#he's yelling in her face and berating her to agree with him until she does it. that's a coerced fucking confession.

[all-pacas]

thinking about my enemy (saviors) again

i think my problem/frustration in the episode is that it only last one episode, right?

so to recap, it's the camchase engagement episode. cameron is freaking out because she found the ring, and she's avoiding chase while she processes. the episode is very much on her side: it doesn't suggest she's right to do this, but it's sympathetic to her reasons: she's afraid for a number of reasons. she thinks chase doesn't "mean it", that it's a reaction to kutner dying and him being impulsive. that the relationship might not last ( l o l ). that losing people is scary and commitment is scary and she's just scared. and she does a very cameron thing and tries to extract herself entirely from the situation, push it away. she doesn't, she explains to house, want to say yes or no. she wants this situation to not happen.

cameron is also fairly clear that it isn't about not wanting to be with chase, both explicitly and implicitly (he dumps her in the episode, so there's that problem solved; she also makes it clear that her biggest fear is that he isn't serious, not that she doesn't want to marry him). and honestly? i get it! i am sympathetic! i think she goes about all this totally wrong, but the episode and house agree with that; cameron is fucking up. by avoiding chase, she's making the situation much worse. chase breaks up with her about it. she fucked up! so far, so good. and then cameron realizes she fucked up and goes to him to………………… apologize? you'd think, right?

meanwhile!

chase goes through like 8 stages of a breakup in this episode. at first, cameron tells him she has a really good, but secret, reason for cancelling their vacation. he is not thrilled, fair enough, but he gives her the benefit of the doubt. cameron says she just needs a day. a day passes.

chase realizes that she is still avoiding him, while also hanging all over house. the show tries to play this as ooooooh love triangle, but none of the characters really take this seriously; chase does go through the motions of jealousy but doesn't really seem that worried about the house part, just the cameron lying to him part. she promises him she has a very good reason for this. he confronts her about this: ("So you admit you lied to me. And now you’re asking me to trust you?"), but reluctantly agrees to keep waiting. clearly he's getting pretty stressed, but he's being a good boyfriend here.

cameron continues to lie and avoid him, and chase finds out she's been at work this whole time, that she's been kicked off house's case (thus lying about what she's doing), etc. he confronts her again and demands to know what's going on. she doesn't tell him. he dumps her.

so far? i don't have any issues. from either of them! they're both acting… maybe not rationally, but as you'd expect. cameron is trying to avoid confrontation and facing her feelings and got hit by consequences she wasn't expecting. part of her is trying to blow up the relationship because it's easier than doing something scary like talk about feelings. chase tried to give her space and time, drew a line, and broke up with cameron when she refused to meet him there. it's sad for them both; it's in character for them both.

so here's the problem. here's the big fucking problem.

cameron realizes, with help from house, that she fucked up. so she goes to chase to apologize (she never apologizes) and try to get him to take her back. she explains why she was freaked out: she found the ring and was scared, but she knows it was an excuse and does want to marry him. she then asks him to propose to her, i guess to prove that she does want to say yes, but cameron, get on your damn knee, come on, he dumped you.

here's the problem.

cameron has been promising that she had a really good reason why she was avoiding chase. she has insisted to him for days that it's a real reason and she just can't tell him: chase has no idea why she's been acting this way, just that she did. so he finally finds out, right? and the reason is: the sheer concept of marrying you made me ghost you.

i mean, yes. the reason is cameron was scared. in lockdown they subtly retcon this into i had cold feet, i say subtly not because that isn't true but it severely downplays the "ghost you until you dump me" of it all. but. can you imagine. can you imagine wanting to marry someone and finding out the big secret, really good, really justified, reason they've been avoiding you was they know that.

cameron never apologizes. the show treats her as wrong, in that her panic spiral was misguided and ended up with her dealing with consequences she does not want -- her actions bit her in the ass! oh no! -- but the show never really gives us chase's pov or chase's perspective on this. "i changed my mind! propose to me now!" it is considered a victory that he does. they are happy. they tell cuddy, holding hands. it is a happy ending.

from his perspective, he's looking forward to a nice minibreak, he's planning to propose, his girlfriend suddenly cancels but says she has a good reason for it, starts lying to him, he dumps her very reluctantly because she refuses to talk to him, and then he finds out that all of this is because she hated the idea of him proposing that much. she explains this to him and asks he propose anyway. she does not apologize or acknowledge he was right to break up with her or express guilt for her actions.

to be clear, it is not meant to be like this. from the way the episode never addresses this again to the way camchase are happy-go-lucky and happy going forward (the sperm thing, a relative non-issue in comparison -- they both compromise for the other immediately -- lasts two episodes and is given more weight), to the way chase apparently has no doubts or worries whatsoever two weeks later -- it is clear this is meant to be a sweet episode. we are meant to feel bad for cameron and happy she worked out her issues. this is a romantic proposal. did they have a long conversation about it off screen? who knows! i hate this episode so much <3

-

when chase, in lockdown, says that cameron never loved him, it's always struck me as a very silly little retcon. the whole conversation. the whole subplot. it's not bad, certainly not in the same way as saviors is, but it's different, because up until this point, we've always seen the relationship from cameron's pov: she's had all the agency and power. when she makes mistakes or has to learn and grow, it's always in a "she's being so brave about it!" sort of way: we never get to see chase Learn and Grow or make mistakes (and it isn't because he's so perfect and not a fuck up, it's because cameron is much more important to the show than he is). it's also a retcon because we see cameron fight for and make sacrifices/changes for the relationship, a lot: she quit in s3 out of loyalty to chase (as stated by house later). she falls over herself in the itch and both sides now to make chase happy.

as part of the you-never-loved-me exchange in lockdown, there's a very funny bit where chase is listing cameron's red flags and she protests each one. it's funny because there was no basis for this in the episodes we saw, but i actually do kind of think this was the intent: she called him over for meth sex because she already liked him (we see in s1+2 that actually they are friends, even if it's never underlined). she dumped him in s3 because she did have feelings and was scared (as chase himself points out in s3; as she agrees with implicitly in act your age and human error, but the show again forgot to underline the point). i actually think we were meant to see the relationship as cameron lays it out. i had cold feet, she says, to justify saviors. this is true. it also makes her behavior kind of not a big deal. this is exactly how the episode presents it.

chase's "you never loved me" rant is funny, because for the first time, the show is on his side. things that were genuinely not seen as issues or important when we were in cameron's pov are suddenly problems. chase is still on the show, and now his feelings matter. suddenly, saviors was grounds for divorce, and not the sweet music montage niceness it presented itself as at the time. suddenly their divorce is about cameron, when earlier in the season it was very much about chase.

[deadghosy]

HOW THEY REACT TO CHILD READER GETTING BULLIED:

Various x GN! CHILD READER

LUCIFER

You were in your chamber holding your busted up backpack as your father comes in happy to see his little angel after school. As he walks in your room he sees your deflated attitude as it affects him as well.

“What’s wrong darling?”

Is what he says as he keeps a calm posture until reveal to him that you are getting by the kids. You told him how the teachers don’t do shit for you as they only watch you get bullied and give shitty advice for you to only ignore them and not do anything as they do stuff to you.

Well, that drives your father, the king himself, THE BIG BOSS OF HELL HIMSELF TO FUMES!

His eyes turning a flashing red as the next thing you know he poofed into a red mist.

You were confused until you heard screaming outside, you checked your big window to see your school in flames. And holy shit….the worse teacher is on fire as Lucifer chuckles saying.

“DONT FUCK WITH MY CHILD!”

He calmed down when he came back home telling you gently that you are now home schooled. He also brings you your favorite ice cream.

ALASTOR

Alastor hums walking through the hotel’s hallway until he hears sniffles of yours.

Alastor opens your door confused with a small smile to see his little doe curled up like a ball on your bed

“My doe…what’s wrong?”

The moment you mutter that you are getting picked on. They’re already dead.

Like literally he sends his shadows to kill them. He doesn’t care as long as you feel safe and sound.

He might as well home school you as well with the help of Charlie teaching you things beside him.

ADAM

I HARDLYYYYY doubt that there are bullies in heaven as heaven isn’t for sinners or such as people who act rude as hell.

But let’s just say you get bullied for not getting your wings yet and you come home mad and ashamed for even being an angel.

Adam was on his Xbox seeing his own child stomp off to their room, he raises a brow going to your room.

“Yo kiddo. What’s up with you, little shit?” He asked as he knocks on your door only for you to yell at him to leave you alone. Adam scoffs and unlocks your door pissed off.

“Who the fuck you think you’re…yelling at?” He stops seeing your tear filled face as you cover yourself under your blanket. He actually looks concerned and sits on your bed awkwardly not knowing how to comfort you but he pats your back as you nuzzle against his larger Frame of your father.

You told him what happened and he is pissed but not raged. He starts to lecture you about how you are the dickmaster’s child, so you should show them how fucking powerful you are.

He also tells sera about this so she can get them a punishment about how be a perfect angel.

CHARLIE

You straight up told her you were getting bullied for having two moms. And she took this to the principal of the school as the princess, future queen probably of hell.

Let’s say the principal didn’t give a fuck. So okay maybe she got big mad and almost spit fire at the lady in charge of your school. But she exited that school letting you treat yourself with ice cream and treats.

She decided to homeschool you with VAGGIE and the other hotel staff to teach you things they know.

“Mommy has a treat for you!”

It was the best day ever for you as you felt happy to spending time with your mom.

Maybe it won’t be bad to be homeschooled

VAGGIE

You got bullied for the same reason.

Having two awesome gay moms. Of course you told your mom straight up as she nodded scheduling to meet the kid’s parents. She’s not backing down like a pussy cause she wants to know why they want to bully her kid.

After the little conference filled of yelling and berating to the point vaggie thrown a pocket knife pass a person (pilot reference) she left picking you off fuming with steam.

Of course Charlie calmed her down and suggested you either get homeschooled or find a better school. Which VAGGIE will agree either way with one of them.

“Let’s go home kiddo. Your momma is making your favorite…”

“YAYY!”

ANGEL DUST

He obviously didn’t know what to do.

You got bullied by your peers as one of the older kids figured out that your father is an adult actor. I mean damn. You fought back saying that you didn’t care and he stilled loved you.

