grimacing. This is clearly an unpleasant memory for them.

Panel 2 - They pull out their sword, and point it towards Tasque Manager. “Maybe my stench will give your dull and tasteless halls some character,” they say.

Panel 3 - Extreme close up on Tasque Manager’s unnaturally sharp teeth. “Human…”

Panel 4 - “I’ll flay your filthy skin from your bones!” she shrieks, and pulls the flail tight in front of her, ready to fight.

Panel 5 - Ralsei immediately teleports out of the range of battle with a burst of flame and smoke. Kris and the beasts eye the gargoyles as they begin to close in on them.

Panel 6 - “Susie! Noelle!” Kris begins the fight by giving them the ACT command. 

Panel 7 - Closeup on Noelle as she opens her mouth and uses her icy breath attack, aiming at one of the gargoyles.

Pavel 8 - However, the gargoyle runs just out of range of the incoming frost, and sprints towards Susie’s unprotected right side.

Page 6

Panel 1 - Closeup as the gargoyle leaps onto Susie and sinks its large teeth into her side, latching on like a lamprey eel. 

Panel 2 - Susie roars in pain and anger at the gargoyle, even as another one coming in from her left bites down into an empty space on her chest.

Panel 3 - Wide shot as the beasts struggle to shake off the gargoyles, but they’re too hard to reach. One more bites into Noelle’s flank, while the last circles, looking for another opening. In the foreground, Kris faces Tasque Manager in one on one combat.

Panel 4 - Kris, being less skilled at swordfighting, only manages to block incoming hits from the flail. All the while, Tasque Manager yells at them: “You humans are so *irrational! Unorderly!*” 

Panel 5 - Tasque Manager flings the flail at Kris’s face as she continues: “Wretched, chaotic creatures…it’s horrid how the gods and demons here desire your souls!”

Panel 6 - Kris remains face to face with Tasque Manager, the flail partially wrapped around their sword…way too close to their face. Still, they are curious about her statement. “Horrid? Never come across a human soul pure enough for you?” they ask.

Page 7

Panel 1 - Tasque Manager leans in to grab the flail, as Kris struggles to keep appropriate space between them. “Never. There is no such thing as a pure human soul,” she replies. 

Panel 2 - Noelle runs in a circle with the gargoyle still attached to her flank. Behind her, Susie lashes her tail angrily, trying to shake off the two biting into her own hide.

Panel 3 - In a fit of desperation, Susie finally rolls onto her side, trying to crush the gargoyle against the stone floor. A sound like breaking glass is heard.

Panel 4 - When she raises up again, the gargoyle is now in shattered porcelain pieces on the floor, although it did leave a nasty wound behind.

Panel 5 - Noelle turns her head, noticing the shattered remains. “Oh, Susie! They break like stone!”

Panel 6 - Susie also takes note of the shattered gargoyle, and gets an idea.

Panel 7 - Thinking fast, she goes and snaps her jaws around the gargoyle on Noelle’s flank, and tears it free.

Panel 8 - Still with one more gargoyle hanging from her neck, she swings her head around in a wide arc and tosses the gargoyle in her jaws at the far wall.

Page 8

Panel 1 - The gargoyle hits a pillar by the far wall, and shatters like porcelain.

Panel 2 - Tasque Manager is momentarily drawn away from Kris as she notices her shattered minions’ remains cluttering up the pristine floor. She shakes with rage. “You’re all making…”

Panel 3 - “SUCH A HORRIBLE MESS!” she screams, and rears back to attack Kris with her flail again.

Panels 4-5 - Kris is momentarily struck by another memory, and they wince in anticipation.

Panel 6 - In a flashback scene. Kris has somehow knocked over a cart full of fruits, and they lay scattered across the cobblestones, broken and smashed. An angry vendor stands nearby. 

Meanwhile, another empire soldier is already there, and grabs Kris by the hair. “LOOK AT THIS MESS YOU’VE MADE!” he screams, shaking Kris. 

Panel 7 - Tasque Manager charges forward, the flail coming in fast at Kris…

Panel 8 - And hits home, striking the, in the head, above their eye. Blood bursts from the head wound.

Page 9

Panel 1 - “KRIS!!” Closeup on Ralsei as he yells in alarm, his eyes wide.

Panel 2 - Kris staggers backward, shaking, and pressing their left hand to their temple.

Panel 3 - Closeup as Kris pulls their hand away, and finds it covered in blood.

Panel 4 -  Meanwhile, Susie rolls onto her chest again, crushing the gargoyle on her neck against the floor. It crunches into pieces like the others.

Panel 5 - In the background, Susie gets up and brushes the remaining shards off her neck. In the foreground, Noelle stomps the remaining gargoyle into pieces with her hooves.

Panel 6 - Kris turns and looks up at Tasque Manager. She raises her flail to strike once again. 

Panel 7 - Despite the fact that Kris is bleeding considerably from the head wound, they smile with realization, and charge in towards Tasque Manager. “The best part about human messes…”

Panel 8 - Tasque Manager takes a wide swing with her flail, but Kris swiftly ducks under it, and slides in close to her. 

Page 10

Panel 1 - Kris finishes, “Is that you can *always* make them worse!” Kris leaps up in front of Tasque Manager, and smears the blood on their hand across her polished breastplate. 

Panel 2 - Tasque Manager pulls back and shrieks in horror at the bloody stain on her armor, both arms raised.

Panel 3 - Kris pulls back, their head still bleeding, and points decisively at Tasque Manager. Noelle and Susie are standing ready behind them, and they give the [FIGHT] command.

Panel 4 - Tasque Manager tries in vain to wipe the blood off her armor, temporarily distracted…

Panel 5 - Which is enough time for Susie to come in from above and snap her jaws around Tasque Manager. She screams, and drops her flail.

Panel 6 - In a wider shot, Kris and Noelle look on as Noelle violently shakes her head with Tasque Manager in her jaws, like a dog shaking a chew toy. Pieces of her armor fly out as she’s tossed back and forth.

Page 11

Panel 1 - Finished with her attack, Susie spits out Tasque Manager, now a complete disassembled mess of armor and bone. Her pieces scatter across the stone floor.

Panel 2 - Noelle opens her mouth wide, and uses her frost breath again…

Panel 3 - …And her icy breath freezes the scattered pieces to the floor, leaving no chance of an easy reforming. Kris watches as the cat skull head skids free of the rest of the mess…

Panel 4 - And slides to a stop by their feet. Although broken up and frozen, Tasque Manager’s severed head can still speak, albeit weakly. “So disordered…scattered…filthy…”

Panel 5 - Low angle shot at the skull glares up at Kris with contempt. Kris has won, but she still has last insults to get in: “No wonder…you were discarded…”

Panel 6 - Kris closes their eyes again, another flashback coming back…

Panel 7 - Another series of flashback images to a younger, orphan Kris. They’re hiding in a pile of trash behind some boxes, shivering, terrified of encountering another soldier. Someone else can be seen approaching.

“Hey…” Kris looks up from their hiding position at the sound of a calmer voice. They see a hand being extended to them.

The hand belongs to a younger Asriel, reaching down to help them up. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Page 12 Panel 1 - Back in the present, Ralsei approaches Kris again, putting a reassuring hand on their shoulder. He smiles down at them. “Well done, Kris! We’re that much closer to Queen now.”

Panel 2 - Higher shot as the Fun Gang begins to regroup ans start back down the hall again. Susie leans back towards the frozen and broken Tasque Manager with a taunt: “Good luck cleaning *that* up, you stupid snob!”

Panel 3 - Lancer pops back out of Susie’s hair, one hand raised to his head to look around. “Did we win?” he asks.

“Obviously!” Susie replies with a grin.

Panel 4 - Lancer turns to Kris, who is walking at the head of the party. “Wow! I guess you really *can* see through that string bean hair!” Kris is still injured and messy, but doesn’t seem to mind. “Well enough.”

Panel 5 - A shot from behind the Fun Gang as they continue down the dark hall, heading towards the Queen. Behind them lies a giant mess of shattered porcelain, frozen armor pieces and broken bones. “You know…” Kris says, “I think I will let it grow wild and ugly for the foreseeable future.”

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 4)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

Rafe had his head down on the rusting metal table. The sheriff’s deputies had all taken turns trying to interrogate him about the events of the day before, but none of them had succeeded in getting him to admit his father was on that plane. His hands were still bloody from the fight and he was exhausted, having been awake for nearly 48-hours.

The door creaked open again, but he didn’t bother lifting his head, anticipating another round of questions he wasn’t going to answer.

“Well,” Shoupe said with a sigh. “You’re free to go.”

Rafe raised his head with a smug smile. “What’s the matter, Shoupe? Couldn’t make anything stick?”

Shoupe rolled his eyes, “just stay on the island, alright? We’re not done with you yet.”

“Actually, sounds like you are,” Rafe stood and patted Shoupe’s shoulder condescendingly as he started walking towards the door.

“Funny, I didn’t think there was anyone left on this island who cared enough about you to wait in the station lobby all night, but apparently I was wrong,” Shoupe said as Rafe opened the door.

Keeping his back turned, Rafe stood in the doorway with his brow furrowed. He didn’t want to give Shoupe the satisfaction of knowing he also had no idea who could care enough about him to be there. 

As he passed the rest of the officers, standing there watching him in disgust and disbelief that he was getting away again, he gave them a smirk and a mocking salute, “a pleasure as always.”

You shifted in the uncomfortable lobby seat, continuously fidgeting both from discomfort and panic at the idea of seeing Rafe. When you had approached the front desk and told them you were here to post bail for Rafe Cameron, the woman behind the counter looked at you annoyed and informed you that you couldn’t, as Rafe hadn’t officially been charged yet.

“Charged with what?” You asked.

She rolled her eyes at your naivete and returned to the sudoku she had been working on.

“Okay, then,” you said as you took a seat in the empty waiting area. 

That was six hours ago, but you figured if he hadn’t been charged, they would have to release him eventually, and you’d be here waiting. You had no earthly idea what you would say to him when the time came, but you’d be here, and maybe that would be enough.

He strutted into the lobby like he owned the place, his cocky walk coming to an abrupt halt when he looked up and saw you sitting there. You rose to your feet, shocked at the sight of him even though it was all you had been thinking about since you ran out of the cemetery hours ago.

Rafe looked at you with an expression you hadn’t seen before. In his eyes, you could see his brain at work, like he was calculating. What choices he was weighing, you weren’t sure, but you certainly didn’t expect the move he made next.

“Hey, baby!” He called out, striding toward you quickly, pulling you into his arms. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, he kissed you. It was sloppy and crude, his tongue invading your mouth as hands grabbed your ass, lifting you into the air. Your face burned with shock and embarrassment, knowing all of the cops in the station could see you two. Then it clicked - that’s exactly why Rafe was doing it.

Before had a chance to decide if you were going to play along or slap him, he broke the kiss and threw his arm around your shoulders, walking you toward the front door.

“Later, Shoupe!” Rafe called over his shoulder, turning the two of you slightly, allowing you to get a quick look at Shoupe standing with his hands on his hips, red in the face. What the fuck did Rafe do to make Shoupe look at him like that?

You stayed silent as Rafe walked you through the door, leading you down the block and turning onto a side street. The second you were out of sight of the station, he pulled his arm away and took several long strides to create as much space between you as possible.

He looked at you for a long moment, once again calculating his next move. You froze in anticipation as he opened his mouth to say something, heart dropping when he changed his mind and closed it again. Silently, he turned and started walking away from you down the street.

“My car’s the other way,” you said, feeling stupid for saying such a mundane thing in such a heated moment.

“Have a nice walk then,” he called back sarcastically.

“Where are you going?” 

“Home,” he was almost too far for you to hear now. You started after him, needing to jog a bit to catch up with him.

“Let me give you a ride,” you panted once you had caught up to him, stepping in front of him to stop him from getting any further away.

“Think I’d rather walk,” he said dismissively. 

“It’s 10pm, and you’re gonna what? Walk through The Cut in the middle of the night? I know I’ve been gone for a while, but I don’t think they’ve changed their opinion on having Kooks in their territory,” you were pulling out any logic you could think of to get him into your car so you could finally talk to him.

Taking your point, he rolled his eyes and turned around, walking in the direction you had indicated your car was in.

You drove in silence for what felt like an hour, but couldn’t have been, as you knew the drive to Tannyhill was fifteen minutes tops. Rafe was looking out the window, hands anxiously rubbing up and down his thighs as he kept shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he was fighting against some invisible restraint. You were trying hard to keep your eyes on the road, but couldn’t control the way they kept drifting over to him, eyeing the blood on his battered hands. The remnants of what was clearly not a good forty-eight hours all over him.

You had so many things you wanted to say, so many questions you wanted to ask him, that you almost couldn’t think straight. You were still reeling from the news that his father had died, and now the sight of him walking out of the sheriff’s station covered in blood. If so much could happen to him in just a few weeks, you didn’t even want to think about how much of his life you missed in the last two years.

After a while, the silence so tense it almost hurt, you decided to dip your toe in the water.

“Is it yours?” You asked, forcing your eyes to stay on the road.

“What?” He mumbled as he ran his hands over his buzzed head, still not looking at you.

“The blood,” you clarified.

“Some of it,” he answered honestly.

You nodded, as though this was all super normal. “And the rest of it?”

He threw his head back on the seat and let out a forceful sigh, pointedly not answering your question. You decided you’d tested the waters enough and remained silent the rest of the drive.

When you pulled up to the gate at Tannyhill, you rolled down the window so you could reach the box to put the code in, looking at Rafe expectedly. Your attempted nonchalance didn’t work, he rolled his eyes at you, pulling out his phone. As he typed the code into his app, he used his other hand to cover the numbers from your view. Long gone were the days he’d text you the code the second Ward changed it so you could sneak in and out to see him whenever you wanted. The days he’d hold you until you fell asleep, whispering to you about how someday he’d inherit this house and share it with you. As you watched the gates slowly open in the glow of your headlights, the future you once believed in so fiercely had never felt further away.

You drove slowly down the long drive toward the house, surprised to see it was completely dark.

“Where is everyone? Where’s Sarah?” You asked. 

“Just drop me here,” Rafe ignored your question.

You stopped the car a few yards from the front door, and Rafe immediately climbed out, closing the door loudly behind him and walking toward the house. You weren’t exactly expecting him to invite you in, but this non-goodbye was so abrupt you felt cheated. Your mind raced with all the things you still wanted to say as you watched Rafe walking toward the house, your chance to finally say them going with him.

You snapped out of your haze and threw open the car door, not bothering to close it behind you as you ran after him calling, “wait!”

He turned on you quickly, making you stop in your tracks a few feet from him. Suddenly, all the things you wanted to say disappeared from your mind and you swallowed hard.

“What do you want?” He prompted, looking annoyed at how long it was taking you to form a sentence. “Why the hell were you at the station?”

“I just…” you could feel him preparing to turn and keep walking back towards the house, you needed to say something, fast. “Your dad.”

Rafe clenched his jaw, he didn’t know what you had heard and wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“I’m…” you took one step towards him. “Rafe, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He left the question open ended, forcing you to reveal exactly how much you knew.

“I saw his plot, at the cemetery,” you didn’t need to tell Rafe what you were doing at the cemetery, he had been there with you on multiple occasions, including the day they buried your own father.

Rafe just shrugged, looking at the ground to avoid your empathetic gaze.

“Rafe,” you said quietly, the sound of his name on your tongue sending chills through you both. When he still didn’t look up at you, you stepped closer. He tried to dodge your eyeline, but you reached up gently and placed your fingers under his jaw, looking him straight in the eye as you asked, “what’s going on?”

For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, chest to chest as you searched each other’s faces in the glow of the moon. If he’d let you, you would stand there for hours, just studying him, trying to read it all on his face. You used to know the meaning of every expression he made, every glint in his eye, every twitch of his lips. The two of you used to be able to have full conversations without saying a word. Now, your eyes searched every inch of his face, and you were coming up with nothing. 

He snapped his head back suddenly, ripping it away from your hand like you were burning him. He shook his head, and he wasn’t sure who he was saying no to- you or himself. 

“Just go home, y/n,” he said, arm outstretched, gesturing towards your car dismissively. 

“I can’t,” you spoke into the darkness. 

Rafe caught himself before asking you why, trying to preserve the image that he didn’t care. He assumed it had something to do with your mom. He had spent countless hours of his life listening to your stories of fights with your mother, even being present and involved in several of them, often being the source of the conflict. He swallowed the temptation to ask you what happened, pushing away the desire to have you laying with your head in his lap, gently playing with your hair as he let you rant as long as it took for you to feel better. He pushed the memory away, an action that was muscle memory to him at this point. 

“Well you can’t stay here,” he told you.

“But I just want to-”

“Just leave! We both know you know how to, you’re a fucking professional at it!” His booming voice echoed through the evening air and shot straight through you.

Tears sprang to your eyes, the sound of his raised voice so jarring. He had never screamed at you like this. Even in moments of frustration, just the thought of making you cry was enough to break him. 

You closed your eyes, letting the tears slip through and slide down your cheeks. You turned from him, but he’d already seen them. Guilt and fury battled in his chest, wanting to hold you and push you away at the same time. He hated the sight of your tears, but being able to release the hurt and anger he’d been feeling for two years felt somewhat satisfying, too. He felt like he was two completely different people, not sure he wanted to be either of them.

You sniffled and wiped your tears with the backs of your hands, gathering yourself before turning back to him.

“I know that I hurt you,” you said. “But I have my side of the story, too.”

“The story?” he scoffed. “You said you’d love me forever and then you didn’t. You said you wouldn’t disappear into the night and that’s exactly what you did. You’re a liar. That’s the story.”

Every day for two years, you had broken your own heart. You had never stopped trying to fight the demons of that night. You had devoted your life to trying to figure out what the hell had happened that could’ve ended with you on a train, riding off into the night against your will. For two years, you’d spent your nights praying to any God that would listen to let you go back in time, to undo this twisted fate. 

But none of those agonizing nights hurt quite like this. He really thought you had wanted to leave? That you just up and stopped loving him? You knew he had no way of knowing what really happened, but you were still clinging to some small shred of hope that he’d give you the benefit of the doubt. Clearly he hadn’t. 

“Is that what you think?” You asked in a small voice.

“That’s what I know,” he corrected. 

No words came to you as all of the tiny cracks in your heart you had worked so hard to fill ripped open again. Rafe only took your silence as confirmation.

“Let it go, y/n,” he said, turning to walk towards the house. “I have.”

With that, he closed the door firmly behind him, the lock clicking loudly.

So that was it then. Seven years of friendship, five years of wild love, two years of heartbreak. Fourteen years of him gone, the rest of your life without him a sprawling void ahead of you. The kiss you shared in the sheriff’s station would be your last. Your last kiss and it wasn’t even real, the agony of that thought pushed you ever the edge and the tears you’ve been trying to stifle flowed free. Shoulders shaking with your sobs, you forced yourself to walk back to the car, no idea where you’d go once you were in it.

The door was still open, but the light had gone out. Once inside, you turned the key and the engine sputtered meekly as you tried and failed to turn it over. 

“Shit!” You screamed, slamming your hands against the steering wheel. Leaving the door open must’ve killed the battery. You cursed your mom for insisting on still driving this piece of shit even though she could easily afford an upgrade.

A professional leaver, Rafe had called you. The irony that just minutes after he said that you were literally unable to leave made you chuckle humorlessly. All of the emotion of this week weighing on your shoulders, you sat and cry-laughed into the darkness, feeling completely unhinged. What was supposed to be a quick, uneventful trip to your hometown had turned into a complete shitshow, you don’t know why you expected anything less.

You sat in the dark, giving up on trying to start the car. What were you supposed to do here? You could either knock on the door and chance another verbal bruising from Rafe, or walk home in the dead of night and face your mother. You fell asleep trying to decide which was worse.

Seven Years Earlier…

There were so many people packed into your house, you assumed nobody would notice when you slipped out and hopped on your bike. You were wrong. Rafe saw your bike lying on its side on the path leading down toward the beach, you hadn’t even bothered to put up the kickstand. 

He followed your footsteps down to the water. It was chilly and raining, the beach completely clear of people. The rain was falling hard, washing your footsteps from the sand, but he managed to follow what was left of them to the abandoned lifeguard tower you used to climb on as kids. There you were, sitting underneath the wooden structure for shelter, feet digging into the sand as you hugged your knees to your chest. Rafe stopped short, he hated seeing you upset, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do to make you feel better. He had never been very good at feelings.

He decided he would approach you anyway, not saying anything in order to avoid saying the wrong thing. He ducked down and slid between the stilts of the tower, finding a space on the ground next to you.

You didn’t have to look over to know who it was, you could feel him. You were relieved when Rafe didn’t say anything, you were so overwhelmed by the chaos of the day, you couldn’t form words to explain it if you tried. After a few minutes, you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and they began rolling down your face in big, fat drops. 

“Hey, hey,” Rafe said, startled by your sudden outburst. He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him. You laid your head on his shoulder and he awkwardly rubbed his hand up and down your back. “It’s…it’s gonna be ok,” he said hesitantly, terrified he’d somehow make you feel worse.

The soft fabric of the black dress your mother had chosen for you to wear to your father’s wake felt nice under his fingertips. His hand grazing softly up and down your back felt nice as you let the tears fall. You let Rafe soothe you for a few minutes, before taking a deep breath and wiping your tears away with the back of your hands.

“Sorry,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” he assured with a sincerity that almost made you start crying again. 

You looked over at him for the first time, his hair messy and wet from walking all the way here from your house in the rain. His cheeks were pink from the chilly air and the bashfulness he was feeling from sharing such an intimate moment with you. You had always thought he was cute, but in this moment, you realized you absolutely adored him.

“I just didn’t want to be there anymore,” you explained. “I don’t even know half of those people and everyone just kept hugging me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be there either,” he reassured you.

You nodded, sniffling, and giving him a thankful smile. Without really thinking it through he reached out a shaky hand and wiped the remaining tears off your cheeks. His hand lingered, and you placed yours on top of it, squeezing gently with appreciation. The contact made both of you blush and you looked away from each other. You had been friends since you were both six-years-old, of course you had touched before, but something about this time felt different.

“I know how you feel,” he said in a voice so quiet that you could barely hear it over the pattering of rain on the wooden structure above you and the crashing of waves. 

That’s right. In the storm of your own grief you had almost forgotten that Rafe had once lost a parent, too. It was about a year after you got to the island, he had missed two weeks of school in the third grade. When he came back, he started his still-running reign of principal’s office MVP.  

“I know it feels like maybe you won’t ever be happy again,” he looked out at the ocean, afraid you would notice the water starting to collect in the corners of his eyes. “But you will be. You’ll find something that makes you happy, and soon it won’t hurt so bad.”

“Did you?” You asked.

“Did I what?”

“Find something that made you happy again?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

Rafe looked down at his feet shyly, his hand scratching the back of his neck in discomfort. You teasingly elbowed him, making him laugh. He swallowed hard before mumbling, “you.”

Your stomach flipped and your face went beat red, completely caught off guard by his answer. Once again, your heart ached with the affection you felt for him. You reached out and lightly tucked your fingers under his chin, pulling his face up to meet your gaze.

“You make me happy, too,” you confessed. 

You had never done it before, and you weren’t really sure how to, but you knew that you just had to kiss him. Rafe had the same idea, and met you half-way with his own lips puckered. 

It was quick and innocent, the first of a million kisses you’d share. You didn’t know how it was possible to feel so sad and so happy at the same time, but you felt as though you could face anything now that you knew you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Now…

TAP TAP TAP. Your eyes flew open as you lifted your head from the window and took in your surroundings, unsure of where you were. As your blurry surroundings came into focus, you were pulled down from your post-sleep haze by the looming figure of the man on the other side of the window. Rafe stood outside your car window, holding up a steaming mug of coffee. 

You rolled the window down, smiling shyly at Rafe as you blinked rapidly in the soft morning light. 

“Hi,” you said weakly.

“You sleep here?” He asked with neither amusement nor annoyance in his voice.

“The car wouldn’t start,” you explained. “I think the battery died.”

“You could’ve told me, I could’ve called Triple A,” he chided.

“I wasn’t sure you would’ve opened the door if I knocked,” you pointed out.

“That’s fair,” he agreed. The gentleness he was speaking to you with now was in such stark contrast to the tone he’d used last night. You didn’t want to say anything, scared to disturb the calm waters.

He handed the coffee to you, which you accepted gratefully. You took a sip, two creams and one sugar - he remembered. 

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“You can come inside while I call someone to come jump the car,” he offered.

You were so confused, but didn’t want to question it. You simply nodded as he opened the car door for you so you could climb out without spilling the coffee. 

After calling Triple A, Rafe joined you on the back porch, now with his own cup of coffee.

“Still take yours black?” You asked.

“The way coffee should be?” He teased. “Yes, yes I do.”

You smiled and you shook your head at him, clutching your coffee and looking out at the sun rising over the sea. The two of you sat in silence for a while on opposite sides of the wicker patio couch, sipping your coffees and avoiding each other’s eyes. 

You thought through the events of yesterday, remembering everything Rafe had said, and everything you wanted to say but hadn’t been able to. Rafe’s words were so cruel, but you got the sense he had fully believed everything he said. You thought you would never get the chance to respond to his accusations, but your car troubles had given you this extra time with him, and you didn’t want to waste the second chance. Should you make a joke? Try to tease him some more about his coffee preferences? Should you ask about his dad, or the reason he had been taken in to the sheriff’s office for questioning? Rafe clearly didn’t want to talk about his dad, and if this was your last chance to talk to him, you didn’t want to waste it on small talk. You decided your only option was to talk about yourself, about how you are feeling, and let him decide if he wanted to hear it or not.

“You’re wrong,” you said, sitting up to look at him. 

Your direct words startled him and he snapped his head to you, also sitting up straight.

“About what?” He says defensively. 

You look at him, hoping he can’t tell that your heartbeat is spiking and your throat is tight with anxiety. You need what you’re about to say to come out confidently, you need to say it with your chest or you may as well not say it at all.

“I never lied to you,” you told him. “And I never stopped loving you.”

Rafe’s face went pale, not at all expecting you to say that. He set his coffee down and got up from the couch, walking quickly back into the house and leaving you sitting alone, heart in hand. 

You followed him into the house, feet padding on the wooden floor behind him.

“Please just talk to me,” you pleaded.

He rounded on you, forcing you to step back.

“Don’t say shit like that!” He yelled.

“Don’t yell at me!” You matched his energy. “You never used to yell at me.”

“You left, y/n! What was I supposed to do, stay exactly the same and wait patiently for you to come back from God-knows-where like a good boy? No!” He jammed his finger into his chest, “I grew up! I became a fucking man! And now you wanna just waltz in like nothing fucking happened? It’s too late for that!”

You didn’t cower, but got closer to him with each proclamation he made. You found something in you that you hadn’t had last night, something like courage.

“You’re fucking right you changed! You know how I know? The old Rafe would’ve listened to me for two fucking seconds so I could explain!”

“I don’t wanna hear any fucking excuses-”

“I’m not making excuses! If you’d let me speak for two fucking seconds, you’d know that!” 

“There’s nothing you could say that would make me not pissed at you,” his voice was lowered but still filled with vitriol.

“You know what? Fine,” you shot back. “Be pissed at me. But I’ve had a long, unbelievably shitty two years and I’m not gonna stand here and let you scream at me as if you’ve never done anything wrong, ‘cause we both know that’s far from the truth.”

Rafe looked at you like you had smacked him, surprise flashing across his face. Of course, he knew you were referring to the accident and the things that happened before you left, right? His face smoothed over with recognition, maybe even relief.

“You’re talking about the accident,” he confirmed.

“Yes, I’m talking about the accident,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “What else would I be talking about?”

He shook his head, “nothing.”

“Unless there’s something you want to tell me?” Like maybe why you were held for questioning by the police for 24-hours, covered in someone else’s blood. 

Rafe studied you for any sign that you knew what had really been going on the past few months. You were looking at him so intensely, it was impossible to read your face. He couldn’t bear the thought that you knew what he’d done, what he’d become. And even though he was still pissed at you, still hurt, no matter your supposed explanation for leaving, he was desperate for you to remember him as the person he was before. He needed you to believe he was good. 