But then your ass got cracked and you had to tell your father

Angel dust just takes you out of school and let’s Charlie teach you things so he can figure out how to make you feel safe at another school of such

“DONT worry kid. I’ll figure a way for me to a shame to you.

“But you aren’t! I love you papa!”

HUSK

You’re getting bullied?

Bet.

Literally he isn’t gonna do shit, he is just gonna go to that school obverse and single them out for bullying his child. He doesn’t give a shit if it’s a kid as well.

He might as well be the kinda of dad that lets you fight your own battles. But he can’t let you just come home crying about how shitty your school is.

“Wanna chill with your old man?”

“Sure pops…”

PENTIOUS

Sir Pentious was bringing you cookies like the one he made for Lucifer. He hums happily with his egg boiz behind him. He walks in your room to see one of his egg boiz, Frank patting your back while you cry softly.

“DONT worry lil boss. I think you’re amazing!” Frank says as Pentious was confused and sit the cookies down. Your snake father asked what was wrong when you told him what happened after school.

Pentious pufffs out his chest as he kisses your head and leaves the hotel to talk to Charlie about this event. Charlie have a decent answer to either talk to the kids parents or homecschool at least. But Pentious felt like that wasn’t enough.

So he bombed their houses with his egg boiz as he came back to the hotel to see Frank and you eating snacks Charlie and vaggie made you to feel better. Your snake father slithered next to you and pats your head.

“Now they shall never bother you again!” *evil laughter*

[worldsaparted]

stolen glances - daniel larusso

IN THE MIDDLE of the school hallways, Y/N found herself staring out at Daniel Larusso who was always entwined in something, or with someone.

The only times she had ever really spoken to Daniel were the times she would drop off treats with Mr. Miyagi for his help fixing her car. Since those have ended, she hadn’t seen Daniel anywhere other than school.

So she took advantage of it, everyday that he ran down that hallway, or greeted his friends, she watched. Discreetly, of course. She enjoyed seeing if he’d wear his shades or not, if he had a new black eye, and what his hair would look like.

As for Daniel, he never really took much notice to it. Not until Ali Mills, his good friend, pointed it out to him. “You oughta ask that girl out the way she’s been looking at you.” She laughed, sharing looks with the rest of her friends as they saw her swiftly walk by, clinging on to her books and fixing her hair that fell perfectly onto her shoulders.

“Who, L/N?” Daniel inquired, looking up from his shirt that he fixed to Y/N. Ali and the rest of the group nodded eagerly and watched as Daniel shook his head.

“Nah, she’s got her own thing going on.” And he was right, other than school, of community service - she was completely to herself.

So for weeks, it went on. Y/N slowly gave up on this childlike crush she held on Larusso, and as the end of their senior year came, the thought of him was almost completely out of her mind. She minded her own, and on this particular Friday, she continued doing that.

She held her binder in hand as she pushed the doors to the outside swiftly, passing up many people who spoke to their friends. It was often that Johnny Lawrence would berate her in first period for being such a school-obsessed girl, but she didn’t care, and never did. She took her homework out at lunch, to a spot under a tree and worked on it.

Out here, it was a lot more quiet, and that was just how she liked it.

Her nose was stuck in her science book, and her hand had been carefully moving to perfect her one pager for that class until a soccer ball had hit her notebook, knocking her books and pencil out of her hand. “Are you serious?” She sighed, gathering her belongings and cleaning up before taking the soccer ball, and standing up to return it. She made her way over, and looking up, she noticed that Daniel Larusso was making his way over to meet her in the middle. And he did.

“Hey..” he paused a bit as his eyes met hers, and it was quiet for a bit before she handed over the soccer ball. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.”

His eyes searched hers as he held the soccer ball, tossing it from one hand to another and now - he took notice to the pretty specks upon her face, he knew she was a striking girl, but now that he was so close, it seemed as if the fact that she’d never give him such a chance left his mind.

“Well..” Y/N gestured to the soccer ball, and watched as he tossed it aside and back to his friends, a small welcoming smile overcoming his lips.

Y/N’s brows furrowed and she noticed as Daniel stuffed his hands into his pocket instinctively. “There’s an end the school year party tonight, you get invited?” As the question left his mouth, he knew it was stupid of him to ask. Y/N shook her head, and as much as she wanted to walk away - there was no chance she would.

“Well…” Another staring contest.

Daniel blinked his eyes after a few seconds, and he continued his sentence. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“Excuse me?” Y/N held back a laugh of disbelief, and Daniel nodded, insistently.

“Yeah, how ‘bout it?” There was a small pause, Y/N glanced back to her homework, and eventually turned back to Daniel.

“Hm, alright.” She sheepishly agreed, and another smile creeped onto Daniel’s face, and he clapped in triumph.

“Alright? Alright!” His hand touched her shoulder as his friends called him back, yelling his name. “Hey, I’ll get you around 7, sound good to you?”

“It does.” Y/N nodded, and with that he ran off.

Later that night, the two adolescents had both remembered that Daniel never even took her address down so at 7:20, he still wasn’t there. The girl began removing her makeup, a slight frown on her face the whole time until there was various knocks at the door, aggressive knocks at that.

She answered it, and there Daniel was. Panting, and holding up a paper with her address on it. “Asked Miyagi.”

After the short drive, they made it to the party. Daniel immediately put his hand on Y/N’s back and led her to the back. There was no doubt that people took these things serious, some were shotgunning their drinks, or chugging it to see who could finish the fastest. There were people in the corner of the house making out, people going upstairs and Daniel awkwardly gulped at the sight of that.

The two were only inside for so long, it was loud, humid, and extremely obnoxious. They sat on the stairs and as the music blared into their ears, Y/N leaned over, yelling into Daniel’s ear.

“Think I’m gonna go inside.” She began to prop herself up.

“I’ll come withya!” He yelled back, taking her hand and the two snuck to the back, shutting the door behind them and finally finding some peace. They sat on the edge of the pool, Y/N was criss crossed, and Daniel’s feet were in the pool.

“Sorry about this. Not an ideal place to get to know you.”

It was quiet between the two, Daniel apologized and Y/N hummed in response, but that was all for a while. That was all until he hesitantly laughed, “You know what’s funny..”

“Hm?”

“My pals told me I should ask you out.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N furrowed her brows, looking over and Daniel’s eyes immediately widened.

“Woah! No! That’s not why I’m here.”

“I just - I couldn’t when they said to. Even though I definitely caught you staring a few times…” He glanced over at Y/N, watching as her cheeks burned, and she fixed her vision on the pool water. “I just didn’t believe you wanted anything to do with me.”

“Listen, Daniel - ”

“ - I was right to think so. Look at the stuff I’m bringing you to, and you probably just hate these.”

“You’re all about your future and I couldn’t even think of mine.” He scoffed, staring out at the pool.

“Will you be quiet?” Y/N spoke up, her voice raising a bit and she bit her lip, rolling her eyes a bit before speaking up. “I’ve been all about you since you got here, so whatever you’re thinking, just don’t.”

After that, silence overcame the two. Daniel’s expression of worry turned into a faint expression of excitement, and Y/N scolded herself quietly for confessing so easily.

“You what?” Daniel asked, pointing to his ear.

“You heard me, Larusso.”

“Not too well.” He sighed, and Y/N smiled a bit, watching him do the same as he looked up at her. His fairly sparkly brown eyes met hers, and suddenly, everything else around them ceased to exist. Daniel’s smile faded a bit, he nervously took her hand in his, and he leaned in. Slowly, he leaned in. His eyes searched hers constantly to make sure she was alright with this, and when their lips neared, he slightly stopped, and was greatly taken aback when Y/N had eagerly closed the gap. She pressed her parted lips against his closed ones, and leaned into the kiss.

Daniel took his hand to her knee, and the other to the back of her head to hold her there. Gently, he kissed her, and when they slowly pulled away, there were no words exchanged. None but timid laughs as they shared warm smiles.

[blacklegsanjiii]

Was rewatching Drum Island, and thought of a what if Sanji was somehow raised by Dr. Kureha.

Of course, this would mean Sanji knew Chopper before their in canon meeting, so Chooper would be his little brother.

WAIT WAIT THAT IS SO CUTE???

Kureha finds this random starving eight year old and is raising him on this winter island where the king is trying to get rid of all the doctors. Sanji is terrified of her because she's not nice, not in the beginning. He's always cold and reading her few cook books over and over again. She is explaining that food is vital to medicine and healing so they start focusing on nutrition and diets on top of everything else. Sanji also has small and nimble fingers so he's a pro at suturing. They know Hilruck and his quackeries that he does, so when he gets a student that's a reindeer of all things they shrug it off. Sounds like him.

Kureha also has to know. She reads the news and sees what's going on. She brings it up to Sanji and says she knows what he is at some point but then shrugs and says his father's an idiot. He's smart, he quick, if Judge thinks him a failure for not being a weapon he missed on all the practical things Sanji can do. He's a great nurse and knows everything there is to know, on Drum Island at least, there is to know about nutrition and feeding people. She only talks to him about it once and they don't speak of it again. He trains against the soldiers who try to come after him and Doctorine.

Sanji is sixteen when the deer comes to live with him. He's taking care of his wounds as after Hilruk left him in their care to teach him medicine. They work well as a team and it's great, he's got a little brother who is a fuzzy little reindeer who is so warm. They curl up together more often than not because Kureha isn't exactly touchy feely. After what happened with the mushroom and Hilruk, Chopper's not exactly keen on being alone, not after his herd too. So Sanji holds him.

He's down in the village getting some supplies when he meets the Strawhat crew looking for a doctor and Dalton asks Sanji to take them to Kureha which he agrees to, he still kicks Nami and Luffy out of the way of an avalanche and is carried up by Luffy. They take care of Nami and Luffy before him and he gets a stern lecture from both of them as he gets. He shrugs as he gets up to start cooking and Chopper starts berating him that they did put a metal plate in his back and he needs to take it easy despite his super healing and Sanji laughs as he heads to the kitchen and starts cooking until he hears that rubber lunatic start chasing Chopper and yelling about meat. Chopper runs into the kitchen with tears streaming down his face and hides behind Sanji as Luffy chases in after him and Sanji kicks him away. Sanji manages to get Luffy to calm down a little bit as to not torment his little brother and so Sanji can keep cooking. Chopper tells Sanji to take it easy again or he'll get Doctorine to tie him down. Sanji joking threatens to let the idiot eat him.