He drank you in for a long time, standing there with your arms crossed, looking up at him expectantly. Your hair was still messy from your night of tossing and turning in the car. You definitely looked older, but you were still so essentially you. He knew you wouldn’t let him stall much longer, that he would need to respond eventually. So he did.

Rafe stepped closer to you, his tall frame requiring you to tilt your head back to look up at him. He grabbed each of your forearms, pulling them apart, forcing you to uncross them and lose your defensive stance.

“There’s a lot of things I’ve wanted to tell you,” he whispered in a low voice, sending a shiver down your spine. “And things I’ve wanted to show you.”

You feel your new-found courage faltering, but try your best to maintain your confident facade as you respond, “like what?” The small amount of air between you is so tense, you’re being pulled to him like a magnet. You know, you know, you shouldn’t do this. There is so much you need to talk about, so many things left unresolved. But then he licks his lips, an action that used to mean I want you in your own secret language. And fuck if you don’t want him too.

(chapter five)

a/n: y'all. not me making myself cry with this one. your support has absolutely blown me away and made me so happy to be posting my writing again!!! Doing my best with this taglist but if you asked and I left you off please let me know!! ch 5 on it's way!

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @aerie717 @kickenkricken @st0rmyt @sage-burrow @adoreleeknw @mudisgranapat @sugarmelonwater @blue-greener-weiner @vilentia @sunny1616 @namelesslosers @groovycass @zizuras @lifeonawhim

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

chapter tags: military, mission gone wrong, implied death of multiple civilians, author certainly gets everything about the military wrong

read below or on ao3

Day 4: 2004

“What the hell is this for?” Tommy asked angrily as he stared down at the medal on the desk.

“That's a Silver Star,” Captain Jones explained.

“I know what it is, I'm asking what the hell I'm getting it for.”

“Son-”

“Don't call me that. You just told me I'm being discharged, but for some reason I'm getting a medal?”

“You're being given the option of being honorably discharged, and you're receiving a silver star for your courageous-”

“Please, do not finish that sentence, Sir."

“Kinard, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be, but this is your only option right now.”

“Then it's not much of an option, is it?”

Jones sighed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand over his forehead. The room was warm, but a breeze flowed through the makeshift office. A glorified tent, really. “You haven't been eating,” he explained. “Haven't been sleeping. On the off chance you do sleep, you're waking everyone up with nightmares. There's a noticeable change in behavior. There are a lot of people worried about you.”

“You mean people who don't wanna fly with me.”

“Can you blame them?” he asked. “You're not yourself ever since-” he cut himself off quickly.

“Ever since?” Tommy beckoned. “Ever since I was ordered to kill ten innocent civilians?”

“It was an order to target a terrorist cell! We didn't know the intel was bad until it was too late.”

“Well, that makes it all okay, then," he replied sarcastically with a scoff. "I'm just supposed to move right along and forget it ever happened?”

“Yes, that's exactly what you're supposed to do,” Jones answered frankly. “And it's also clear that's not going to happen with you. That's why accepting the star and the honorable discharge is your best option.”

“I thought it was my only option.”

Jones took a deep breath. “I'm a messenger here, Tommy, that's it. You don't accept what I'm offering, you talk about what happened, you're gonna get discharged anyway but it won't be honorable anymore. They'll make your psych eval results public, and you'll have an other-than-honorable, or a dishonorable discharge, that will follow you around forever. It will make it more difficult for you to get a job and you'll lose your benefits as a veteran. Is that really what you want?”

Tommy stared down at the medal, but he didn't respond.

“You need to go home, Tommy. You need to see a therapist, get in a veteran's program. I know you're young, you're only twenty, and this seems like the end of road for you, but it's not. It can be the start of something better.”

Tommy continued to stare. He took three breaths before responding. “When do I leave?”

“Next flight out is December 26th. Tomorrow morning.”

Tommy nodded, then stood. He had no fight left in him. He turned to leave but didn't get too far before-

“Kinard!” Jones called, grabbing up the box the medal was in and walking around his desk. “There's usually a ceremony for these types of things, but I didn't think you'd want that.” He handed Tommy the medal. “You are officially relieved of duty. On behalf of the United States Armed Forces, we are grateful for your service. ”

Tommy glanced down at the medal one last time before snapping the box shut. As he walked out of the office, he tossed it into the trash can that was beside the door of the tent.

He left the next day without saying goodbye to anyone.

It would take years for him to get a good night's sleep again.

[cobra-creampuff]

anyway so seasons 1-early 3 mickey is a pessimist with a dash of nihilist (miserable), and because of that ian looks like an optimist verging on idealist to him.

the fact of the matter is that ian is not an optimist and he certainly is not an idealist. he's a little naive, sure, but less than what would be appropriate for his age. he's also not a pessimist or a nihilist (either kind). or a realist or a pragmatist or any of those.

no, ian is quite simply. unfathomably stubborn. and that is all.

he'll get into west point. he's absolutely certain of this. why? because he fucking said so.

he'll have a real relationship with mickey. they are in love and they are going to be together. this is true. how does he know? because. he. fucking. said so.

he doesn't have hope. he doesn't want things. that's pussy shit. there are precisely three types of things in this world: things ian isn't interested in, things ian already has, and things ian will have. that is simply that!

(which is obviously its own very specific mindset and is at least as extreme as pure optimism and pure pessimism, and is almost certainly just another fun little factor when the force of his will alone is not enough to change the reality of an ongoing traumatic event that contributes to the somewhat early onset of his bipolar disorder. but that's tangential.)

now. once again, disclaimer, these characters cease to exist past early season 5 for me, so there's every chance this next bit is exclusive to MY mickey and ian. there's just no way to know ❤️

that said. ian matures into a nihilist (carefree) - and i would say he's here-ish already in season 4, but in a maladaptive way at that stage - and then eventually matures further into a nihilistic (carefree)-leaning pragmatist.

mickey on the other hand - after a period of having no particular mindset of this type of thing at all which in effect amounts to a months-to-a-year long panic attack where his every action is fueled by emotional desperation and he has no solid concept of his own wants, needs, values, or future beyond the ever-present but totally incoherent certainty that he can't live without ian but ian can and will leave him with ease for even the slightest infraction or failure that terrorizes him like a weasel terrorizes a hen in his every waking moment - um. what was i saying.

oh right. mickey on the other hand, after All That, matures first into a sort of quiet idealism (kind of a pendulum swing maybe, but not quite not also progress, iygiygi), and then. into a less naive version of the old ian's way lmao.

there is no "that's how things are/go" or "that's how the world works" or "life is/isn't fair" or any fundamental human nature or any purpose or lack thereof to life or possible and impossible or likely and unlikely or anything else along any of those lines. there are only two types of things in the world: things that don't matter and mickey's next achievement. and that's that, baby!

and then eventually, mick finishes out at a relatively stable and sustainable realist-leaning optimism, heavily informed by romanticism of the Certain Things Are Meant To Be kind. like, he wouldn't necessarily express that or think of it in those terms. and he doesn't think it's a common thing, in fact it's rare and special and he's very lucky, and even if something is like that it still doesn't mean you don't have to put the work in for it to go well and end up Right. and he doesn't believe in a higher power or in Fate quite as such or in the will of the universe or a cosmic balance or anything like that really.

it's just, you know. sometimes. every now and then. there's just this one little thing that will continuously keep trying to happen without any heed to sense or logic or the incredible odds against it. just something in particular that will forever and always find a way to happen.

like say. for example. there's this gay kid, right? and he gets in this fight and he wins and he's about to bring down a tire iron and ruin this other idiot's pretty face and - for no discernible reason whatsoever - he just... doesn't. and maybe he'll think about it half a dozen years later and wonder why. that one tiny little thing that changed his whole fucking life, why did he do that? what was the reason? and there just. isn't one.

and that's not even all. see, these two dumbasses have no idea the other one is gay too, but some-fucking-how they don't have to say a word or even make any opening moves to just Know they want each other. it's like they read each other's fucking minds, even though he knows, he remembers, he didn't sense anything from ian. but for Some Fucking Reason he just never for a second considered ian wouldn't want him, and ian was in perfect time with him. and maybe he'll think back and try to find an explanation for this part too. was there some body language he read? was there some look in ian's eyes? but the answer is no every time.

and then after that, these two gay kids just can't be kept apart. they just can't. and it's not just that they inexplicably can't resist each other either. every time they're separated they find each other again, no matter what. even when they're the ones to separate themselves, situation after coincidence after happenstance after necessity keeps putting them in each other's orbits. secrecy and jealous exes and gun violence and imprisonment and infidelity and a fucking pathological fear of intimacy and conversion therapy and genuine threat to their lives and marriage to someone else and permanent life-altering illness can't break them up. at least not for long.

and then. somehow. SOME fucking how! after all that, and with the absolutely shit chances that they ever even hooked up in the first place, they actually fucking make it? they don't just get to be together, they get to be happy??

so no, he doesn't believe in god or destiny or soulmates or whatever the fuck. but at the same time, i mean. what other explanation is there?

[the-marvelclub]

While you were sleeping | Bucky Barnes

Part 3.

read part 2 here series masterlist

Summary: Reader is in love with the mysterious man who goes every week to the bar where she works. When one night she witnesses a fight that leaves the man in a coma and he´s taken to the hospital, she is mistaken for his fiancée, unaware that the mysterious man is Steve Rogers himself. With no family and after losing everything in The Blip, reader becomes captivated with Steve's friends and their unconditional love for her that she can't bring herself to tell the truth. Things get complicated when she finds herself falling for Steve's best friend, Bucky.

Taglist: @rosecentury @ozwriterchick

"So do you have a date for the wedding yet?" you choked on the wine you were drinking, Wanda's question taking you by surprise. You were now sitting, eating the food in front of you. You had been chatting happily for the last 30 minutes, surprised by how easy it was to talk to them and not bring up your relationship (or lack there of) with Steve, well, until now.

"Actually, we haven't talked about it" you replied leaving the wine glass on the table, your voice finally coming back to you. Wanda nodded seemingly satisfied with your vague answer and continued eating next to you.

You focused your eyes on the food looking for the right way to continue the conversation. The determination to tell them the truth that you had hours before seemed to disappear. It had been years since you had felt part of something. Sure, you had your apartment and your job, Joe was the closest thing you had to a friend, if you could call him that. But that was it. The events after the blip changed everyone including you, people close themselves off, and although many had returned the world was different, everyone could tell. But for this moment, being there felt right.

"I always thought he'd end up with Sharon" Sam commented, talking more to himself than anything else.

Who is Sharon?

Natasha threw him a pea which caused Sam to let out a squeal of protest. "Well, he obviously didn’t” she replied giving him a murderous look before returning to you “I'm glad it was you."

"What I MEANT is that I'm surprised there still women out there who are romantically interested in the elderly." He defended himself giving you wink.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

"Who knows, maybe there's still hope for you after all, Buck." Tony said, standing on the bar next to the table pouring himself some whiskey. The comment causing Bucky to roll his eyes but he didn't look angry.

"I've never had a problem in that department." he stated, not seeming to be bothered by this conversation at all.

The previous car ride with Bucky from Steve’s apartment seemed to last an eternity. You wouldn't be surprised if he told you he took the long way home, something about him screamed ‘disbelief’. Of course he used the moment to asked you a lot of questions about your supposed relationship with his best friend, you knew he was probably taking mental notes of every lie that came out of your mouth, you tried your best to do the same hoping it wouldn't all come back to bite you in the ass. You knew what he was good at, you had never been one of those people who idolized the avengers, not before, not during or even after the blip, you knew who they were from the news or from what your co-workers talked about. But you certainly knew what Bucky Barnes was good at, you had read about the winter soldier in a history book you had been flipping through while waiting for your favorite coffee order.

Steve Rogers' best friend, womanizer, his supposed death, what he been through and his relationship with the others avengers. You'd be lying if you said you didn’t find him somewhat intriguing.

“Well, we can all agree that 4 months is pretty fast for an engagement" Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He pushed his now empty plate aside and leaned back against the chair, his chest seemed to rise as he crossed his arms over it and a small, almost unnoticeable, smile crossed his face. "I bet you know a lot about him" He cocked his head to the side slightly and looked at you "like for example, his favorite movie”.

You knew it wasn't just a statement, he was asking you. Of course he was his best friend but apparently he hadn't seen Steve either for the last two years. People change. Well if that's the way he wanted to play it, you were going to use your cards right.

"He doesn't like watching TV" you said with confidence mimicking his posture and crossing your arms over your chest. For the first time since you ran into him, you held his gaze for more than just a couple of seconds. If you wanted him to believe you, you had to play the part.

"Favorite musician?" He asked quickly ignoring your previous reply. If Bucky was being honest with himself, he liked the nervous look you’d have on your face every time he looked at you, but this time he couldn't see anything but your defiant stare.

"Marvin Gaye" You mentally went over everything that was on Steve's nightstand when you went to pick up his clothes, remembering the old cds he had "and the Ramones."

"Book?"

"1776"

"What are you doing, James?" Nat’s stern voice next to you made you look away from him, for a moment you had forgotten they were there, "what is this about?"

"Nothing, nothing, just curious" He simply replied before getting up and heading to the bar for another drink. You let out a sigh of relief as the others continued their chatting. You were about to take your last sip of wine when you noticed Wanda's gaze fixed on you, you smiled softly at her and returned your attention to the food in front of you.

"And what do your parents think about him?" Tony said after a while, the food was long gone and now everyone was getting more drinks "I bet they're very happy for you."

You gulped grabbing your dirty plates taking them to the dishwasher distracting yourself from the question.

“They passed away” you replied quietly "I never knew my mother and my father died of cancer one year after I disappeared on the blip, so I never saw him again. It’s just me”.

“Oh” Tony looked at you apologetically “I’m sorry”.

“It was a long time ago” you brushed it off, not trying to make the evening uncomfortable. You close the dishwasher and turn to Nat who was going to take you to see Steve. Before you left the room you caught Bucky’s stare, only this time this one was soft, almost kind.

——

Natasha had taken you to see Steve, who remained in the same state, if you didn't know what was really happening to him, you would think he was just sleeping. His cheeks were still full of color. You'd been able to notice the little details that adorned his face, and yet Joe's voice wouldn't leave your head, he really look a lot like Ryan. According to what you had been told, it was all a matter of waiting, he was a super human after all.

An hour later, Bucky had offered to drive you back to your apartment. This time the ride was shorter, if he wanted to investigate further about his suspicions about you, he didn't. He kept quiet for the entire ride. Maybe he was just tired or maybe finding out about your loss had made him identify with you, if only for a moment.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" he finally spoke, ending the comfortable silence that had formed between you two since you left the compound. You were walking down the small hallway in your building.

His kind tone had taken you by surprise "Yes, everyone was very friendly, thank you". You replied pulling your keys out of your bag, the door to your apartment in front of you.

He let out a big sigh as he leaned against the wall next to it, hands in his pockets, while he waited for you to enter. He almost seemed shy, nothing like the Bucky you had met hours earlier.

"Look, I'm sorry if I gave you a hard time" he finally said closing his eyes for a moment before turning to look at you.

You stopped.

"Oh, don’t worr-"

"The truth is that it’s been a long time since Steve told me anything really, it's not your fault" he interrupted you and by the way his voice failed you noticed he was having a hard time talking about it. You could feel the horrible sense of guilt flooding through your body. You didn't want him to feel bad. "I'm glad you two had each other and you were taking care of him." Well, now you really felt guilty. The imposter syndrome was really kicking this time. You gave him a half smile entering your apartment.

"I didn't tell you before but… thank you for saving his life, not everyone would have been brave enough to do what you did." You turned to him, he was leaning against the door frame looking at you only this time you didn’t feel strained with his blue eyes. "I can see why he’s attracted to you” he simply said giving you one final look before turning and walking away. If he only knew.

"Goodnight, Bucky" you whispered watching him go, but this time he didn’t hear you.

A small continuous rustling sound made you wake up from your sleep. Opening your eyes to a completely dark room, you were about to reach out to turn on the lamp at the side of your bed when a cold material covered your mouth and the smell of leather filled your senses.

What seemed like a figure of a man was on top of you, his gloved hand was over your mouth trying to restrain you.

Terror began to invade your body. Oh god, he’s going to hurt me. You twisted and pulled your arms trying to free yourself but he was much stronger than you. He didn’t budge an inch. Feeling the adrenaline rush through your body, you didn't even realize that you had managed to let go of your arm, without thinking you dug your fingers into his eyeballs, and your knee hit his groin, knocking his breath out of him and making his grip weaken for a moment. You jumped out of bed, turning on the lamp and bringing it to the floor along with you as the man pounced on you again.

The room filled with the dim yellow light and that's when you saw him; an unknown man with black hair and tan skin loomed over you, he was dressed just like the men of the alley. You let out a high pitched scream before the man slammed your head hard against the floor.

Your vision blurred and a high pitched noise rang in your ears leaving you dazed. Before you knew it, the man was no longer on top of you but lying on your side, his face was in pain and a metal arm was around his neck.

Bucky.

That’s all you remember before you pass out.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Sexual Content Masterlist

again and again, even though we know love’s landscape (ao3) - JudeAraya

Summary: After a small fight, Dan finds Phil in bed with a migraine and spends the day taking care of him in many, many ways.

Always Having Your Hand To Hold (ao3) - t_hens

Summary: Dan and Phil’s 2010 trip to Blackpool.

a match and a fuse (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: Phil is twenty six years old and stuck in a dead end life. He works at Starbucks and may or may not be carrying a torch for his best friend of eight years. He doesn’t know who he is or what he wants–or how to go about figuring it out.

That all starts to change when he happens upon the resume of a certain law school grad named Daniel.

Birthday Sex (ao3) - danfanciesphil (thejigsawtimess)

Summary: The rules are pretty simple.

Whoever’s birthday it is gets whatever they want, no questions asked.

A bi-annual sex treaty.

It’s the perfect answer to getting rid of all of that pent up angst, leftover desire and sexual frustration they feel for each other. And seriously, it’ll be fine. There’s no way anyone can be manipulated or end up with their feelings hurt or anything like that. Granted, friends-with-benefits has a bad rep, but how could this possibly go wrong?

They’ve got it all planned out.

bruising the sun (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: the bedsharing friends to lovers roommates au i was always destined to write

cat bells (ao3) - N_Chu4Ever

Summary: The catboy photoshoot, except it all goes weirdly wrong because Phil accidentally bought Dan a magic cat costume off the internet. Oops.

Caught In Between (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: Dan wants to top, but Phil doesn’t want to bottom. They find a compromise.

Come What May (ao3) - PhantasticFiction

Summary: Phil Lester usually wasn’t one to go to strip clubs. But after being coaxed into it by a couple of his friends he meets the ever hypnotizing Greyson Bear(Dan Howell). Easily falling in love with him Phil works to save Dan from the underworld of prostitution.

Coming Undone (ao3) - hygge

Summary: Phil notices that Dan hasn’t been himself recently, so he helps him get out of his head.

Daddy Kink (ao3) - danfanciesphil (thejigsawtimess)

Summary: Dan thinks it's hilarious that the phandom thinks he has a Daddy kink. Until he doesn't.

Danisnotadom (ao3) - Sinninghowlter

Summary: Dan's not a dom. Everyone swears up and down that he is, insists he is domming his boyfriend and is too good to take it in the ass.

Phil's not a sub. Everyone thinks he is, everyone thinks his baby is in charge. What they don't know is his hardcore boyfriend is actually a princess.

disco stick (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: “Let’s have some fun, this beat is sick,” Phil sings into the microphone connected to the Xbox. It’s slightly off-rhythm, and he grins and stares right at Dan as he continues onto the next lyric. “I want to take a ride on your disco stick.”

(A fic based on the moment from “What Dan and Phil Text Each Other 4” where DnP mention they’ve sung LoveGame countless times on an old karaoke video game.)

Drunk in Love (ao3) - ahappyphil

Summary: 5 times Dan and Phil were horny sappy drunks

Help Taking it Off (ao3) - cats_with_no_tails

Summary: I don’t know if Dan helped Phil pick out the phlonde-launch outfit, but I certainly imagine he helped take it off.

—

Set the day of Phil’s blonde hair announcement - Dan comes home to him in that cunty little midriff and wants to devour him.

home is where the heart is. (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: 16 year old Daniel Howell had always felt out of place in his dad’s fancy apartment or under the Singaporean sun. Life was not bad, but being the son of a British expatriate banker divorcee with commitment issues meant that there was never a home.

Inspired by the only constant in his life, a similar aged British youtuber by the name of Phil Lester, Dan decides to move to his supposed homeland Britain on a whim, in the hopes of escaping his bubble of isolation, and maybe find the place where he truly belonged.

Somehow Dan lands himself in one of the few notorious all boys boarding schools in Britain, one that has bizarre traditions, vicious inter-house competition and way too many attractive boys; and a roommate who had been Dan’s best friend all along, even if Phil Lester hadn’t known it.

Dan finally found home.

I guess it’s fine (it blows my mind) (ao3) - t_hens

Summary: things get interrupted when Phil’s neighbor knocks on the door, but maybe the interruption can be used as a chance to discover something new.

in this smoking chaos (ao3) - writingcollective

Summary: Dan bottoms for the first time, not being able to shut down his inner demons that whisper internalised homophobic thoughts into his ear. But Phil guides him through it, somehow

Indulgence (ao3) - CapriciousCrab

Summary: Daniel Howell was a man used to getting whatever he asked for. Whether it was the intricately embroidered waistcoats he so loved or the finest horseflesh available; if he wanted it, he generally would get it. Even if what he wanted was a good, anonymous fuck.And tonight was no exception.

Just A Toy (ao3) - blissedoutphil

Summary: He takes whatever Phil gives him, because he loves being treated like nothing more than a toy to be used. And above all, he loves Phil. He’d do anything for Phil.

learning the ropes (ao3) - watergator

Summary: dan and phil try something new together

Like Fine Print (ao3) - totalincandescense

Summary: Every few weeks, Dan was given an unfriendly reminder of at least one of the many reasons why he never went outside.

The most frequently recurring thing on the list being the general existence of people.

But more specifically, the existence of people who flirted with Phil.

linger on (ao3) - dizzy, waveydnp

Summary: A recent loss has ground Phil’s life to a halt. At 33, he’s static in his grief and living in the house he grew up in - until his mother kicks him out.

In a fit of indignation and with nothing to lose, he answers the first listing he finds for a room to rent in London… a listing posted by a guy named Dan.

Now We’re Getting Serious (ao3) - Raven052

Summary: A sweet night in, innocent enough, soon turns into more.

New experiences.

Unexpected confessions.

Things are definitely getting serious for Dan and Phil

not a chew toy? (ao3) - phantasticworks (steddieworks)

Summary: Apparently some things aren’t meant to be chewed on. Who knew?

Not Since I Posted The Cat Photo (ao3) - Absolutefilthimsosorry

Summary: Dan hasn’t been a ‘top bunk kinda guy’ since he posted the catboy photos.

Set after the catboy photoshoot

"oh great, now im a furry" (ao3) - cloej88

Summary: This is a fic about Dan getting off on his giant teddy bear… Yeah. But it’s also a fic about trust and connection and vulnerability

Precious (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: dnp have intimate lazy sex or whatever the fuck made people so mad on twitter.

Precious Baby Angel (ao3) - toadsappho

Summary: Phil shows Dan his new t-shirt, but that's not the only surprise he has for him.

sweet as cherry wine (ao3) - sxndazed

Summary: Dan gets horny when he drinks.

Talking to the Moon (ao3) - uptownsteve

Summary: After a risque photoshoot, Phil wants to show Dan just how beautiful he is

Those Who Trust - theshyauthor

Summary: Dan used to be a submissive and now he’s just a broken shell of a man.

You and Me (ao3) - Scuddleduck

Summary: Birthday sex after Dan's birthday livestream

You are Not Sleeping on The Goddamn Floor (ao3) - pepelovesme

Summary: Dan and Phil's 2009 meeting reimagined. Dan is curious, they talk sexuality. Smut ensues.

[flowerandblood]

I've been feeling a little overwhelmed and frustrated lately with what's going on because I feel like what people expect from my fanfic (The Impossible Choice) and what I want it to be are two different things.

People would like it to either be a sugared-up story where the use of words, descriptions of places, behaviors and characters is as medieval as possible, BUT everyone who fucks is of legal age in the United States. After all, a 16-year-old in the Middle Ages was a child just like today, right??? RIGHT??? (do I have to remind you that people who were then 40 years old were already looking and feeling super old, and 60-year-olds were considered old men over the grave???), apart from that, Aemond would be best cool angry and making you wet, but also to tell his wife that he loves her, not to make mistakes, so that she doesn't make mistakes, but if she has any suspicions about him, she can cheat on him. Let there be drama, but if a bit of her body burnt, she is no longer beautiful, so why do that??????

It wasn't supposed to be a nice story to read in bed. Maybe I will destroy someone's imagination, but the close-ups from chapters 4 and 5 today would be considered rape no matter what age the heroine was. But they are not for her or for him because of the historical context!!!

If you don't want to feel uncomfortable then why are you reading fanfic set in the Middle Ages where marital rape was commonplace, where the wife is the husband's property and has to fight for his favor and gentleness????

Aemond literally stole her from her house and took advantage of the fact that she knew nothing about these things. Of course, he didn't mean to hurt her, and he was hurt in that aspect when he was 13, but this story isn't meant to be comfortable. Aemond is fascinated by her at first, but on the eve of everything, he wants to break her and make her ease up because Aemond is NOT A GOOD PERSON. He's not in the books, he's not in the show, and he's certainly not in this fanfic.

The only thing that usually makes him make the right decisions is his feeling for her, his affection, the feeling that they belong together. His mother gave him the love he needed and he respects and reveres her so how must he feel about a woman who shows so much respect, love and understanding? I want this story to be logical, full of their feelings and the brutality of the world around them, because the medieval world is a cruel world.

I would like to remind you that undermining the logical decisions of the characters or the logical ideas of the author resulting from good research and knowledge of the era are not constructive criticism, but a dream that this fanfic would be something that it is not.

A sweet story about fucking two adults that you can stick yourself in.

It's not that kind of story. And it's not supposed to be comfortable.

I don't have the strength to post the next chapters yet, although before the next one I was very excited and wanted to show it to you very much. I just lost the sense of continuing this story since people don't understand the main assumptions of the world they read about.

[angelsandemons]

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄!

whether it be melodies that give you inspiration for your muse or songs that get you into the writing mood — pick 10 songs you find to give you the urge, the drive, or the creativity to write for your muse!

tagged by: @hells-greatestdad

I probably did this before but I just saw you do it with explanations for each song and I love that so...of course I'm doing this for Bill. He's probably the only one I have 10+ songs for atm, and I have at least one new one since I last did this sort of thing for him.

Am I Wrong? by Nico & Vinz

This song has made me think of Bill's younger years for a while. However, my feelings and thoughts about it have changed a bit since The Book of Bill came out and gave us some more information about his early life in Eucylida. For one thing, it would be more appropriate if the song said "trying to reach the things that I can see" instead of "can't see." But since Bill was the only one who could see them, the same sentiment kind of still applies. Another cool change is around the lines "Am I trippin' for having a vision? My prediction, I'ma be on top of the world." With what we know now, combined with my headcaons around this new canon, we have a whole new new literal layer of meaning on top of the earlier figurative one. Because he truly did want to find a way to be "on top" of his world in a way that defied all logic and reason.