Suddenly he has Chopper wailing and crying and begging him not let the idiot eat him, he's just worried, Sanji, he doesn't wanna die~. Sanji laughs and promises he will not let the idiot eat him but he does have to cook so he puts Chopper on his shoulders to be out of his way and safe from Luffy. They eat and then take food to Nami and Doctorine and they're all relieved to see her awake and the antibiotic worked. Sanji makes sure the food is appropriate for a pirate, especially one that's been sick recently. Then Wapol shows up and tries to take the flag that means so much to Chopper.

So they fight and win and yeah, Hilruk wasn't exactly lying. It was a good mirage as they're running to the ship. Sanji had always dreamed of finding the All Blue and he wasn't going to leave his little brother alone with a guy who tried to eat him earlier and his crew and they most likely need someone who will know how to take care of their diets for their travels. He meets the rest of the crew with his little brother and a literal princess. Pirates man.

Also he and Chopper make an excellent team in caring for their new crew. Chopper likes the green haired guy who seems to have a bone to pick with him. He doesn't get it but if Chopper's happy he won't exactly interfere. Zoro seems to lord it over him but Sanji shrugs it off because Chopper having someone who likes him is more important than whatever rivalry they have going on. If Chopper is trying to set him and the swordsman up Sanji is going to toss the little deer to Luffy for a day. Watch him.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

it's finally here! one month late, and a couple thousand words more than i thought it'd be! happy leap yeap!

Here's my entry for Lex's (@thefreakandthehair) Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge! I had dialogue prompt #22 "Guess we’re the only two without dates, huh?”

pairing: steddie | word count: 10,446 | rated: E | on AO3: hey you really turn me on

Why in the hell did he agree to this? It’s 20 fuckin’ degrees out and he’s outside?? In the snow?? Voluntarily?

If the boys could see him now.. “Who are you and what’ve you done with Eddie?”, “Since when do you do shit outside?”, “All this for Steve fuckin’ Harrington…”.

And that’s the rub, it is because of Steve. Hopeless crush aside, Steve is the reason he’s there. Why they’re all there in the first place.

When Steve got the call, Eddie and the other older teens of their world-saving group were just hanging out; movies, beer, snacks, a little weed, music playing low…all in all, a great kick-back. 

Then the phone rang.

It was relatively late too, 10 maybe?

Steve went to answer it of course, the conversation muffled through the living room and kitchen walls, but after a minute or so he came back. The long phone line stretched across the hall back to the hook in the kitchen.

“When is this again?” Steve says into the receiver, waving towards the sound system. Robin had scrambled up immediately, nearly falling back on her face to turn the volume down.

“Uh huh. And you and Dad won’t be there? Mm hmm.” he nods.

Eddie looked over to Robin first, eyebrow raised. She only shrugged, as does Nancy when he turned the look to her.

“And how many rooms?” Whatever the answer is causes Steve’s brows to shoot up. “Wow, okay, yeah we–” 

Eddie was closest to him, previously starfished out on the carpet, but had sat up and leaned back on his palms when Steve returned, so he could just barely hear the sound of another voice on the other end of the line.

“Yeah of course, that’d be great, we definitely will. Thanks Mom.”

Steve had sounded actually…happy to be talking to his mom. And here Eddie thought the Harringtons were objectively the worst.

“No, they’re going to love it, Mom, I promise.” another pause, “Nope. They’ll all be on their best behavior.” Steve glances down at Eddie, “We all will be.”

He scoffs up at Steve from his spot on the floor. Rude.

Steve only waves him off with a smile, “Yeah, the usual.” he says, “Rob, Nance, Jon, Jon’s friend Argyle–yeah, he’s the one from California, and Eddie.” Steve’s eyes flash down to Eddie again and his stomach twists sharply. Aw fuck, here it comes; the scolding, the yelling, the berating about how Eddie’s no good for him to be associating with, why are you stooping to his level, he’s a murderer, yadda yadda yadda.

“Yeah, he and Wayne are doin’ much better now, I’ll have to tell you about it next time, okay?” 

Uh.

What?

“Yeah, that’d be great if you don’t mind! Yep, Wheeler, Henderson, Sinclair,” He looks again at the other people in the room, they’re still just as puzzled as he is. What do the kids have to do with this? “I’ll talk to Hopper and Joyce, and I’m sure Ms. Mayfield would let Max go. Oh absolutely,”

Steve starts back into the kitchen, and Eddie can hear him all the way back to the hook. “No–Nope, it’s fine, I actually have a couple people over right now so I want to–yeah. Yep. Okay, love you too. Bye mom.”

Eddie looks around at the others; Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, even Argyle, though he’s not looking around wide-eyed at what all just occurred like the others are.

Steve comes back into the living room. “So…” he lets out a long breath, “How do you all feel about skiing?”

-x-X-x-

So yeah. Here they all are, at some ski resort up in Michigan. Boyd Mountain…or Bowie? Something with a ‘B’.

Turns out, Steve’s parents had a four-room cabin rental set aside as a perk for some deal they were trying to barter. It fell through though, and they wouldn’t be back from Colorado themselves until after the reservation would’ve expired so they offered it to Steve and whoever he’d like to invite.

They took care of everything too; got lift passes, boot and ski rentals set aside for each of them, even sent a whole ass passenger van to be dropped off in the Harrington driveway for them to make the drive; A huge 15 passenger one that even with the three extra seats, still barely held all their crap for the long weekend.

All of them piled into the van in the dark on a Friday morning, sleepy-faced and crusty-eyed; Robin as Steve’s co-pilot, and each of the rest of the older teens and the party piling in wherever they could (they’d fight about their seats when they woke up more, Eddie was sure of it).

The first rest stop on the way up went by without incident, but by time they stopped for late breakfast/early lunch at another, everyone was stir crazy. Sandwiches were passed out, gas was gotten, bathroom breaks were taken, and almost as soon as they got back in the van, Robin was snoring.

“Damnit, if I knew she was gonna tank like that I would’ve had someone else sit up here.” Steve had groused. 

“I’ve gotcha big guy, I won’t let you fall asleep.” Eddie said, now seated next to Dustin and El on the first bench behind the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, me either.” Dustin agreed.

He was snoring an hour later, El leaning into him for her own nap.

“That’s cute.” Was the first thing Robin said after waking back up.

All in all, not a bad drive. The worst part was tramping through the snow to the cabin after they’d arrived.

“Goddammit Steve, How am I supposed to get through this week in only my jeans?”

Steve sighs, “Eddie, you have made the same argument ever since my mom called; and every time you did, I told you everything would be here for you.”

He finally gets the door open, shoving it wide for them all and gesturing them in, “Get comfy guys, I’m going to grab the cooler with our groceries.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Jonathan says, following Steve back out to the van.

The large open main floor has a full kitchen with a raised bar counter and four stools, tall peaked ceilings, a fireplace on one wall with two couches and a rocking chair situated around it, and a sliding glass door to a balcony off the back side of the building overlooking the trees below.

There’s stairs too, a set going up and a set going down, and at least one bathroom here on this floor, off the kitchen.

Eddie wanders into the living room, picks out some pieces of kindling from the bucket on the stone beside the fireplace and a couple logs from the stack nearby, and busies himself with starting the fire while the party pokes around the place.

He glances over his shoulder when he hears the fake leather of the couch cushions squeak together, only to see Argyle has perched himself on the backrest, squashing a cushion beneath his feet.

The fire takes less than no time at all, and once it’s going and he’s re-situated the trifold metal screen back in front of the fire, he sits down beside Argyle’s shins and is immediately entranced by the flames.

Steve and Jonathan return not long after, lugging their things with the cooler hanging between them.

“So how do y’guys want to split up the rooms?” Robin asks aloud, ignoring the yelling the other teens are already doing about the same thing.

“I’m not picky.” Eddie shrugs, standing up to stretch again, deciding he really did not want to be sitting anymore.

“Me either sister, whatever you decide is cool with me.” Argyle agrees. “What’re the rooms like?”

“There’s a master up here!” Max calls from above them, looming over the log railing at the top of the stairs with El.

“We walked right past it, but there’s a room with a queen off the front hall there,” Jonathan says, shuffling his bag against the kitchen bar.

“Hey! Assholes!” Steve yells down the steps, the boys must’ve gone down there. “Go get your shit out of the van and we’ll head over to the main lodge!”

The four thunder up the steps, how any of them can understand any other over the other is beyond him.

“Will,” Nancy calls as he rounds the stairs last, “There are bedrooms down there?”

“Yep!” he grins, “Two rooms with queen beds, and a bathroom.”

“I don’t mind taking one of the queens,” Nancy says, “Robin, wanna share with me?”

Robin starts to splutter, still somehow not convinced that Nancy’s got a thing for her. It’s obvious to him, but he and Steve have both tried to tell her this. To no avail. Even after Jonathan and her had confirmed they’d split and that he was moving back to California with Argyle come spring.

Steve rescues Robin from her spluttering. “It’s only fair that Argyle gets next dibs, since he’s the one that’s offered to cook for us.” he says, lugging the cooler over to the kitchen to unload it.

He’d insisted on picking up groceries for their stay, saying “There’s a restaurant, sure, but that’d get expensive quick and we’ll have a full kitchen so why not?”

“Appreciated my man; y’wanna bunk with me, Jonny?”

Eddie follows Steve, leaning on the bar across from the fridge from him, “So where’s all my snow gear, Stevie?” he asks the back of Steve’s head.

“Eddie, I swear to God.” Steve huffs in return, bending down into the cooler at his feet to fish out a couple of cartons of eggs.

Eddie does not watch how the denim of Steve’s jeans pulls tighter over any part of him, thank you very much.

“Mom called ahead and has everything we might need set aside in the main lodge, we’ll go there first before we hit the slopes.”

“Oh my god, did you really just say that?” Eddie asks as Steve stashes away two jars of jelly, one strawberry, one grape.

“Say what?” Bacon and some packs of lunch meat are next.

“Like, that’s an actual thing that people say? It’s not just in the movies?”

Steve sighs, finishing off the groceries with a couple 12 packs of pop stashed on the bottom shelf. “What is just like the movies?”

“‘Hit the slopes.’? Really?”