2. ECHO by Crusher P and Gumi English

This song has been near and dear to me in relation to Bill for years too, but like the previous one, it's changed meaning since the revelations The Book of Bill gave us. It's role in Bill's narrative still stays largely the same in that it speaks to the fall of Euclydia. The song starts out with saying "The clock's stopped ticking forever ago, how long have I been up? I don't know." Time and space completely unraveled in the aftermath of the incident in his home dimension, and being the sole survivor, Bill was left in a very strange place psychologically. This leads directly into "I can't get a grip but I can't let go" and "there wasn't anything to hold onto, though." Bill was in a space that was no longer quite space, a time that was no longer quite time, and no means to process any of it. The next few lines about not being able to see colors and wanting to be "colorful and free," still hold true to me, since I refuse to believe that Euclydia had color the same way we do. The main difference is that Bill could see more colors than others from the very start (though certainly not as many as he saw later on in life). So he didn't want to see it so much as be it, become a star in the sky that he spent so much time looking at. This comes into play later with "No I just can't let go, born to be colorful." Anyway, as the lyrics continue, they go right back into Bill's experience with the incident, from "What the hell's going on? Can someone tell me please!" to "I'm gonna burn my house down into an ugly black" and "I'm gonna run away now and never look back." Here again, the main difference from before is that Bill did not intentionally destroy his dimension, so it all...feels a bit different. No less relevant to me, just different. Finally, "my enemy's invisible, I don't know how to fight" is more about the psychological damage he took from this event and how ill-equipped he was to "fight" it or process it. Especially when he's up against his own self, his own past, the "echo in the mirror."

3. Raise Your Glass by P!nk

Once Bill left the remains of his home dimension behind, he began collecting misfits from across interdimensional space to be part of his crew. Life became one big party, all day every day. It was as much a celebration of freedom as it was a way for Bill to reframe his outlook and start to see himself as a liberator of fellow "freaks."

4. Blow by Kesha

This song is covers the other main aspect of this stage in Bill's life, and that's the inherent destructiveness of the parties and the darker side of Bill's specific brand of "liberation." The start of the song, "back door's cracked, we don't need a key" is also very reminiscent of how Weirdmageddon started in the show too, which is fitting since I think Weirdmageddon was very much the final party of his liberator era.

5. Comfort Zone by Jorge Rivera-Herrans

Pretty much the entire second half of this song is relevant to Bill (though I'm sure he too would yeet a baby off a tower if given the chance). I believe that pretty much every sentiment Perimedes' expresses here largely his way of coping with the horrors of war. Bill has a similar way of coping that originates from his role in the fall of Euclydia. It's also why the break up with Ford was so devastating to him; he did let himself care, he let himself get attached. And he had no defenses for rejection on that level. The silly little filters Jay put over this reel actually made it more Billcore than it was already.

6. Dark Horse by Katy Perry

This has always been a very Bill song, not just in relation to BillFord (though it's most relevant to that), but any of his partners across the ages, romantic or not (more often NOT romantic). Because Bill very much as an MO when it comes to his "trying to get someone on Earth to build him a portal." He finds someone who is in a vulnerable place, tries to "woo" them, so to speak, get them to agree to help him. Of course, Bill himself doesn't give his would-be partners anywhere close to the warning Katy Perry gives in this song. In fact, part of his whole game is that they don't know what they're falling for.

7. Blank Space by Taylor Swift

While this one is more overtly a "Crazy ex seeks new relationship" song, I once again thing this applies just as much to Bill's platonic relationships with humans throughout the ages. Bill has an ever growing track record of people recording warnings about him, from the prophecy in the early times to the entire society built around preventing amassing more victims.

8. Immortals by Fall Out Boy

This one is like, crazy appropriate for Gravity Falls as a whole, to the point that someone made an AMV for it years ago. But I think most of the song could actually be applied to Bill specifically. The biggest Bill line is probably the very first though, "They say we are what we are, but we don't have to be."

9. Primadonna Girl by Marina

This whole song, both in lyrics and vibe, is wildly applicable to Bill. It's so applicable, in fact, that Primadonna Bill was made as a parody of it. And some of the lyrics just flat out remain unchanged even in that version. Interestingly, one of the lyrics the parody did change is what I believe to be the most relevant to Bill in the original: "you say that I'm kinda difficult, but it's always someone else's fault." Because that really does sum up a lot of his more maladaptive coping.

10. Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift

This song has been associated with Bill and Ford for years now, but it usually paints it as coming from the perspective of Ford. This is fine, but I actually think the song is equally as applicable when flipped, because from Bill's perspective, he was betrayed just as much. Heck, it might even be MORE applicable if we focus on the second verse of the song, particularly the part about being "locked out." The refrain too, comes back to the "it's someone else's fault" mindset that is so prevalent with Bill. And of course, there is the "I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me" line that just sums up Bill so nicely.

Tagging: @pine-dexter, @wintersovereign, @doublejango, @nebula-gaster, @lettherebemonsters, @crimsonsharked, @botanikos, @heavensxgates, @yellingmetatron, @widdlestwucifer, and literally ANYONE else who wants to, please tag me I want to see it.

[shytastemakerthing]

I made an oc for Zohakuten to partner as an adult but are friends as kids. May I request demon reader x Zohakuten platonic and they been friends for a long time please?

Of course you certainly can! I hope that you like this!

Cw: None really, just some usual people eating as always

Pairing: Platonic!best friend Zohakuten x reader

Friends for a long time? There is a possibility that you encountered the Hatred clone not too long after Hantengu himself became a demon and then became Upper Moon 4 (not sure if they initially start as upper moons or gain that ranking after a period of time in regards to strength and power). Because of this, you were most likely a demon as well.

Now, Zohakuten was not out that much, given the lack of powerful enough enemies, but for the sake of this, we shall say he is his own individual as opposed to being the fusion of the four main clones.

You had only been around for about half a century more than him.

The both of you encountered during one fateful night the both of you seemed to be hunting for food.

You had your meal already, he did not.

And that is when you did it.

You offered some of the human remnants that you were eating to him, a rather hopeful and expectant look in your eyes.

Needless to say, it had his attention.

No demon shared their kill, their food. It was just something that wasn't done.

Yet here you were

Rather than look a gift horse in the mouth, Zohakuten would say nothing, opting to sit across from you, and begin tearing into the flesh, just as you had.

That was when you merely stated your name. As if this was just something casual. At this point, he was already Upper 4. No doubt you saw the kanji in his eyes symbolizing so.

And you weren't even ranked, you didn't seem to be rather strong, yet here the two of you are, beginning to make such an idle conversation.

He is hatred incarnate, yet that emotion feels more quelled when he is with you.

You are the first person he could ever consider a friend

After that night, it would be a couple of years before you would encounter each other once again

This time, you were trying to fight off a small group of slayers. Despite being un-ranked and outnumbered, you seemed to be holding off rather well.

Until a cheap shot was landed at the back of your neck, but not with enough strength to decapitate you. No, Zohakuten interfered before the blow landed.

These slayers didn't last long when he came down in front of you

The other clones had seen this, clearly rather confused as to why the clone of Hatred would step in, granted it got slayers out of the way. But why not let them finish the job on you before going for the slayers?

But those questions would be for later. Clearly you were skilled enough to last against four slayers for who knows how long, given the sun was beginning to rise

That was when you invited Zohakuten and the remaining clones within the home that you had settled deep within the cave system that was a rather short distance away.

Again, you are being friendly, which was confusing to the others

This would continue for decades, centuries even

In that time, Zohakuten would certainly call you a friend, an honor only reserved for you

The next encounter, in the Taisho era, was the last time you wished him luck with his next mission, as the swordsmith village had been located. Surely you would see him afterwards, with fresh human meat to feast on in victory.

You never saw him again...........

[steddieficrec]

Some teen fics I've read (and reread) recently that I loved.

sounds like sweet talk to my ears by judasofsuburbia

(1/1 I 1,633)

"You just gotta practice on someone with zero stakes,” Eddie exclaims.

“Like who?”

Eddie gestures to Robin who cackles loudly.

“Not a chance,” Robin says.

“I’m not fake flirting with Robin. Gag.”

Eddie’s mouth twists. His next sentence is on the tip of his tongue, fighting to come out of his mouth, but his brain is screaming don’t, don’t don’t‒

“Practice on me,” Eddie blurts. His voice is meek so he clears his throat and puts on his most encouraging smile.

or: after watching steve strike out again at the scoops ahoy counter, eddie suggests that steve try flirting with him as practice. no harm, no foul, it's just pretend, right?

another version of me (i was in it) by badfanfictionaire

(1/1 I 2,651)

Eddie can’t not see it. Beneath the crappy hairpiece and comical purple lenses, there’s only one person this Djo guy could be: Steve Harrington. He’d recognize the happy trail peeking out from his striped crop-top anywhere. It’s the same one that’s haunted his dreams since he last saw the guy at a pool party in ‘86.

just watch me now by ilip13

(1/1 I 6,000)

"Dude, you’re not a sellout." Steve leans in his direction, arms crossed over his knees, gaze intent. Eddie looks away. "You’re amazing."

Eddie groans.

"Seriously," Steve continues relentlessly, driving the point home. "Those lyrics — no one writes like that, man. It was easier to save the world than to ask you for your number? I thought it was brilliant."

Oh, if only he knew.

*

Eddie's unrequited love song accidentally becomes a hit.

too good to deny it by unkreativstermensch

(1/1 I 11,793)

“Well, apparently…you uh had some fun too, huh, Steve?” Eddie’s voice sounded weird, almost like there was an accusatory undertone. Steve’s frown deepened. This was about him finding someone to make out with?

“Yeah? What about it? I know I said I’d make sure you were safe and everything, but does that mean I can’t enjoy myself? You were both pretty preoccupied, weren’t you?”

“I-” Robin actually looked speechless. “Of course you can, just…it was…” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, frustrated. “That was a guy, Steve!”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

Robin blinked. “A guy,” she repeated, an exasperated expression on her face, her hands making some sort of gesture, underlining the word.

“I know,” Steve said, in the same manner, starting to get frustrated now, too. “Was pretty hard to miss with his dick against my thigh.” He narrowed his eyes. “No pun intended.”

  or: 5 times Steve enjoys kissing boys and 1 time he realizes what that means

Turn Your Back on Mother Nature by gr0gu

(4/4 I 16,946)

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

Steve was supposed to work with Robin at the Family Video, flirt with the many many girls who came to browse the expansive selection of VHSes, go on some dates, and hopefully find The One.

It was supposed to be a notably upside-down free year.

And, hey, for what it's worth? He wasn't supposed to be pinned down on a mattress by Eddie Munson either.

And he certainly wasn't supposed to be enjoying it.

But that's getting a bit ahead of things…

if you fall, i will catch you by mseg_21

(3/3 I 29,930)

“So, about prom-” Buckley starts.

Eddie instantly cuts her off. “Still not going,” he says, fiddling with the candy display on the counter.

“I know, I know,” she says with a dismissive wave. “Steve told me to stop pestering you about it and to leave you alone.”

Eddie bites down on a smile. It’s easy to picture Steve with his hands on his hips and his best Stern Mom Look as he tells Robin to leave Eddie alone. He’s witnessed it multiple times. With the kids, and a few times with Eddie himself.

“You don’t have to come to prom with us,” Robin says. Eddie doesn’t even get the chance to do a celebratory dance before she continues. “But how do you feel about us having our very own prom?”

“Us?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrow at her.

or Eddie refuses to go to prom so Robin suggests a fake prom at Steve’s house. There’s dancing, misunderstandings, feelings realizations, a Prom King and Queen election, and Steve acting like Eddie’s prom date the entire night

down too long in the midnight sea by spacenarwhal

(2/2 I 42,121)

If Steve’s being completely honest with himself, it was probably only ever a matter of time before he lost his mind.

He’s certainly taken enough hits to the head to justify it happening.

Still, Steve didn’t imagine going crazy would go quite like this, standing on the heat-parched yellow grass outside Max’s trailer, looking at a ghost.

[Or: The, alleged, haunting of Steve Harrington.]

sub-culture by palmviolet

(13/13 I 60,702)

“Is he whining about Eddie being mean to him again?” Robin is leaning in the doorway, eating a leftover slice that’s probably cold by now. “You talk about him more than you talk about girls, Steve, it’s getting concerning. Anyone would think you had a crush.”

or, steve is pretty convinced eddie now hates him. turns out eddie has the opposite problem.

the other hand knocking by greatunironic

(10/10 I 102,211)

Since he was eighteen, Steven Harrington knew he would not marry: there were many factors, but chief among them were that he had, he knew, given up his chance for true happiness when he had allowed his mother to persuade him from accepting Edward Munson’s proposal.

Or: a Regency AU.

i can't tune you out by hairstevington

(28/28 I 113,115)

Eddie Munson is an up-and-coming rock and roll artist living in LA. Steve Harrington (under the stage name HARVEST) has been taking the radio by storm lately. When the fans start shipping them together as a couple, Steve and Eddie consider it an opportunity to boost their upcoming albums. There's just one problem - they can't stand each other.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Previous Husband AU, Pt 3

"Of course I loved him. Or at least I thought I did at the time," Lena explains the next morning at brunch. It's the weekend, which usually means a relaxed and soft Lena, which she is now, but this time is also accompanied by an indiscernable mix of emotions clouding her features as she picks at her omelette.

"I mean, I liked him, and my parents thought we were a good match, and at the time I guess that was enough to feel like love."

"Sounds like something changed," Kara observes. Her breakfast is similarly hardly touched, a first for her in years.

Lena looks at her, gaze deep. "I grew. And I learned that feelings could mature into something more than 'I guess' and 'might as well'." She shrugs. "For Tom, they just didn't."

"Your feelings for him didn't mature? Or he didn't mature?"

"Both? He certainly changed-- money and connections tend to do that. But things between us didn't grow to match. It eventually just became business, to the point that he'd be overseas for months at a time, and fidelity didn't seem to mean much anymore."

Kara gazes at her in concern. "You mean...?"

"Me?" Lena asks with a start. "Oh, no. Thought more from a lack of opportunity than anything else." She shrugs. "But he certainly did."

It's said with an air of resignation, as though it doesn't matter one way or another. But Kara knows better. "And that didn't bother you?"

Lena snorts derisively at herself. "Of course it did, at first. My pride was stung, and at the time it still felt real on my end, but... I got used to it, and that's when the feelings really died off."

"Then why not divorce him?"

Another shrug. "It was my intention, but the timing was never right. Especially after Lex... you know. And then Tom was out of the country and I didn't speak to him for nine months. It eventually slipped my mind."

Kara understands that. Without a direct impetus to change your circumstances, it can be easy to settle into the status quo. She observes Lena as she continues to shred her omelette with her fork.

"And now he's back," Kara says. Her stomach churns ominously. "Why?"

"I asked that very same thing," Lena returns. "Turns out he wants to rekindle things."

Kara fights the widening of her eyes, doing her best to remain neutral. "Do you believe him?"