“You’re super annoying, you know that, right?” he says, closing the fridge and pushing the lid back onto their cooler.

“Awe, c’mon baby, you don’t mean that.” Eddie coos, slipping around the counter to cup Steve’s face in his hands, “What happened to the man who loves me for my antics, huh?”

“Get off me, dude,” Steve laughs, batting Eddie’s hands away, his cheeks tinged pink.

‘Yes! Success!’ When did he decide he was trying to fluster Steve? Eh, whatever. No harm, right?

 “So, did you guys figure out the sleeping situation?” Steve asks the rest of the group, walking back around the bar.

Eddie follows, leaning back on the counter in his previously vacated spot.

Nancy nods, “Jon and Argyle will take the room on the main floor, us girls will take the two downstairs, you can take the master, and the boys will take the couches.”

The boys return with their bags then, and Mike immediately starts complaining about being relegated to the fold-outs. Eddie also hears Dustin and Lucas trying to talk him down, saying things like “Dude, that means we’ll be close to the fire!”, “We can throw things in it!,” and “We can make s’mores!”.

Steve doesn’t seem to hear them though, otherwise he’d be shutting that shit down. Instead, his face only scrunches in confusion, “What about Eddie?”

Nancy looks surprised for a blink, then disgruntled, like she’s pissed she forgot someone.

“I’ll just crash out here on the floor with these losers, no worries.” he shrugs.

Steve turns toward his voice, a deep crease between his brows. “That’s not fair.”

“I promise I’ll survive Stevie,” Eddie chuckles. At least he’ll be the warmest out here in front of the fireplace. “I’ve slept on worse, believe it or not, I’ll be sleeping like a king compared to then.”

Steve’s brows scrunch almost all the way together, then spring apart and settle into determined lines. “You’ll sleep with me.” he says with a nod, his arms folding across his chest.

A beat passes.

Eddie can’t resist.

He leans close to Steve’s side, “A bit presumptuous, Stevie darling,”

Steve’s face practically glows with the flush that appears in the next beat, mumbling something to himself as he walks to the door and starts to pull on his coat and boots.

Eddie pushes off the counter and follows, obnoxiously holding a hand up to one ear. “What’s that, sweetheart?” he teases, walking to his own tossed-aside boots, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“We going to the lodge now?” he hears Lucas ask as he passes.

“Finally.” Mike adds, unhelpfully.

Steve huffs, standing up again and leaning close to Eddie’s cupped hand, “As if you hadn’t thought about it, darling.”

Four of the other ten are in their coats and boots and out the door after Steve before Eddie comes back online.

-x-X-x-

So here he is: outside. In the snow. With skis strapped to his feet. All because of Steve and his surprisingly generous parents.

He watches, amused, as Robin stands as still as she possibly can, arms spread wide, while Nancy helps strap her into her skis. As soon as the skis had gotten remotely close to being attached to her, it was discovered that no matter what section of ground they may be standing on, Robin would start to drift away. Sliding down some sort of unseen incline backwards, frontwards, and/or sideways.

Jon and Argyle are already almost to the closest lift, and Eddie watches as they do a weird half-jump onto the bench as it comes up behind them.

The gremlins had scattered after Steve’s ‘be careful’ lecture, telling them all when to be back to the van by, or back to the cabin if they will be coming off the slopes near there, telling them all to be safe and to keep to pairs or more so they can be radioed.

They’d all brought their walkies with them, and Eddie can see where the boys are still huddled together, swapping out their batteries.

He watches them split off soon after, Dustin and Lucas pushing off to where Max and El are waiting at the standing lift to the top of the training hill.

Mike and Will scoot off together in the opposite direction, toward the centermost lift a few dozen yards away.

“Guess we’re the only two without dates, huh?” He says as Steve slides to a stop on his own skis beside him.

He’d meant it jokingly, was probably going to follow it up with some jabs about being Steve’s wingman if he needed (there were already a few ladies he’d seen giving Steve some looks while they waited for their gear in the main lodge), but Steve shrugs and says: “I’ll be your date this weekend, Eds. Wouldn’t want you to feel left out or anything.” 

Eddie whips his head around to look at him, “That’s not–” he starts, but cuts himself off at the look Steve is giving him. His goggles have been haphazardly pushed up his face, trapping a few loose locks of Steve’s hair between them and the roll of his beanie, his cheeks are already bitten red with the cold, and he’s smiling so painfully sincerely under that damn teasing smirk that all Eddie can do is acquiesce.

“You better be the best date here then, Stevie,” Eddie chides, starting off toward the lift Jonathan and Argyle had disappeared up, “I won’t settle for anyone other than the bes–” he pitches forward suddenly, one of his skis sticking to the snow under it more than it should’ve.

Steve catches him, of course, and says “Will I get points taken off as ‘Best Date Ever’ if I make you go on the training hill?”

They do go to the training hill, lovingly called the Bunny Hopper, but he and Robin are thankfully saved from the embarrassment of actually being taught by the volunteers there; Steve and Nancy taking them to the slightly taller ‘big kid’ hill and teaching them there.

Surprising even himself, Eddie picks up on the motions and the feeling of being on skis easily. The whole ‘pizza’ thing about stopping was still iffy but the rest is no problem. Fun, actually.

“That was great, man! You’re a natural!” Steve beams at him, his grin lopsided from the meat of his cheeks being squashed under his goggles.

“I just had a great teacher,” he brushes off the compliment, elbowing Steve playfully.

Steve somehow grins even bigger, and Eddie’s heart stammers.

“You ready to go to the real hill now?” “This isn’t a real hill?”

He’s positive Steve just rolled his eyes under his goggles. “C’mon smartass, let's get in line for the lift.”

Eddie bows him forward, “After you, sweetheart.” 

He follows Steve to the end of the line; thankfully it’s not too long, now that it’s late afternoon and will be getting dark soon. 

Steve seems to notice this as well, lifting his goggles off his face again. “We’ll have to call the gremlins back sooner than I thought. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Stop reading my mind, Stevie.”

Steve looks over at him, squinting hard and pursing his lips (Eddie’s stupid lizard brain has a split second thought of those lips pursed around something). “Ugh! Ew, gross Eddie, what would make you think about that?!”

He feels his face blanche and scrambles to recover. “I was only thinking about our good friend Robin, Steve-o, you saying Robin is gross?” He pitches his voice higher and glances down the line to where he can see Robin and Nancy.

Robin flips her mitten up at him, and he can infer the gesture just fine, thanks.

“Shut up, asshole.” Steve laughs, pushing him out of the line on his skis.

They’re the next to hop up on the moving bench, and Steve’s…everything…seems to seize up as soon as they’re seated and on their way.

“Could you imagine?”

“Hm?” He’s still looking down anxiously, so Eddie scoots just a bit closer, pressing what he hopes is comfortingly into Steve’s side.

“If we could read each other's minds? If the bats biting us both somehow linked us together?”

It works a little; Steve tears his eyes away from the ground as it drops away from them, huffing out a short laugh, “I don’t think I would survive inside your head, it’d be even more chaotic than you already are.”

“As if your head would be any better.”

“Hey, my head is great!”

Eddie grins wickedly, “You get told that a lot, Stevie?”

Steve seems unphased, smirking slowly. “I do, actually. Why? You tryin’ t’see if it’s true?”

His cheeks start to prickle, “You offering, big boy?”

“Maybe I am,” Steve shrugs then leans closer, “Now the real question is if you’re gonna take me up on it.”

Eddie’s head reels in the couple seconds he takes to respond.

Where in the hell is all this coming from? Is it just part of the ‘date’ thing? There’s no fuckin’ way Steve is actually into him, is there? He’s always been flirty, just like Eddie is himself, but there’s no way there are any actual feelings behind it… So there’s no harm in playing along.

“I’m gonna have to now, aren’t I?” he grins back, “Gotta see if it lives up to the hype.”

Steve smirks, his eyes hooded. He’s good at pretending, he’ll give him that.

His eyes glance away, then back to Eddie’s face. The sultry look he’d been hamming up for his sake is gone, just an easy smile remains. At least this sudden flirting Steve’s decided to do isn’t going to ruin their surprisingly solid post-apocalyptic friendship.

“It’s almost time to get off, ready?”

Eddie looks ahead to where the couple on the bench before them are hopping off. They stand up off the lift easily and don’t end up in a heap, but he is starting to feel the anxiety Steve was feeling only minutes ago. How’s he supposed to get out of the way fast enough, isn’t there a drop? That looked way too easy.

“As I’ll ever be,” he gulps.

“Give me your hand.” Steve says, not waiting for a response and snatching up Eddie’s hand in his, “Okay, when I say so, you just gotta stand up. Ready?”

“Stand up, what do you mea—” he feels his legs lift a bit as the ground rises to coast under his skis, and it makes sense.

“Now!”

Wait, no! He wasn’t ready!

He stands just a breath after Steve, but isn’t fast enough, the lift continues up on its path and catches him again, forcing his butt back into the seat.

“Eddie, you gotta–”

He tries again at the same time Steve pulls him forward and he pitches forward, landing with an “Oof–” on top of Steve and forcing the breath from the other man’s lungs.

“Aw fuck, sorry Stevie!” He rolls off of him and out of the path of the upcoming lift chairs. “That went exactly as well as I thought it would.”

Steve wheezes out a breathless laugh, standing back up on his skis with no problem at all. Wait, how did he do that? How’s he supposed to get up with these things on his feet?

“Here,” Steve arranges his skis for him, putting one long side of each onto the snow, “Give me your poles, and push yourself up with your hands. You want to get your feet under you.”

He does as he’s told and walks his weight around on his hands to the fronts of his skis until he’s bent forward at his hips, standing straight out of the bend.

“...Huh.”

“Good job, man!” Steve grins, handing him back his poles, “Getting up on skis can be a bitch and a half; way to catch on quick.”

Eddie grins mischievously, deciding to be a little shit. “I dunno, you’d think my date would like seeing me bent over for him, huh Stevie?”

Steve just rolls his eyes, snapping his goggles back down with a smile, “C’mon, asshole, let’s get out of the way; the run to the right of the lift looked shorter on the map.”

Thankfully, the chair behind them had been empty, but the next one had a full four people on it and it was coming up fast.