"He seems genuine. And I can't fathom a reason he wouldn't be-- he's capable and wealthy enough to not need anything more from me."

"So.... what are you going to do?"

At that, Lena's cheeks turn pink. "I think--" She pauses, as though uncertain, then pushes on. "I think I'm going to give it try."

Despite her best efforts, Kara's eyebrows shoot towards her hairline. "Really?"

Lena nods, a small smile playing at her lips. "Talking to him last night... it felt like the early days. After being apart for so long, it feels like maybe we can start new, you know?"

Lena's shoulder lifts once more. "And we are married. I guess part of me still wants that to mean something, you know?"

Kara forces a smile, and reached across the table to clasp her hand over Lena's.

"Whatever you want to do, I will be here to support you," she promises. She means it with her entire body, intent thrumming through every one of her muscles.

"Promise you'll tell me if I'm being stupid?" Lena asks.

Kara grins. "Absolutely."

Sitting back in her chair as their conversation moves on, Kara silently prepares for DefCon 4.

[lemonluvgirl]

Make Me has been Updated

So recently I had a very nice reader point out in the comment section that in my Modern AU fic Make Me, Peeta seemed to get overpowered by Gale too quickly in their fight considering I wrote Peeta as a college wrestler who had won a wrestling scholarship. I actually thought that was a very good point and with the help of that kind reader, I did some research and added some more plot to the fight scene in chapter 1. Then writing for this universe got me inspired again and today I decided to write a continuation of Katniss and Peeta's romantic night at Peeta's apartment. So, more Gale getting his ass kicked has been added as well as more Everlark smut. I am feeling pretty happy with the way the revisions and added content turned out! So if you haven't read it before, or if you have and want to read more, You can check out the new and improved version of Make Me AO3.

Excerpt from Chapter 1:

It was supposed to be an ordinary Saturday night. The kind where I met my best friend for drinks at the local hole in the wall, and hustled some miners out of their pocket change. They were usually easy marks who paid more attention to the way my ass looked in my short denim shorts while I lined up a shot, than the actual game.

But a little into the first half hour, while patrons were still trickling in slowly, the mood in the bar changed from relaxed to filled with some kind of unnamable tension. It was still early, too early for any drunken disagreements to break out, but the tense mood lingered. I shrugged it off as Gale and I started to prepare for our first game.

The first time I noticed him was when he stood in front of the bar but didn’t sit down. He just held up a finger as he gave the bartender his order. His hair was pale blond, and he had a thicker build than most of the olive-skinned men from the Seam. I only caught a side glimpse of his face, and then the crowd flowed around him, obscuring him from view.

Well, an outsider coming into our bar certainly explained the weird feeling I’d gotten earlier. I chalked it up to obliviousness, maybe a traveler passing through who didn’t know the customs of the locals.

The second time I noticed him was when he slowly sauntered over to the pool table that all of the regulars at the bar knew as my and Gale’s spot. At first, he just seemed familiar, but the closer he got the more familiar he appeared. He walked up to us and placed a quarter on the rail, at the same time I placed him, and where I knew him from.

“I call next,” the blond guy said in a voice too cheery for the dreary establishment we all called The Hob. He was taller than I remembered but still stocky, and broad-shouldered. I wondered what he was doing here on a Saturday night.

The only identifying mark outside this place was a busted neon sign labeling it ‘Bar’. He couldn’t have chosen to come in here based on the aesthetics, or the welcoming atmosphere. This place was usually only frequented by exhausted miners and out-of-work Seam residents, and he stuck out like a sore thumb. He was wearing a plain dark blue button-up, some faded dark wash jeans that still looked serviceable and his brightly colored sneakers had seen better days but she was sure at one time they had been expensive, like the rest of his slightly out-of-date outfit.

Beside me, Gale laughed.

“I think you missed your exit Merchie. The townie bar is 4 streets over,” Gale told the guy, who I went to school with from elementary to high school. He had been the youngest son of the baker, valedictorian in my class, and captain of the wrestling team. I vaguely remembered the circumstances surrounding his reappearance in our podunk town.

His father passed away last year. People said their family bakery was in trouble, and the former golden boy had to move back home because his university scholarship had been cut when he blew out his knee. A string of unfortunate events seemed to plague the kind boy I once knew.

All that and his pale merchant good looks weren’t winning him any popularity contests tonight. At least not in this place.

“It's a free country,” Peeta Mellark said, voice firm instead of placating like I assumed he would be. He had a reputation for being a nice guy back in school, not a push over since he was strong and athletic, but more….gentle than anything.

But right now Peeta’s blue eyes didn’t look gentle. They looked immovable and hard as he met Gale’s gray gaze, stare for stare. It was a little shocking to see him so…unintimidated by my 6’3” best friend who could scare off guys who sniffed too closely around our pool table in a heartbeat.

I elbowed Gale in the ribs to cut the tension and the macho male bullshit going on. He turned to me with a scowl.

“Your turn to break,” was all I said.

Gale grunted and took up his pool stick, as Peeta leaned against the side wall watching.

I turned my back to him, hoping he’d get bored and leave eventually.

But he didn’t.

He stayed through the entire game, and I could feel his eyes on my back. Although he didn’t outright leer when I leaned forward to take my shots like some of the other guys were known to. Several times I caught his eye, but he always looked away or covered it by lifting the mug of beer to his lips, his stare getting lost in the dissipating foam.

Eventually, I kicked Gale’s ass, like I usually did on a Saturday night. When the last ball sunk into the pocket, my best friend handed over five bucks with a scowl but didn’t leave to go get us some drinks like he normally would. Instead, Gale stuck around and eyed Peeta watchfully like he was a wild animal lurking around one of his game trails, waiting for Gale’s back to turn so it could swoop in and steal a catch from one of his snares.

Peeta, seemingly unbothered by Gale’s lingering presence, took up a pool stick and a cue and ignored Gale’s glare. He instead looked over at me expectantly.

I looked back at him with a neutral expression. If he wanted to spend his Saturday night in a shitty bar, losing his money to a known pool shark like me, who was I to argue?

“It's your turn to break right?” Peeta asked me in a voice I almost mistook as shy. And when I looked closer at him, he smiled a little at me. It was…sort of adorable? I wasn’t used to guys giving me such blatant puppy dog eyes and sunny smiles with just the right hint of self-consciousness.

I nodded, fighting off a blush, and was about to ask him whether he wanted to be solids or stripes, but before I could, Gale cut in.

“She’s not gonna play with you,” he said in a menacing voice.

My head snapped quickly in Gale’s direction, and now I could see there wasn’t just dislike in his eyes, but something akin to fury.

“I didn’t know you were her keeper,” Peeta replied, as he shifted his gaze to Gale who crossed his arms over his chest. There was something icy in his tone that I had not ever heard before.

I was taken aback for a second by the bizarre turn of events. Sure, my long-time best friend had always been protective of me, but this was downright ridiculous. What did he think Peeta Mellark was gonna do? Shank me with a pool stick in the middle of the bar in front of a crowd of witnesses?

“He’s not,” I bit out the words to cut off Gale’s answer before he spoke. “Grab a drink, Gale. Or take a walk. I’ll be done here in a bit,” I ordered, fed up with his posturing and bad attitude.

“I’ll do that once this merchant asswipe gets the hell outta our bar,” Gale said, undeterred.

Before I could tell Gale what an absolute idiot he was making of himself, Peeta answered.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me?” in a challenging voice.

“Crap,” I muttered right before Gale took a step forward. The night was turning out decidedly differently from how I had envisioned my weekend going.

My heartbeat kicked into overdrive as I watched Gale square up against Peeta, but for his part, Peeta didn’t look even the least bit worried. He eyed Gale’s advance calmly, with almost lazy curiosity. He slowly set his empty beer glass down on the built-in shelf by the pool table and rolled his shoulders back with a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. 

“I’m gonna wipe the floor with you, pissant,” Gale said in a low, threatening tone, as he stepped into Peeta’s space, rearing up to his full height which was an intimidating 6’3. Gale probably had a good 4 or 5 inches on Peeta, (even though Peeta was broader and way more muscular) but Peeta didn’t look intimidated at all. It looked like he was welcoming this confrontation. 

Which was crazy. Just batshit insane. 

“Whatever you say, big guy.” Peeta mocked, in a cheery sarcastic tone. 

“Knock it off, you guys. Stop causing trouble.” I said, hoping to diffuse the situation, even though I knew it was a long shot. Gale was like a bull when he got mad. It took very little to wind him up and make him see red. Which was one of the main reasons we broke up. He had such a damn temper. 

Gale ignored me, which was no big surprise. But Peeta’s eyes flicked over to me and I saw indecision flicker in them for a brief second. I knew it couldn’t be because of fear, he wasn’t scared of Gale, I somehow knew that, but when he saw my disapproval he seemed reluctant for a second. 

Unfortunately, Gale used that momentary distraction to his advantage and he sent a punch flying directly for Peeta’s stomach. 

I cried out in dismay at Peeta’s impending pain, but before Gale’s punch could connect, Peeta dropped low and twisted away smoothly. 

He slipped out of Gale’s reach and Gale stumbled, losing his footing when his momentum kept going instead of being halted by Peeta’s body. 

Quick as a flash, Peeta turned Gale’s momentary coordination against him and through some kind of wrestling wizardry got his arm around one of Gale’s tree trunk legs and just-flipped him. Freaking, honest to God, just flipped my giant-ass best friend over like a sack of potatoes.

I hadn’t even gotten over my shock before Peeta was on Gale’s back, twisting his arm up and Gale was planted face-first into the floor, howling and cussin’ up a storm. 

“Give it up, buddy.” I heard Peeta saying, as if from far away, yet he was only a few feet in front of me. But my mind was still spinning. “You’re not getting out of this until you say the word,” Peeta said in a patient voice, talking to Gale like he was a small, misbehaving child. 

The entire bar was standing up, watching by now. When my eyes flicked up to the crowd that had gathered around, I was relieved to see as many astounded expressions on a good number of faces, glad I wasn’t the only one surprised by the turn of events. 

A few on-lookers dared to call out questions about who started the fight, and whatnot. Which I quickly answered in truth, pinning the blame rightly where it belonged on Gale. 

But as I looked back at Peeta, his strong arms flexing casually as Gale bucked and kicked out beneath him, his broad shoulders straining the fabric of his shirt, still wearing that same calm, slightly amused expression, I realized just what a smooth operator Peeta Mellark was. 

He looked up at the crowd who were speculating about how he’d subdued a bigger opponent so quickly, and someone volunteered the information that Peeta was a college wrestler. This caused a fresh wave of fresh chatter and more interest in Peeta. Some of the older guys, who followed town sports religiously, threw in little anecdotes about how the wrestling team had gone to State the year Peeta was captain. 

Peeta took it all in stride, keeping a good grip on Gale, waiting for him to tire out. When he was asked questions about the accident with his knee, he shrugged his shoulder’s in a kind of ‘what can you do?’ way, and said that he was lucky that he still had another one. That charmed onlookers in chuckling. 

This set off another round of expletives from Gale, who thought he was being laughed at. But I did not feel one bit sorry for him. As far as I was concerned, he had earned this humiliation fair and square. 

Peeta told him that he would not release him until he said he was sorry. 

Which Gale eventually did, through gritted teeth. 

Peeta got off him and moved to walk away, but Gale, sore-loser that he was, couldn’t resist kicking out at Peeta’s left leg. The one with the knee injury. 

This time Peeta did fall, and caught the edge of a chair on his way down. 

Gale moved swiftly to get on top of him, but I was officially done with the whole thing and just as Gale lifted his arm to punch Peeta in the face----

.

.

.

.

read the rest on AO3.

[news4usonline]

The Dodgers have two ROTY candidates

Yoshinobu Yamamoto’s outing against the Marlins was a condensed version of how his first season in the majors has gone. He gave up a home run on the very first pitch of the game, settled in, and dominated hitters the rest of the way. Yamamoto’s big league debut came in Seoul, South Korea, against the Padres. He gave up five runs in the first inning and was pulled from the game. Over seven starts since his disastrous first appearance, he is 4-0 with a 1.75 ERA. Against Miami, Yamamoto completed a career-high eight innings, giving up two runs while allowing only five batters to reach base. Yoshinobu with eight dominant innings! pic.twitter.com/RdINolN3k4— Los Angeles Dodgers (@Dodgers) May 8, 2024 “When he takes the baseball, you start to have that feeling that it’s Yamamoto’s day; this is win day,” said Dave Roberts. I personally have been hesitant to put that on him. I just wanted him to get his feet wet and get acclimated to big league baseball, but to his credit, he's kind of earning that right to be looked at as such.” Now that he is settled in Yamamoto looks every bit the 325-million-dollar pitcher the Dodgers paid him to be. His strong start has him ranked as one of the top NL Rookie of the Year contenders. “We have a great environment. I think having Shohei here, and the Japanese support that he has here made this transition a lot easier for him, faster than I think he would have expected, and I do think that that's led to the success and confidence that you're seeing now,” said Roberts. Another first-year player for the Dodgers is putting himself in a position to give Yamamoto a run for his money. The damage Andy Pages has done at the plate gives Los Angeles two of the top rookies in the league. Since debuting in mid-April, Pages has had a four-hit game, strung together a ten-game hitting streak, and produced the Dodgers' first walk-off win of 2024. The 23-year-old can rake. He hit .371 in Triple-A before being called up and has continued to produce at the next level, batting .307 with four home runs in 19 games for the Dodgers. "Every time he gets up there, it seems like he takes a good at-bat. The moment certainly doesn't get too big for him," said Roberts after his walk-off single against the Braves. "I just love the fight, and he wasn't going to let anyone else win that game for us tonight." WALK IT OFF, ANDY. pic.twitter.com/EyXPe61ZS0— Los Angeles Dodgers (@Dodgers) May 4, 2024 Pages crushed in Spring Training as well when he posted an absurd 1.571 OPS, but he still failed to make the opening-day roster due to Los Angeles's veteran talent. The way he has been swinging the bat all year makes him now an important piece of the puzzle that is here to stay. "We have a lot of really good players on this team, and I have had a lot of conversations with them. They have helped me, and I have been able to take the things I have learned and use them on the field," said Pages. The Dodgers have always been one of the most aggressive teams when it comes to signing international players, and their minor league talent is top-tier year in and year out. Los Angeles is fortunate to be a star-driven organization, but what makes them elite is their ability to develop stars in-house as well. Having one Rookie of the Year candidate is great, but having two on a team that was already the favorite to win the World Series heading into the season is the icing on the cake. Top image caption: PHOENIX, AZ - MAY 01: Los Angeles Dodgers starting pitcher Yoshinobu Yamamoto pitches during the Major League Baseball game between the Arizona Diamondbacks and Los Angeles Dodgers at Chase Field in Phoenix, Ariz. (Photo by Wilfred Perez/Icon Sportswire) Read the full article

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 17

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

If that's too steep for you but you'd still like to support my work, consider making a one-time donation via Ko-Fi:

Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Zeke

4 Years Ago

“Hey there,” I said as I walked through the Lair, our school’s main cafeteria, renowned for its aggressively mediocre food. It  was a wide room divided into two halves, and overlooked an admittedly gorgeous lawn leading to the big white chapel that was on all of our brochures. The lighting was dim in the late evening hours- the cafeteria was closing in less than an hour, but I’d been so busy at the library trying to get caught up on everything that I’d barely even looked at the time. And then my stomach growled and I realized I hadn’t eaten in almost twelve hours, at which point I braved the thousand yard trek from the library to the Lair. I’d managed to acquire a club sandwich for myself and searched far and wide across the cafeteria in search of someone, anyone, I even remotely knew, anything to say I was at least making some goddamn friends finally. I traversed all the way to the far end, overlooking the law, where, atop a pleather seat in a booth eating a caesar salad, I found someone. “It’s Watanabe, right? Don’t we have two classes together?”