“‘Sides,” He says, pushing off toward the top of the run, waiting for Eddie to scoot in next to him at the crest before leaning in and murmuring low into his ear, “I’d rather wait ‘till we’re alone to bend you over properly.”

Steve’s a good 20 feet away by time Eddie comes back to himself enough to follow.

They get about an hour and a half in on the hills, a grand total of six wipeouts under Eddie’s belt, and a couple others under Steve’s, with one successful landing off one of the jumps on the main drag to finish off the day.

“Didja see that?!” Steve yells, pulling down the balaclava he’d unceremoniously added to his getup about an hour ago.

“Hell yes Stevie!” Eddie calls, breathless, still coasting to the bottom of the slope after him. “You landed it!”

“I landed it!” 

Steve holds his arms open as Eddie once again fails to slow himself down properly, and catches him at the bottom in a crushing hug. His cheeks are flushed with adrenaline, bitten with the cold, his eyes bright in the setting sun and smile nearly as beautiful.

Damn he’s pretty.

Courteous as ever, Steve waits until Eddie’s arranged his feet the right way again before letting him go to spin the pack off his back for their assigned walkie.

Steve radios the party, and everyone is packed away in their van a scant ten minutes later. The older teens had already made it back to the cabin, letting themselves in off a run near there, so it was only the similarly flushed and excitement-filled younger teens babbling away in the back seats.

There’s overlapping stories of their own wipeouts (including one Robin took that Max swears was hilarious), Dustin insisting he saw a brown bear through the trees at one point, and all six debating whether or not they’d want to go to the main lodge for the waterpark tomorrow instead of back onto the hills.

They are still debating amongst themselves when they pull into the driveway. “Alright dorks,” Steve calls over the bickering, “Go inside and hang up your shit next to the fireplace so it can dry out.”

Eddie follows the troop into the living room and watches them pile all their outerwear together on the two hooks closest to the stone fireplace, then tear off downstairs where he heard there may have been a Nintendo stashed in one of the bedroom dressers.

Jonathan and Robin start methodically re-arranging the coats and snow pants on the hooks so they’ll dry easier, while Argyle pushes up off one of the couches to start on dinner. 

“C’mon Eds, get comfy,” Steve says, coming up beside him and gesturing to the loveseat directly across from the roaring fire. Eddie can already feel the burn of it across his frigid skin, “I gotta make sure I get you unthawed before I get you into my bed.” Steve murmurs into Eddie’s ear.

And isn’t that a whole new type of torment. They will actually be sleeping in the same bed tonight…the next three nights!

Steve turns back to the kitchen when Eddie drops cross-legged onto the sofa, and the tingling feeling in his cheeks has nothing to do with the fire.

It’s half from Steve’s scarily earnest-sounding flirting, but also about half from the look Robin is giving him while she takes the spot next to Nancy on the other couch.

“What? What’s the look for?”

Robin shrugs, picking up what must’ve been her discarded book from the end table between them (which she’s got the already read half curled backward around its spine, like a heathen), “Nothin’ at all, Eds.”

His face is burning hotter than the fire by the time Steve returns.

He passes them each a mug of cocoa, then flops down on the floor in front of Eddie’s knees. 

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Eddie asks, surprised at the nonchalance he was able to muster up. He reaches forward and tugs on a lock of Steve’s hair without even thinking about it (and ignoring the muffled giggle coming from somewhere to Robin’s left. Oh great, Nancy’s in on his torment too?).

Steve lets out a contented hum, dropping his head back to lie heavily in Eddie’s lap, “Argyle’s whipping up some burgers.”

Eddie leaves his fingers in Steve’s hair, absentmindedly pulling them through a few tangles left behind by his hat.

Steve’s head lolls around in Eddie’s lap with the motions of his fingers for a whole thirty seconds before he snaps it back up, “Oh–ugh–wait, don’t do that,” Eddie pulls his hand away immediately, an apology on his tongue, but Steve continues, standing up and saying, “I’m all gross and sweaty, man, at least let me take a shower first. Be right back.” Steve grins, and heads upstairs to the master bedroom.

Eddie blinks into the space left behind by Steve’s departure, then Nancy is standing as well; “That’s a good idea,” she says, unfolding from her spot at Robin’s side and walking around the back of the couch, “I’ll be back up soon.” She gives Robin’s shoulder a squeeze, and heads downstairs.

Not a full five seconds pass before Robin says, “So...Steve’s super into you.”

Eddie balks at her, his eyes darting around the room automatically. Jon’s helping Argyle chop up toppings for their burgers, the two of them paying less than zero attention to him or Robin, there’s a yell from downstairs followed by laughter, the sound of a shower starting from the open balcony to the upstairs bedroom..

“You can’t just say shit like that, Birdie.” he whispers, his tone harried.

“What, the truth?”

“He is not into me.”

She nods in sarcastic understanding, “Ah, so you’re into him.”

“No I’m—” she levels him with a look. He sighs, glancing around at the no one around them, “Okay fine, yes, I am super into him. But he is not into me.”

Robin shrugs, going back to her book. “You don’t have to believe me, but I think he is. And I think you should make a move.”

“Make a mo—He’s straight as fuck, Robin!”

She gives him a glance, her brow furrowing for a split second then smoothing out. “Did he tell you that?”

“He didn’t have to.” he says, sinking back against the cushions.

She doesn’t say anything else, and he goes back to staring at the fire.

“If you make a move on Steve, I’ll finally make a move on Nancy.” she says a handful of minutes later.

He processes that slowly, takes a deep breath, then shoves his hand towards her without looking over.

She takes it, giving it one hard shake.

As soon as he takes his hand back, Argyle lopes into view with a plate in his hand, “Food’s ready my dudes.” He says, sinking into the armchair closest to the glass balcony door.

Robin snaps her book shut and sets it down on the little end table between them (the cover curls back up immediately, the poor thing), standing up and heading into the kitchen. 

Eddie has just let his feet fall to the floor and has scooted to the edge of his seat to stand up himself, when Argyle yells out “Nice tits!”

“Whose tits are out?” Eddie asks, following his gaze automatically. 

Argyle goes back to his plate. “Steve’s.” 

Uh…Yeah…He can see that for himself now.

Steve is standing at the railing of the upper floor in nothing but a towel. One hand is flipping Argyle off, and the other is preoccupied with scrubbing a second towel over his damp hair.

The towel wrapped around him is slung low on his hips, and Eddie’s eyes start to roam on their own.

Steve’s stomach is solid yet soft-looking with all its faded pink scars, and it and his chest are still as hairy as Eddie remembers; strong shoulders, solid jaw, dusty lips that pull up into a smirk, all of him is so fucking perfect.

“Hurry it up, dingus, food’s ready!” Robin calls, startling Eddie out of his gawking.

His face goes hot with embarrassment, chancing another glance up to Steve and hoping he didn’t get caught…

Steve winks at him, then turns out of sight, disappearing just as his hand comes down to grab the towel twisted around him.

His face burns, and doesn’t stop burning until long after Steve returns from upstairs.

He makes up a burger for himself, and once each of them have theirs, they call the rest of the hoard upstairs. The six teens all but destroy the remaining burgers, two whole bags of chips, and would have gulped down at least one whole 12 pack of Coke if Nancy hadn’t relegated them to one can each.

Steve’s about to herd them back downstairs when El pipes up and says that they’ve decided they want to go to the waterpark in the main lodge tonight instead of tomorrow. Surprisingly, Steve agrees to drive them over there on the condition “you shitheads are careful, and are ready to go as soon as the pools close at midnight. Got it?”

“Agreed.” they say in unison, splitting off in all directions to grab their swim stuff.

“I’m surprised at you, Stevie, letting them go off on their own.”

He just shrugs, “There’s lifeguards.”

The troops are back in the living room within ten minutes, and in their boots and out the door in 12. 

Once they’re out the door, Robin goes back to her book, Jon and Argyle step out onto the balcony to smoke, and Eddie follows Nancy into the kitchen without even thinking about it, grabbing up the hand towel hanging from the oven door and placing himself to her right.

“Thanks,” she says, handing him the first wet plate from the mess of suds in the sink.

They work in silence for a few minutes, listening to the crackling of the fire, the clanging of silverware in the sink, the muffled voices of the two on the porch.

“Nancy?”

“Yeah, Eddie?”

“If I–If Ste–” he wasn’t sure how to ask this, how to even approach the topic, “Robin said—”

“He’d be lucky to have you Eddie, and you him.” She says, not looking up from the sink.

“How’d you–?”

“Robin tends to ramble when she's nervous, have you noticed?”

He stares down at her, dumbfounded. Her lips quirk into a smile. “She’s like that around me a lot, actually.”

“I’ve noticed.”

They fall back into silence again; on the last plate, she says, “Robin’s already had this conversation with Steve about me, so I only assume it’s fair that you have it with me about him.” She passes the last plate to him and pulls the drain from the water. 

“Just remember Eddie,” She pauses and turns to face him, one hip cocked over to lean on the edge of the counter. “If you’re gonna go for it..Steve loves with all of him at once. Don’t take it for granted.”

He sets the dried plate onto the rack beside the sink as she passes behind him, patting him on the shoulder as she does.

He wants to take a moment to process all that, but just his luck, Steve returns then, passing in behind him where Nancy just left to grab up a six-pack.

Steve hands one to Eddie as he leaves, “You okay, Eds?”

“I’m good, thanks Stevie.” he says, fixing his face into an easy smile.

The six of them lounge around the rest of the evening, slowly sipping on their drinks while they play cards in front of the fire, but there’s a catch: Eddie’s going absolutely insane.

Steve’s touching him everywhere. His thigh and foot are sitting comfortably under Eddie’s own thigh where it’s crossed above it, his arm is draped across the back of the couch behind Eddie’s shoulders and methodically twirling long lengths of dark hair between his fingers.

Eddie’s been doing his damndest to ignore it, and succeeds, actually, for short periods of time while they are playing Uno, but every time Steve leans back from dropping his next card on the coffee table, he casually puts his arm back where it was, and grabs up a new lock of Eddie’s hair to torture him with.

And each time he does, Robin gives him the same knowing look.

It’s. Agony.

He wants to relax, wants to scream, he wants to swing his leg over Steve’s lap and press him into the cushions with heated kisses, he wants to haul the other man upstairs and throw him onto the bed…be thrown onto the bed.