The rumpled, exhausted looking boy with the shaggy black hair falling around his face looked up from his salad and his phone and made eye contact with me, seeming legitimately startled that anyone was talking to him. “Oh, uh, yeah, I think so. But, I… Uh, I don’t think I remember your name?”

“Zeke Underhill,” I smiled. “Mind if I sit? This place looks haunted at night, figured it’s better to have strength in numbers.”

He laughed weakly. “Yeah, I suppose so. Uh, go ahead and sit. I don’t know if I’m that great of company, though.”

“I mean you’re here, aren’t you?” I said. “That’s all that’s required.”

“Yeah, but I meant, like, conversationally.” “We’re talking right now, aren’t we?”

He gave another weak laugh, filtered through a snort. “Yeah, I guess. Anything else you wanna talk about?” 

“You ready for Professor Eddington’s test next week?”

“We have a test? Already?” Watanabe leaned forward, panic encroaching on his acne-marked face. 

“Yeah, he announced it yesterday,” I said. 

“Shit.”

“You were there yesterday- I saw you,” I pointed out.

“I… Was distracted.”

“By what?”

He did a conspiratorial double-take, then pulled up an image on his phone and slid it over to me. “I call her Dai Gurren.”

“Oh, awesome!” I said. “Like from Gurren Lagan?”

“Yeah! You a fan?”

“Huge- love anime. Giant robots for days,” I said. 

“Awesome!” he said. “What are your favorites?”

“Uh, Gundam, especially SEED and IBO. Raxephon, Mazinger Z, IGPX-”

“I! G! P! X!” he said, fist pumping at each letter. It was certainly something- he’d practically come alive once we’d both started speaking the shared language of nerd. We wound up talking for a while after that, and he invited me to hang out in his dorm’s common room with him the next night to watch Planet With. So, I headed over there at 8 PM, into a beige room with a collection of couches and desks and a plasma screen television adorning the far wall. 

A girl was there with him, short and black with great hair and huge… Tracts of land. 

“Zeke, this is my girlfriend, Olivia,” he said. “Olivia, this is Zeke, from our class with Eddington.”

“Nice to meet you,” Olivia said, half-heartedly offering a handshake. 

I picked up on a disappointed vibe from her before even making hand-contact. “You too. Hey, uh, if you guys wanna have a date night, I can scram-”

“No, it’s fine,” Watanabe said. 

I noted the frustrated look on Olivia’s face right away. “Aaaare you sure, Watanbe?”

“Please, call me Frank,” he said. “And yeah, it’s fine. Olivia and I wanted to ask you something, anyway.”

“We did?” Olivia said. 

“Yeah, we did,” Frank furrowed his brow. “But not till later. For now, let’s watch this weird freaking show!”

And so we did, though after an episode, Olivia and Frank started making out right next to me. I tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the tv, but then it kept going the entirety of the second episode. 

“I’ll see myself out,” I said, getting up from the uncomfortable couch and heading for the door. 

Frank pulled himself off of his girlfriend for five seconds and managed to grab me by the back of my shirt. “Wait! WAIT! Not yet!” 

 I rolled my eyes and gave a mild exhale. “What’s up?”

“Still need to ask you something!”

“Then fire away,” I said, struggling not to laugh.

“Do you wanna join our robotics team?” he asked. “I want at least three of us for it, and based on our conversation yesterday, I’d say you really know your stuff.”

I turned around and looked at Frank, all pleading and hopeful and earnest and enthusiastic, while also noting Olivia’s face- annoyed, frustrated, but some of that was seemingly aimed at herself more than at me. 

“Sure,” I said. I mean what the hell, it would be the closest thing I had to a social life. What was the worst that could happen?

***

NOW

Kate stood on her tip toes as she kissed me goodnight under the lamppost on the corner of my street, her lips wet and slick from her lipstick, her tongue entering my mouth as mine entered hers, her hands on my chest as mine squeezed her butt. She giggled, and gave me one more peck on the cheek. “You have a good night, Mr. Underhill?”

“I had a great night, Ms. Calloway,” I said, drinking in the cherry-blossom scent of her perfume. “Sure I can’t convince you to come up for a night-cap?”

“My heart says yes, my brain and body say I’m exhausted after tonight,” she said. “Say hi to Faith for me, though. Let’s all hang out again this week, yeah?”

“Definitely,” I said. 

She turned around and started to scamper off, but then pivoted around and ran back to me and kissed me one more time. I stood there, stunned as she ran off again, but I smiled anyway. ‘Hate to see her leave, love to watch her walk away’ as she herself admitted she’d once thought about me. 

I ambled up to my apartment, the witching hour long since past, whistling ‘Feel Good Inc’ under my breath as I turned on the hallway light and took off my leather jacket. Kate and I had gotten In ‘N’ Out and eaten our burgers together in the back of her truck while parked on top of a cliff in the Hollywood Hills. We looked out into the city and just… Talked. About us. About the tournament. About Kate’s whole ‘image makeover’ plan. I’d never been great at the self-promotion stuff, but she seemed to be taking to it relatively well. 

And then, you know… We made out a bunch. Started getting a little frisky but stopped short of outright fooling around. We weren’t there yet, and Kate admitted she wasn’t sure if she was totally comfortable exploring her body like that at the moment. At least not until she was further along in her transition. Still, it wasn’t an absolute, and she’d even said if there was anyone she’d wanted to explore it with

I jumped when I saw Faith laying on the couch, staring up at her phone while All My Children played on mute from the tv screen. A handle of vodka sat on the coffee-table, significantly reduced in contents compared to when I’d last laid eyes on it. “Hey,” I said, walking over to the couch. “You okay?”

“No,” she said. “I’m drinking alone- does that sound okay to you?”

“It definitely doesn’t,” I said, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, pushing aside the table to make some room for me in this equation. “What’s going on? Who are you texting?”

“I’m not texting anyone,” Faith said, rolling onto her side and facing me. “I’m contemplating texting Olivia.”

“Oh?” I said, swatting her hand away when she tried to reach for the vodka. “What are you contemplating texting her?”

She looked at me with a tortured expression. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Okay, I won’t make you say it. But if you don’t, then I can’t help talk you down from this proverbial ledge, girl,” I said. 

She pouted. Which was in no way cute, definitely not, I definitely wasn’t still thinking that about her. Not in the slightest. “I miss her.”

My jaw dropped, and I blinked. Hard. “What?”

“I… She… I miss her.”

“You… Miss her. After what she did to you, you miss her?”

“She apologized,” Faith said weakly. 

“After what she did to Kate, you miss her?”

“Kate started it,” Faith said with a wave of her hand.

My eyes narrowed. 

“Okay, that’s not a great line of internal logic, I know,” she said, sitting up and crossing her legs. “But like… Kate did provoke her.”

“What are you gonna say next? That you provoked Olivia into cussing you out when you-”

“Don’t go there, Zeke,” Faith snapped. “And don’t… Don’t make that comparison, please.”

“Okay, but can you please consider this from my perspective for a moment?” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Olivia has now been weird and hostile about two trans girls coming out to her- one is my best friend, the other is my girlfriend.”

Her eyes, previously fixed on our rotating ceiling fan, shot towards me. “Girlfriend?”

“Y-yeah,” I said, flinching at her intensity. “We’re… Uh, well, we’re putting labels on it now.”

“How long has that been a thing?”

“About,” I started, then checked the clock on the homescreen of my phone, “Five hours?”

“I see.”

“What?” I asked. 

“... Nothing.”

“Don’t do that, Faith,” I said, “If you’ve something to say, please just say it.”

“...”

“Faith.”

“...”

“Faith!” I said. No, no, stop getting angry with her- she’s drunk, you’ve dealt with drunk people plenty of times without losing your temper. She’s drunk and she’s lovesick and she’s dealing with the uncomfortable truth that someone she loved might not exactly be the best person ever. 

Then again, it wasn’t like I was in any way unbiased where Olivia Root was concerned. 

I inhaled and exhaled through my nose, letting the fresh air filter up into my brain and clear out all the junk. “Actually, it’s okay. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through with all this, you don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to tell me.”

“But I do wanna tell you, I just… Can’t,” she said, looking down at me, hair framing her face beautifully, freshly-shaven legs stretched across the couch… 

NO, NO, BAD! I thought instantly. You have a girlfriend. Do not check out Faith like that. You are not gonna be like Dad. “Okay,” I said, “If you can’t, then you can’t. Just please, please don’t text Olivia the ‘I miss you’ text- I’m really worried about what’s down that road.”

She nodded sagely… And then hiccuped. I suppressed a chuckle

She failed to suppress hers, which I didn’t not think was cute. She’s. Just. A. Friend. I repeated the mantra in my mind over and over again. 

“How was your date?” she asked. 

“Really nice,” I said.

She winced. I squinted. Was she… Okay, no, no, no, no. Don’t read into that. Just don’t. Nothing good down that road either. 

“Kate really is something, isn’t she?” Faith asked. 

“Yeah,” I smiled, the image flickering in my mind of her on my lap in the back of that truck, the city below us and the stars above, all the time and opportunity in the world. I felt like I could be whoever I wanted to be when I was around her, and I knew she felt the same about me. “I’m… I’m glad you two have become friends.”

She gave a smile I couldn’t help but think looked a bit bitter, and said, “I am too.”

That was when both of our phones went off. We checked them, and I saw an alert from the robot fighting tournament committee. Next week’s fights had been announced. Faith and I’s next fight had been announced. 

“Oh, crap,” we both said at the same time. 

***

9 Months Ago

“Hey, uh, Zeke?” 

“What’s up, Faithy?” I said, sitting at the kitchen table and eating a plate of turkey sausage and scrambled eggs while scrolling through some onboarding documents on my laptop that I had to read for a temp job that started tomorrow. Help getting a new type of passenger plane ready- they needed extra workers for a few months, but there was no chance of it leading to anything full-time. Perfect, as far as I was concerned. 

Faith was having a bit more trouble finding temp jobs since she started her transition a few months back- nobody said out loud they didn’t wanna hire her because she was trans, but it was hard for her- or me, for that matter- to take it any other way when she was a bloody genius engineer and yet they kept hiring other folks from our graduating class who I knew weren’t as smart as her. 

Such as me, for example. 

“Will you take me bra shopping?” she asked. She stood in the doorway to her room, wearing a baggy black and gold West Point football jersey over her long red skirt. Interesting fashion choice in the middle of the last gasp of the baking summer heat. 

I nearly spat out my black coffee. “Um… Yes?”

“Really? You mean it? I don’t wanna inconvenience you-”

“I’m just a little confused as to why you want me to go with you. Did you suddenly forget how to drive?”

“No, it’s not that,” Faith said. “I just… Look, my breasts are budding and my nipples are all poking through my tops, but I don’t really pass yet, so I’m kinda scared to go bra shopping alone, okay?”

I tilted my head, looking at the five-foot-three-inch girl with the perfect hair and the perfect makeup, and sincerely wondered how anyone could see anything other than a young woman. “Alright, sure. Just gimme a few minutes.”

“Are you sure- I know you’ve gotta read and sign all that stuff by tomorrow-”

“It can wait a few hours,” I said, closing my laptop and standing up. 

As I made my way for my bedroom to put my computer away, Faith asked, “Can I hug you?”

She’d been asking that a lot, lately. “You know you don’t always have to ask, right?”

“Yeah, but, I… I don’t wanna make anyone uncomfortable,” she said, looking at her feet as they traced the surface of the floor. 

I smiled gently. “You could never make me uncomfortable, Faith.”

“I did that one time, when Olivia and I kept making out right next to you-”

“Yeah, but that’s her fault for being a jackass,” I said. 

Faith glared at me. 

“Sorry,” I said, “Forgot I wasn’t supposed to do that.”

I stepped around her, but then she grabbed a fistful of the back of my shirt again. I chuckled, then turned around and hugged her. 

And then I felt something, two somethings, poking my chest. 

My eyes bulged. “Uh, Faith-”

Her eyes did the same, and she leapt off of me. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I said, laughing nervously, scratching the back of my head. 

Silence, so awkward it belonged in an episode of The Office, sat over the room. 

Finally, Faith broke it: “Well, uh, do you get the point now?”

My mouth curved up into a smile. 

“Or do you need another poke?” she said, looking ready to mug for the proverbial camera. 

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Just the tips, right?” she said.

And I laughed, waaaaayyy harder than I should have at puns that stupid. And she giggled at her own joke, swaying back and forth as she stood there, light from the window scattering around her hair like a brilliant halo, framing her in all her awkward, ridiculous, degenerate, glory. And I saw her. I saw HER. And she was the same person I’d met all those years ago, but everything that had always been good about her- her heart, her humor, her sincerity- had all been amplified twenty fold and was now wrapped up in a very pretty package. 