Finally, Nancy calls it, breaking their little bubble to stand into a long stretch around nine. Steve hops up off the couch after Robin to gather up all the rest of the cans, and Eddie helps Jon and Argyle pull apart the couches enough to fold out the beds for when the goblins come back.

He escapes upstairs after a short goodnight to the two, Robin and Steve are still bickering in hushed tones about something in the kitchen, and pulls out his bag. He’s fishing out a new pair of boxers when Steve finally gets upstairs, shutting the room’s double doors behind him and heading into the ensuite.

He left the door open in his wake, so Eddie grabs up the rest of his things and follows. He drops his pile of stuff onto the closed lid of the toilet and shucks his shirt unceremoniously, tossing it to the floor.

The glass door of the huge half-walled stone shower squeaks softly on its hinges when he opens it to start the water, squeaking again when it swings closed. He reaches up to a shelf above the toilet to pull down one of the provided towels, turning to hang it on the hook beside the shower.

It’s while he’s turning back to the hook that he chances a look at Steve.

Steve, frozen at the sink with his toothbrush hanging listlessly in the air and a glob of foamy toothpaste slowly drooping off his lip, is staring. 

Unabashedly.

At Eddie’s bare torso.

Eddie caught and cataloged this in the split second it took Steve to realize Eddie was staring back, but it was enough. 

The flirting had been one thing, a natural, goofy continuation of their friendship that led to their ‘date’ today, the soft touches and hair-playing had been another, something Eddie could explain away just as easily. Steve is a touchy guy once you get close to him, and had been with Eddie since they’d gotten closer after spring break.

But this?

He’s looking at him with the same wide-eyed look Eddie’d given him earlier: gobsmacked and slightly hungry.

Steve turns away quickly, spitting into the sink and mumbling something under his breath while he finishes rinsing out his mouth. 

Eddie snorts, shaking his head and finally hanging up his towel.

“Oh, what, now you’re gonna be all shy?” he grouses, twisting around to scowl at the back of Steve’s head. Steve looks over his shoulder to glare at him in return, his cheeks glowing red. “Really? The guy who was joking about bending me over only a couple hours ago? The same guy who was winking at me in nothing but a towel earlier?”

Steve flushes darker, and it irritates him to no end. “Honestly Steve?” Eddie starts, turning back to the shower and pretending to fix how his towel is hanging, “If you’re into me, just do something about it. Otherwise, just…back off, okay? I’m super into you but I can be a big boy about it because honestly, I’d rather keep you around as a friend if nothing else and—”

His rambling is cut off by the click of the bathroom door closing.

Eddie lets out a long breath, “Yeah.. that’s about what I expected.” Robin was wrong.

He takes a moment to collect himself, but just as he pops open the button on his jeans, Steve’s voice breaks through the sound of rushing water.

“Were you being serious?”

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie yelps, spinning around to face the man who’s still very much in the bathroom with him. “What the fuck, Steve?”

“Were you?” he asks, pushing off from where he’d been leaning back on the door.

“...About what?”

“About how you’re ‘super into’ me?” he grins.

Eddie crosses his arms across his chest defensively, “You don’t get to be an ass about it, Steve.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve says softly, reaching out to unfold Eddie’s arms. His fingers follow the length of them and grasp Eddie’s in his, “I wasn’t trying to be, promise; I’m just surprised is all.”

“Surprised?”

“Well yeah,” he shrugs, “The super hot metalhead you’ve been mooning after since March confesses he thinks you’re also super hot? That’s kinda hard to believe.”

He can feel Steve’s shirt brushing faintly against his stomach now. “I never said you were super hot.” he manages to say.

Steve catches his eyes, smirking at him with an obnoxious head tilt, “Didja have to?”

“Shut up..” Eddie snorts out a laugh and pushes lightly at Steve’s chest; he’s laughing too. “Okay, okay, now leave me alone so I can shower.” he says, pushing a bit harder this time. “I’ll be out soon and you can do with me what you wish.”

Steve’s leaning his weight against him, fighting going back to the bedroom, “Or…”

“Or?” Damn, he’s heavy what the fuck!

“I could, maybe, if you want..Icouldgetinwithyou.”

Eddie stops pushing.

Steve scratches at the back of his head in embarrassment, “I mean, I’ve been wanting to get you naked for months now and there’s a perfectly good reason right there, and I think it’d be nice to shower, y’know…together.. and wow, I am being super awkward, actually..so I’m just gonna…yeah.”

Steve gestures over his shoulder toward the bedroom but he doesn’t even move to turn before Eddie is pulling him back the other way.

He lets him go a couple steps away from the glass shower door, “Better get t’stripping big boy, can’t shower very well with clothes on, can you?” he winks, then faces away from Steve to finally shed his jeans (and for his own sanity).

Eddie can hear the split second it takes for Steve to start pulling off his clothes, taking another second for himself before pushing his jeans and boxers off his hips.

He had been trying to be in the shower under the spray before Steve was even out of his clothes, but one of his legs got caught, then he had to pause further to pull off the stubborn sock that decided not to come off with his jeans.

Which of course led to him nearly toppling over.

He caught himself on the wall, but not before Steve’s hands caught him around the waist too. “Careful, Eds.”

Oh fuck. Steve’s hands should not feel that good against his skin..also, dammit! He was trying to be all suave and cool by getting in under the water before Steve could see him fully, and now his bare fuckin’ ass is out for all to see…

Eddie laughs to himself.

“What?”

“Nothin’, I just thought I’d be…better? At this?”

“At what?”

“Stupid fuckin’—” Eddie finally gets his sock off, then sighs, “I dunno, being sexy, or mysterious I guess? Coy maybe?” 

“Why would you need to be any of that?”

Eddie shrugs, stepping out of Steve’s hold and into the shower and under the spray, staying faced away from the door while Steve follows.

“Are you gonna look at me?” he asks, voice devoid of anything but concern.

Taking a breath, Eddie steels himself and turns to face Steve in the large shower.

Steve’s expression is calm, open, but skews slightly into concern under Eddie’s gaze.

The long lean lines of his torso are just the same as the other two times he’s seen them, but they’re close now, and in good lighting too; Eddie can see a few other scars other than the ones from the bats, others he’s gotten over the years protecting the heard of goblins they’ve been co-parenting since last September.

He watches rogue droplets of water slough down the now-damp hairs on his arms, his legs, his chest, the ones that follow the path of darkening hairs down his stomach to his—

Steve steps closer, sharing the warm, wide spray of the shower with him.

He lifts his hand and brushes the damp hair back from the scar that marrs Eddie’s face and neck, stepping forward fully and cupping the puckered flesh in his palm when the hair settles wetly behind his shoulder

Eddie feels time stop for a brief moment. 

All of Steve is pressed into him and they line up perfectly, like they were made to share the same space. Steve’s other hand slides onto Eddie’s hip and it tugs him closer. Steve's half-hard length slots into place beside Eddie’s own, into the crevice where his crotch meets thigh.

Eddie shudders a breath at the feeling, opening his eyes to study the planes of Steve’s face and the way he is seemingly drooping forward into Eddie’s orbit. 

Steve’s smiling softly at him, the soft spray of water reflecting off their chests is misting up onto his cheek and lashes. His eyes are so much more green than he’d thought before, besides how little of the color he can see around the much larger pupil.

“Gorgeous.” Steve says, his voice is breathy and low, full of admiration, of longing…and it takes Eddie out of his reverie.

“Wha?” He says, eloquent as ever.

“You’re gorgeous, Eddie.”

Then, Steve’s lips are on his, tentative and sweet; soft, but becoming heady fast. 

The next time their lips meet, it’s punctuated with a short huff of air from Steve’s lungs when Eddie spins them, pressing Steve into the stone wall beside the shower knobs. He parts his lips to mumble out an apology, but Steve’s tongue decides to fill the space instead.

The hand Steve had on Eddie’s jaw snakes down to grab hold of his other hip and pulls him even closer, using the both of them to roll Eddie’s hips into his.

Their tongues slide languidly against the other, the fast pace they’d been building into falling off in exchange for slow, sanguine kisses instead.

Eddie lets out a shaky breath when they do part, blinking across the short distance between them at Steve’s kiss-bitten lips for only a second before letting his eyes fall shut with the exhale.

“Steve…is this—Is this real?”

Steve breathes out a shaky laugh of his own, “Why wouldn’t it be real, Eddie?” He asks, gently tracing the length of Eddie’s nose with his.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve had this exact dream before; are you sure I didn’t snap my neck during one of those falls earlier?”

The younger man laughs fully this time, and Eddie relishes in the slippery feeling of the wet skin of Steve’s stomach rippling against his own. He can’t help but grin in response to both the laughter and the funny feeling, his eyes opening without a second thought.

Steve looks like he’s floating, his face soft and dripping with a bright beaming smile..

“Do you need me to pinch you?” Steve asks, finally coming down from his brief fit of laughter.

“I don’t know if I want to find out this isn’t real.” Eddie grins in return.

One of Steve’s large hands leaves his hip then, snaking around to pinch the underside of Eddie’s asscheek.

He sucks in a short hiss of pain and lets out a soft whimper of something else (holy shit, when did that become a thing??) in the same breath.

“Okay…” he gulps down a mouthful of nothing, “Not a dream.”

“Not a dream..” Steve repeats. 

There’s a beat, two full breaths of more nothing before Steve spins them around and pushes Eddie back into the cold stone instead, his arm wrapped around him and up to cup the back of his skull protectively against the tile.

He presses a thick thigh between Eddie’s and does three things almost simultaneously.

The first, a second before the other two: He locks his heavy-lidded gaze on Eddie’s; two and three: presses the thigh between Eddie’s legs up, and pulls the hand at the back of his skull down along with a fistful of dark curls.

“Aahhh—ohhh fuck, Steve…” The sting from his scalp pulls a moan from his exposed throat, and Eddie scrambles to grab hold of something.

His nails dig into the slick skin of Steve’s back automatically, and he opens his mouth to apologize the same moment Steve latches onto his neck with a low groan of his own.

The hand not tangled in Eddie’s hair is starting to pull him down in waves against Steve’s thigh and hips, both of them hissing in pleasure with each pass of the other’s length against theirs.

“Mmmm, Eddie..” Steve moans, unlatching from the bruise he’s sure to have left on Eddie’s throat to lave his tongue and lips against his jaw instead. “Baby, you feel so good against me.”