A shot of emotion, hot and fierce and downright ravenous, went through my heart and pumped through the rest of my body. Yearning, desire, attraction, all slamming into me like a violent tide. 

Oh, crap, I thought.

***

Present Day

The names ‘George Gregson’ and ‘Pendulum’ loomed large in the robotics community. Winning five championships and only having four total losses in the professional circuit to your name over a decade-spanning career tended to have that effect. Faith and I had been lucky enough to not have to face him at all our freshman season, and that he’d been knocked out of the championships due to mechanical failure in the semi-finals. 

Yes, that’s right- Kate had beaten the guy. On a technicality- his engine just overheated and shorted out within ten seconds of the match starting. Kate hadn’t landed a single blow against the guy before experiencing victory by default, something even she admitted was pretty hollow. But it was also the only reason she’d gotten to the finals. Which was probably the only reason Faith and I had won last year, because I was convinced we would lose to Pendulum in a fair fight. Olivia and Faith had a similar opinion on our prospects against Gregson last season. 

And given Gregson already had a 3-0 record and was basically guaranteed a spot in the championship bracket, I saw no reason for this season to be any different. 

Faith and I stood in our rented garage in Culver City, looking at Dai Gurren, wondering what, precisely, the hell we were going to do.

“This is bad, Zeke,” Faith said. 

“I know it’s bad, Faithy,” I replied. 

“Please don’t call me that anymore,” she said, somewhat curtly. 

I blinked. “Ooookay,” I said, hoping the bite wasn’t too obvious in my voice. 

If it was, she didn’t notice, or at least pretended not to. “We need to win both of our remaining fights if we want a spot in the championship.”

“I am aware of this,” I said, breaking the power tools out of their plastic containers. Drills. Lots of drills. Appropriately enough. “So, Ms. Chief Engineer/Team Captain: how do we approach this?”

Faith took out a drill and pulled on a pair of safety goggles. “We work with what we’ve got. Also, text Kate the address and tell her to meet us here. I have an idea.”

I fired off the text, and then Faith and I started disassembling the front of Dai Gurren and removing the maw of six small drills. We replaced them with much larger, thicker drills, all made of titanium and sharp enough to puncture sheet iron. And which, hopefully, would stand up to Pendulum’s swing of death a bit better. 

Pendulum was the type of unconventional bot that worked primarily through raw power. It was tall and cylindrical, painted jet black and made of carbon steel. Down the middle was a hammer that was normally nestled safely inside a slot, held in place by a magnet, but a flip of Gregson’s control panel caused the magnet to turn over to a reversed charge magnet that repelled the metal hammer with a terrifying concussive impact. I’d seen it undercut bots and tear their faceplates off, shatter weapons and crush wheels and brutalize engines. It was perfectly designed to destroy flippers and spinners, and most drills and other melee weapons weren’t safe to use in a direct assault. You had to come at Pendulum from an angle, stay out of its range. That was its only real weakness- the angle of its attack was limited to what was right in front of it. 

Which would be less of a problem if Gregson weren’t also a ridiculously good driver. So good, the only driver I could imagine having even a fraction of a chance against him was… 

Entering the garage right that moment, wearing ripped jeans and a purple tank top, her hair tied back and her face sans-makeup. “Hello there!”

I smiled. “General K-”

“We don’t have time,” Faith said. “Hey, Kate. Did you bring the stuff?”

“Poly’s in my truck,” she said, hitching her thumb back and pointing to the parking lot outside. “I’m not crazy about incurring a bunch of damage outside the box though.”

“Then it’s a good thing this will be a no-contact match,” Faith said. “We just need to work on our driving.” She pointed at me without making eye contact. “We both do.”

Okay, this was getting a little ridiculous. But now probably wasn’t the time or the place, so I let it slide. 

We cleared out the workstation, swept the floor clean, and put the bots on the ground: Polyphemus, Dai Gurren, and Gurren, our minibot. It was barely the size of Faith’s handbag, with a single drill protruding from the front. But we would need every weapon in our arsenal if we had a snowball’s chance in hell on this one. 

“Ready?” Kate asked from the other side of our garage. 

“Ready,” Faith said. 

“Ready,” I said, not feeling at all ready. This, a match against Kate, felt… Wrong. Even a training match, a glorified game of two-hand-touch football, felt distinctly off when fought against my girlfriend. 

Which could pose a serious problem going forward. 

Polyphemus’ ax was still attached, meaning it was moving slower than it would normally. Which was good- Pendulum’s slow and steady speed was one thing we could plan for. Even still, Kate hurdled towards us, dividing our two bots down the middle and pivoting left very suddenly to aim for DG. Faith went on the retreat, letting Poly chase DG in circles before suddenly changing direction while I went after Kate from behind. 

That was when Kate shot left again and went on the retreat; Poly slid over to my feet and skidded into a sharp turn as both DG and regular G were giving chase. 

I flanked wide and went around the room counterclockwise, going towards Poly at its center before banking right and connecting, very lightly, with its wheel. Faith did the same with its other side. 

“You got me!” Kate said. “Great job!”

“Thanks!” I smiled. 

“It’s not good enough,” Faith said. 

“Huh?” I said. 

“We need to be on the offensive the entire time, both of us. Gregson is relentless- he will not give us the chance to get our bearings. Let’s go again.”

And because she was, objectively speaking, correct, I nodded, and we went again. 

Kate didn’t make it easy on us, forcing us to scramble for enough ground to try and attack her from the sides, but after a few minutes we managed it. 

But it wasn’t good enough for Faith, so we went again. 

And again. 

And again, and again, and again, a few more times after that, until we all ran out of fuel. 

“Okay, I think we’re done for the day,” I finally said. 

“What are you talking about?” Faith said. 

“We can’t expend any more of our fuel budget if we wanna be able to comp Katie for helping us today,” I said. “Which you agreed to do- in fact, you suggested it.”

“That… Okay, yeah, fair enough,” Faith said. 

“Good fight, y’all,” Kate said, walking over and taking her goggles off, then taking mine off of my face and poking my nose playfully. “Boop.” 

I smiled, and probably looked like a huge dork. 

Kate went to do the same with Faith, but swatted her hand away. 

“Sorry,” Kate said. 

“You really need to work on not touching people all the time without warning!” Faith said with a nasty grimace and a clenched jaw. 

Kate’s eyes dropped. “Sorry.”

My eyes narrowed. “Little hostile there, Faithy, don’t you think?”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that!” she snapped. 

I balked, then raised a finger and took a step forward. “What is going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what aren’t you telling me?” I said. “Because it’s clearly something- you’ve said as much.”

“I also said I didn’t wanna tell you.”

“And that’s fair. But what isn’t fair is you taking out your frustration over that fact on me and especially on my girlfriend!”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Kate said, holding up both hands and offering a conciliatory smile. 

“Like hell it isn’t- you came all the way over here to help us, your competition, do better in a fight, in spite of the risks to your bot and having to take time away from your own stuff to do this,” I said, “And Faith rewards you by acting like a drill sergeant and then hissing at you!”

“Oh for- don’t do that! Don’t use your girlfriend like a talking point in your argument. Your problem is with me, don’t make it about how she and I are trying to establish boundaries!” Faith said. 

“You both know I’m standing right here, yeah?” Kate said flatly. 

“Yes!” Faith and I both shouted. 

Kate stared at us… Actually, glared is probably the better word. “I can’t believe I’m the rational one in this room right now. That literally never happens.”

I winced. “You’re right, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine,” she said, “This isn’t actually about me. You both think it is, but it’s really not.”

“Kate,” Faith whined. 

“What does that mean?” I asked. Oh no. Oh no no no. 

“It means-”

“Don’t!” Faith snapped again. “It is not your place to tell him that!”

“Tell me what?!” I shouted. Please, say it ain’t so. 

Kate breathed in through her nose slowly, then out through her mouth with equal speed and purpose. “Tell you guys what- I’m gonna run to the gas station on the corner, get us all some sodas. And while I’m gone, you two can hash this out.”

“Please don’t,” Faith said. 

“Watanabe, seriously, it’s time to face the truth,” Kate said. “It really will set you free.”

She turned on her heel and left before either Faith or I could stop her. 

Leaving the two of us there with nothing but the proverbial elephant in the room. Dread gnawed at my stomach lining like mud wasps digging into my flesh. It couldn’t be what I thought it was. There was no way. 

But it would explain… Well, a lot of stuff, honestly. 

I took off my work gloves and heaved a sigh. “So…”

“So?”

“So.”

“Yeah,” Faith said. 

“Yeah what?”

“I…”

I closed my eyes. “Faith. We have the fight of our lives coming up on Friday, and we need to be a functional team when that happens. If you’re just stressed about that, then that’s fine, I’ll accept it. But I need you to talk to me.”

“I… Can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both?”

“Faith.” There was no other explanation. Nothing else made sense. But if she didn’t say it… It would keep eating away at her. But I still had no right to force her to say anything. “Maybe I should just go home, let you cool off.”

I started towards the exit, then felt a tug on the back of my shirt. 

I turned my head, and saw her clinging to me, face scrunched up, tears falling out her eyes. “Wait.”

So I waited. 

“I like you, Zeke,” Faith said, half a whisper and half a scream. “I like you a lot, and I have for a long time. Since… Before I was even living as the real me. You’ve always been there for me, propping me up when I just wanted to fall down, and… I can’t picture myself without you. I like you.”

My back went stiff, and I didn’t turn around. I… It just… Hearing that, from her, after all this time… It sent a hundred million different thoughts pinballing inside my brain simultaneously. The first one was an instinct, to turn around and kiss her, to sweep her off her feet and make violent love to her on the floor. 

The next one, far louder, far angrier, was ‘I won’t be like Dad.’

“Why… Why did you wait so long?” I asked, still not facing her. 

“I was scared,” she said, still not letting me go. 

“Scared of what?”

“That you wouldn’t like me back. That I’d ruin things between us. That you’d reject me like Olivia did and then I’d… Then I’d be all alone.”

The words screamed inside my mind: I could never reject you. I could never let you be all alone. They were followed by the words, You only ruined things by waiting until now to tell me. 

I gulped as I thought that, disgust coagulating inside my core. What is wrong with me- she’s pouring her heart out to me, and I need to say something. Anything. 

“Do you hate me?” Faith asked. 

“I could never hate you,” I said, and it was the truth. “You’re my best freaking friend.”

“And that’s all?” she asked. 

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” I said. “I’m with Kate- you know I’m-”

“I know. And she’s… She’s a gem. I was wrong about her. The fact that she’s okay with me having this conversation alone with her boyfriend is… It says a lot, I think. Especially about how trusting she is.”

“I agree. So you can see why it’s important that neither of us betray that trust,” I said evenly. Finally, slowly, I turned around.

I regretted it immediately upon seeing the tears flooding out of her. Faith said, “You’re right. And I don’t wanna hurt her like…”

I knitted my eyebrows together. “Like?”

“Like Olivia did with me. I don’t… I don’t wanna hurt either of you, and I feel like the longer I stay here, the longer I do this, the more likely it will become that I do.”

I reached for her shoulders. “That’s not gonna happen.”

She pulled away, stepped out of my reach, and said, with the guiltiest voice I’d ever heard, “It already has. You don’t even know that you’re crying too, do you?”

“W-what?” I reached for my eyes and found the water leaking out. 

“This was a mistake,” she said, taking a few more steps back. “I’m a damn coward and this was all a mistake. I- I’m sorry, Zeke. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you all this, and I’m sorry for putting you in this position. I know how much you don’t… Don’t wanna be like your dad. This isn’t fair to you. Or her. Or anyone.”

She started for the back exit, and I started after her. I reached for her. 

She pivoted and swatted my hand away. “Don’t follow me. Please just… I need to be alone right now. Go to Kate, Zeke. Go be with your girlfriend. You deserve someone like her.”

She ran out, and left me there, too stunned to say anything or move. By the time I regained my senses and chased her out into the parking lot, she’d already gotten in our car and started driving away. 

“Um… What just happened?” Kate said.

I jumped, turned around, and saw her walking up behind me with a can of soda in one hand and a plastic convenience store bag in t’other one. 

She hugged me without asking- she didn’t need to anymore. And right then… I needed it. I just needed it. “I messed up.”

She held me close and tight, and we stood there a while under the harsh light of day.

[renee-ckstrong]

Calling in the boyfriend (Kenny Omega x Kota Ibushi)

I guess I write fanfics now.

It had gotten to that point. The Elite were in a bad way and they needed a fifth man for Blood and Guts. Kenny knew that the perfect person was just a phone call away, he'd been thinking about calling him for the better part of 4 years. Since AEW had started all Kenny had wanted was for them to be in the same company again. And after around 30 minuets of staring at his phone he finally pressed call.

"Hey" answered Kota. Kenny paused, the words getting stuck in his throat. He'd waited so long to here that voice.

"Hello? Kenny are you there?" Kota asked confused.

"Yes! Sorry. I'm here." Kenny said quickly hoping he hadn't been too awkward. "Hi so...it's been a while. I...I need your help. There's this group-"

But Kota cut him off, "I know. I can make it to Blood and Guts if that's what your asking. I do watch AEW by the way. How could I not? Of course I kept up with what you were doing. Honestly I'm almost insulted you're only calling me now." Kenny wanted to cry, because in that moment he knew that everything was going to be okay, he had Kota back and that meant everything to him.

"I...thank you so much. I love you." It felt like he had to say it. Things had been weird since he left Japan but one thing was for sure, he always felt best when he was with Kota.

"I love you to Kenny. I'll be on the next flight to Boston, the BCC aren't ready for the Golden Lovers and they certainly aren't ready for Kota Ibushi. I'll see you at show."

"I can't wait." Kenny replied as he hung up, heart swelling with the excitement that he would fight alongside Kota again. Kenny, for the first in weeks, could go to sleep happy.

--------------------------------------------------

Kenny was woken up startled in the early hours of the morning by a call from Kota, "Hey Kenny, it's been a while since I've been to the US. I'm at the airport and I think I took the wrong plane I don't know where I am."

To be continued maybe...