“AAaahh—mmm..”

“Ooh, and you sound so sweet..” His lips trail down from his jaw back to the definitely sore spot on his neck, one that he prods lightly with the tip of his tongue before continuing on to nip at the taught skin of his collarbone, kiss lightly over the skin of his scarred pec, finally landing tongue first onto Eddie’s remaining nipple. 

The reaction to this is immediate; Eddie arches his chest further into Steve’s mouth. Steve, the sonofabitch he is, suctions his lips away from Eddie’s flushed skin in response.

“Hhnng—what the actual fuck, Steve?” Eddie glares best he can though the panting, “Get that mouth back over here.”

Miraculously, Steve obliges, sliding forward into a saccharine kiss and pulling Eddie away from

the wall and back under the spray of water.

“C’mon Eds, tilt your head back before the hot water runs out.”

Eddie just gapes at him, at his dick, both their dicks, still standing at attention, back up to his face.

Steve just purses his lips together as if holding back a grin and tugs Eddie’s head back by his hair again, soaking the strands through under the water.

He lets Steve turn him this way and that, reveling in the feeling of the other man’s hands in his hair, slick with soap on his skin, the gentle nudges and pulls relaxing him further into this weird world where Steve’s totally into him and also they’re naked in the shower together.

Finally, when Steve tilts his head back for the final time to rinse the conditioner out of his hair, Eddie decides to be a little shit, pushing his hips forward to clash their (still half-hard) dicks together.

“What are you—really? A sword fight?”

Eddie lets out a long cackle, “What? You knew what you were getting into with me, didn’t’cha Stevie?”

Doubt crashes into Eddie’s chest the instant the words escape his mouth.

He did, didn’t he? He likes him for his antics right? Oh fuck…How long would it take for Steve to get sick of his shit?

Despite Eddie’s near-crushing doubts, Steve smiles and says, “That I did.” easy as breathing, then pulls Eddie flush against him in another heated kiss.

Steve walks him backward after a moment, and Eddie drops his hands behind him to feel for the inevitable press of cold stone on his back, shuddering when it finally makes contact.

His gasp from the cold tile only seems to egg the other man on, hunching down to grip him around the backs of his thighs.

Eddie’s legs lock around Steve’s waist in panic, but pleasure shoots through him with the motion too, the horny thrill of being picked up so effortlessly along with the pressure of Steve’s stomach against the underside of his dick.

“Mmph—Steve holy shit,” he’s only just managed to thread the fingers on one hand into those sleek brown locks when he has to stifle down a long groan with a bite to his knuckle. “Hnngh–Steve, Steve, you gotta—oh fuck..”

The muscles of Steve’s stomach bunch under him as he grinds up in slow, torturous rolls..

“Oh, fuck—” the words spill out of his mouth, loud and long; his palm snaps up to hold them in as Steve pushes his shoulders into the tile behind him and leans back, leaving Eddie’s body balanced between strong thighs and shower wall.

The tile hits hard on the back of his skull when Steve wraps one of those hands of his around both their lengths. Eddie manages to look down, only to knock his head back again at the sight. 

Even with the added height of being on top of Steve’s thighs, their heads are exactly level, disappearing over and over again into the water-warmed skin of Steve’s fist.

Steve hunches forward again, pressing kisses into Eddie’s sternum. “Gorgeous.” 

“Steve...” he whispers in return, grinding as much as he can against the length slotted along his.

Again, too soon, Steve is pulling away, releasing his grip on them both.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, already moving to drop his legs back to the floor. 

Steve stops him, hoisting his legs back around him and lifting him off the wall. “I’m taking you up on your offer.” He says, twisting off the now-cold stream of water and carefully stepping over the lip of the doorway through the glass door.

“My offer?”

“You said that after your shower, you’d come back out here to the bedroom and I could have my way with you.”

A half whine, half moan curls out of Eddie’s throat to his utter embarrassment.

“D’ya like that idea, sweetheart?” Steve says, grinning mischievously. 

Eddie manages to scowl at him as they leave the steamy bathroom, and is dropped down onto the mattress soon after. 

“Aw shit!”

“What? What happened?”

It’s cold as shit, that’s what.” The air-cooled temperature of the covers against his skin has him breaking out in goosebumps.

Steve winces, “Sorry, I didn’t think about that.”

What was calm and collected confidence flickers off his face, and Eddie can’t have that. “Jus’ come over here and warm me up, big bo–wait,” He sits up and stops Steve when only one of his knees has made it onto the bed. “Lemme look at you.” 

He looks down at Steve, and yep. Big Boy is very accurate. He’d felt it against him already, Steve’s too-gorgeous-to-be-real dick; he’s longer for sure, cut and curved up like something out of a wet dream. 

“Oh, definitely big boy,” Eddie grins, looking up at Steve’s somewhat embarrassed expression.

“It’s nothing special.” he shrugs, his cheeks heating up as he climbs up Eddie’s damp body. He lowers himself down lay between his legs, his dick slotting itself beside Eddie’s once again.

He hunches over to kiss lightly up the scars on Eddie’s left side, lips brushing along the healed edge of the biggest one. It tickles, then it doesn’t, then does, then doesn’t, his lips pressing halfway onto skin and halfway onto puckered pink flesh.

“Steve..”

“Yeah baby?” he responds after a few more kisses.

“You’re giving me more goosebumps.” Eddie says, somewhat breathless.

Another kiss, “Mmmm.. You’re welcome.”

That shocks a laugh out of him, “You’re such a dork.”

Steve takes one of Eddie’s hands where it lays on the mattress, lacing their fingers together and pressing them back into the mattress beside his head.

“Says you.” he affirms, locking those ridiculous hazel eyes on his.

Eddie’s about to crack off another one liner, say something to…all that, but it’s completely erased from his mind when Steve ducks his head down to find his nipple again.

“Oh fuckin–nnng..” his hips buck up hard into Steve’s, who presses down into him in return.

He can feel it when Steve grins against his skin. “Shut up, asshole, that fee–ee–els so good.”

“Hmm, tell me about it, baby.” He’s grinding down slowly now, adding to the exponentially increasing Steve-addled brain fog he’s currently experiencing.

“Ahhh—I want to but–”

“But what?” Steve’s breath over the spit-slick spot on his chest sends a chill through him. 

“Oh fuck–If any of them hear us, we’re never going to hear the end of it.” he tries to warn around another stifled moan.

The Menace is undeterred, swirling his tongue around the little nub open-mouthed and hot once more before moving upwards, trailing his lips up Eddie’s breastbone until he’s sucking kisses into his throat once again. He continues up along the length of his neck until he reaches his ear, “Then you’d better keep it down, huh?”

Well that didn’t help. He lets out a long moan in response, clamping a hand over his mouth way too late.

“You sound so good though,” Steve says, continuing his slow grinding, “I can’t wait to get you alone so I can fuck you properly.”

That pulls another moan from behind Eddie’s palm. “Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie bucks his hips up as much as he can, but Steve's palms move down to hold him in place.

“Can’t have that now, can we?” Steve chides, trailing his lips down his stomach as he slides back to the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Wh–Why not?”

“Because I’d prefer,” a kiss above his belly button, “to choke,” a kiss below, “on my own accord.”, then swallows Eddie down in one go.

“Oh fffuuck—”

Steve hums in agreement around Eddie’s dick and the vibrations course up his spine to rattle around in his brain.

“Oh shit, Stevie, that feels so fuckin’ good.” He breathes, twisting his fingers into Steve’s hair.

In response, Steve starts to bob his head, swirling his tongue around Eddie’s on the upstroke, and sucking with fervor on the down.

“Steve, sweetheart–fuck–if you keep going I’m gonna—haah—”

“And what if I want you to?”

“And what if I want to to-together?”

Steve releases him with a wet pop, kissing his way back up to Eddie’s lips, humming in satisfaction when he reaches them, like kissing Eddie is the best part of all this.

And doesn’t that make his head spin.

“All you’d have to do is ask.”

Eddie pulls Steve back to his lips and bucks up into him again. “That’s me asking.”

Steve grins down at him and re-starts his slow, tortuous pace.

He’s rock hard against Eddie’s thigh, and this is getting fuckin’ ridiculous.

“Alright, you know what,” Eddie pushes his hips up hard and flips them over, straddling Steve’s thighs in no time at all.

“Holy shit—“ Steve blinks up at him in astonishment, like he’s surprised that he’s been flipped so easily.

 Eddie grinds down onto Steve, “You don’t get to tease me like that, big boy.”

“Is that so?” He chuckles, then groans when Eddie wraps his hand around their lengths. His hands grip onto Eddie’s thighs, squeezing tight to match the hold on them.

Eddie fucks forward into his fist, pulling his hand down to meet each thrust and watching as Steve’s head drops back onto the mattress.

He lets out a long groan. “Eddie…”

“Yeah, Stevie?”

Eddie runs his fingers over both their heads, adding to the slight slip of pre with a well aimed glob of spit that makes Steve hum out a short breathy moan as it makes contact with his head.

More noises of appreciation are pulled from the man under him as he rubs the pad of his thumb through the mess and under the head of Steve’s cock in small circles.

“Mmhm oh fuck..”

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm,” he nods dazedly “Keep moving though, feels so good, Eds.”

“You got it, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, wrapping his palm around them again and pushes forward into his fist.

Steve’s head drops back onto the pillow beneath him, “Just like that Eddie, fuck.” 

He gives them a few more strokes, then Steve’s hands start to move; his warm palms skirt along the wiry hair on his legs, one traveling around to grab onto Eddie’s horribly non-existent ass, and the other comes up to his remaining nipple, pinching it between two digits.

That did it. The hot coil of pleasure already broiling in his stomach twists even tighter. “Ahh—Stevie..I’m so close, Jesus Christ…”

“Me too..”

“Yeah? Well c’mon sweetheart, give it to me.”

A scant two passes of his hand later, Steve shoots hot across his stomach, and Eddie follows a half stroke later. 

He sinks down to the bed against Steve’s heaving ribs, tucking his shoulder under the other man’s arm.

After a few more breaths, Steve pulls Eddie into him and presses his lips to Eddie’s still-damp forehead.

“Ew gross, don’t do that, I’m all sweaty.”

“Don't care.” Steve mumbles softly into his hairline.

In return, Eddie wipes his soiled hand off on Steve’s stomach.

“Ew! Gross!” Steve laughs, shoving Eddie away with no actual intent behind it.

A few minutes later, Steve breaks the comfortable silence. “So,”

The word sinks heavily into Eddie’s gut. “So?”

When Steve doesn’t continue, Eddie turns his head to find Steve gazing at him with soft eyes, and even softer smile.

It morphs into a teasing smirk. “Did it live up to the hype?”

—--

One snooze and another heated shower later, Eddie crawls back into their bed and gets comfy while he listens to Steve pull his clothes back on to go down to the main lodge for the hellions.

He hears a short shuf when Steve’s leg skirts around the end of the bed. “I’ll be back in 15,” he says, kissing the damp hairs on Eddie’s temple. “Go to sleep, Eds.”

“Hmmm…” he hums in return, cozy as ever, and is out as soon as the door clicks shut.

Too soon, the sounds of the shitheads scrambling into the house interrupts his dozing, the door to the bedroom squeaking open not long after.

“Eds? You awake?”

Instead of answering, Eddie simply opens his arms.

He listens to Steve strip off his clothes, beckoning the man forward again when he feels the end of the mattress sink under the other man’s weight. 

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’, hold your horses.”

“My horses have been patient enough.” Eddie grumbles as Steve finally shuffles between the sheets and into his waiting arms.

-x-X-x-

“Dude! What the hell happened to your neck?! Did you get attacked by a vampire?”

“Henderson, you are way too loud for how early it is.”

“It’s 10 am, Eddie.”

“Exactly.” the barstool creaks as he climbs onto it, gratefully accepting the plate of eggs and bacon Argyle passes him.

“Leave him alone, guys.” Steve says, coming up behind Eddie on his stool and kissing his cheek as he passes into the kitchen with his empty plate.

There’s three whole seconds of silence before the younger teens burst out into a cacophony of various outbursts.

“Aw, what? Eddie! Steve’s way too lame for you to be dating!”

“Steve, did you fuck my DM?!”

“I fuckin’ knew it. I told you they’d get together, didn’t I? Dustin, you owe me 10 bucks.”

“I don’t owe you shit, Maxine.”

“Holy shit, congrats guys.” Lucas is his new favorite… Will and El too, nodding along to Sinclair’s assessment.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough; All those heading back to the waterpark better be ready to go in T-minus three minutes otherwise I’m leavin’ without you.” Steve calls out over the noise.

The complaints follow him out of the kitchen and into the tiny laundry room off the entryway.

“Why don’t you guys get yelled at?” Eddie grumbles, poking up a forkful of egg.

Robin snorts a laugh, “Because none of us are sleeping with the babysitter.”

okay, some notes:

steve's mom is a lawyer in this canon and she's the one who paid for eddie's legal counsel/helped with clearing his name after s4

wha?? steve harrington has good parents?? insanity

"canon" hawkins is about an hour outside of indianapolis so i used shelbyville, indiana as my base and from there to boyne mountain is about a 7 hour drive. if they left at 6 am from hawkins, they'd get to the resort around 1 or 2 and have a good couple hours to ski before it gets dark again at 6 (daylight hours in the midwest during winter are a bitch.)

i did way too much research into the ski resort i based this at, only to realize that neither the cabin itself OR the waterpark were there in the 80s. so...let's all just pretend, okay?

the map above is a trail map of the resort from 1985

when i asked my husband what i should add to 'my most recent blorbos' he said 'nice tits!' so that's why that line lmao

who'da thought this'd go from skiing to shower sex? cause i didn't

i got stuck on the smut part of this for way too long and i am so glad i am a) done with it and b) that it actually turned out relatively coherent.

on that note though, i have been looking at this damn fic for so so long that i don't know if it's actually good or what. 'cause to me, it's complete garbled garbage

the title of this is from 'Object of My Desire' by Starpoint

lex i am so sorry this is late ilysm 🫶

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my parents to get a divorce?

So, I (26M) live with my sister (19) and parents (67F and 63M) due to financial circumstances (that usamerican economy, eh?). The things described with my parents have been going on since I was in pampers.

My parents fight all the time. Over little things. In nasty, insulting the person and belittling them types of ways. Everything my mom does that my dad doesn't fully agree with or think she's doing exactly how it should be done, he yells at her for it and things become a screaming match. Sometimes my mom just stops talking, or just responds "Okay." until my dad tires himself out or gets so frustrated that he drops the argument. And she'll do similar things to him.

I've talked to them both one-on-one before about how aggressive and explosive they are during arguments. I've tried to impress upon both of them that personal insults don't make people change. Problems need cooperative solutions, where both parties are working towards the goal, whether that's dinner at a certain time or laundry at a certain frequency.

My dad justifies himself because my mom is just too difficult to deal with, and doesn't listen no matter how much he tries to tell her about an issue (his words. Not reality in my eyes, because he's never *telling* her an issue, he's *yelling* an issue at her). He's under the impression his demands for her to change are cooperative and equally-involved.

My mom doesn't tend to comment on her behavior beyond "I know. I get frustrated, but I know" or some excuse or another for my dad's behavior (her go to is "But I don't want to hurt the child in his heart anymore than his childhood has". In my eyes, not her responsibility to heal my grandma's neglectful, piss-poor parenting, especially when my dad has no interest in therapy of any kind). She doesn't think cooperation is possible with my dad, and doesn't want to start that conversation. In her words, it could end in a fight, or he just won't do his half of the work, so she might as well do the full task and save herself the frustration.

This, again, has been going on since before I could wobble on my own two feet. I don't think either are going to change. I hate seeing my mom roll over, especially because having grown up with this *I thought it was normal for a relationship to be so mean.* I had to put in a lot of work and experience a lot of difficult lessons to unlearn that. And I hate seeing my dad so frustrated to the point of blowing his fuse over mundane topics like dishes and parking spots. I worry about his health, and his happiness. I worry about both of their happinesses. I hate the pettiness. I hate the disrespect and the refusal to hear each other out.

The breaking point was today, when during an argument my dad started berating my mom over leaving the shower towels out too long. Yes, the towels were starting to ripen. But he started saying (yelling. I could hear him from upstairs, door closed) that as a mother she should know better than to let towels, especially towels that go on your face and hands and stuff, grow bacteria, and that she's disgraceful for not changing the towels daily. (Towels that, mind y'all, he ALSO could be changing daily, since one of those two towels is "his" shower towel).

I've been at the end of my rope for years. Yes one option is just beg a friend to let me rent a room off one of them and try to make ends meet, but that still leaves my sister stuck in this mess, and now stuck in it alone. I'm not keen on doing that. So. Would I be the asshole if I told my parents I think it's time to seriously consider divorce? Or hell, is there another option?

What are these acronyms?

[yeetus-feetus]

Your brother owns a house. A really nice house with lots of rooms to share. And one day his sister moves in, and he welcomes her with open arms.Though the two do not agree on everything, they respect each other and live in harmony for a time as they share the house.

but one day something changes, the sister wants to take his room and make him sleep in the loungroom instead, because she believes the room is supposed to be hers, and also she gets to keep all his things that are in the bedroom too. And she also wants to own all the other bedrooms and have all her friends live in them.

The brother does not want to move into the loungroom and let her have all his belongings, this is his bedroom and his bed. So the sister forces him out, and the brother retailites by yelling insults at her. The two siblings fight and squabble and the sister slaps him across the face, so the brother slaps her back.

The sister then cries to her parents and they get mad at the brother, tell him that he's not allowed to hit his sister even when she took everything from him and hit him first.

So the brother retreats to the loungroom. But the sister continues to harras him, controls what he eats, what he does, how he does it, where he goes and when, even gains control over all his money. And sometimes he retaliates, but it only gets him in trouble when he does, because if his sister cries then he is immediately the perpetrator and she is the victim.

Her friends sympathise with her tears and grow to hate the brother, and rumours of how he insults and hits his own sister spread until even the brother's friends start hating him.

Then one day the sister says she wants the loungroom too, she wants to own the whole house because she believes this is her house and that he needs to leave. "Well where will I go?" The brother asks, and she tells him to move in with one of the neighbours.

But the boy doesn't want to move in with the neighbours, he wants his bedroom back and he's tired of the sister always telling him what to do. So the brother makes plans to get his room and all his belongings back buy driving his sister out.

The sister finds these plans out, but she waits for the brother to make the first move so she can go crying to her parents. The parents begin harrassing and berating the boy too, being horrible and cruel to him and telling him he should just give in to his sister's wishes and leave.

But the brother doesn't want to leave. This is his house! He doesn't want to move in with the boys next door, he just wants to sleep in his own bed again. His bed.

So he attacks his sister. And sure enough, the sister runs crying to her parents, and the parents help give her weapons to use against the brother, show her how to get away with murdering this brother to finally get rid of him in the same way they have both murdered their own brothers and sisters.

So you, the third sibling, find out about this situation through your parents and they tell you your brother is hurting your sister and won't leave her house, they tell you she rightfully owns the house and he is causing trouble and planning to kill her. You are led to believe the brother is the one in the wrong here, that he poses a threat not only to your sister, but the whole family and her friend's too.

Now you, unaware of the situation before now, have three options:

1)Blindly trust your parents' word and side with them because you still believe your parents are good people, allowing yourself to be brainwashed into thinking that your brother deserves to die because you've been told made up stories of how he is a terrible, horrible person.

2) You contact your brother and ask about his side of the story, then investigate the history of the house, and make your own decision based on the facts; coming to the obvious conclusion that your brother needs desperate help and doing everything in your power to keep him alive.

3) Believe this doesn't actually affect you, you don't care and don't want to get involved, therefore taking neither side and allowing for your brother to be tortured and horrifically murdered at the hands of your sister.

[theheraldsrest]

"Companions reacting to Inquisitor jumping off the balcony at Skyhold"

(Also, Cabot is dipstick)

-LordLex

Cullen

-“MaKER NO, INQUISITOR!”

-He only noticed after the soldiers wouldn’t stop staring at something

-This is the same person who lead an attack against Corypheus, jumping off a balcony for shits and giggles

-You’ve never had anyone look at you with such parental disappointment

-If romanced, makes you promise not to do that again. And again. And again. And again. And ag-

Josephine

-“What, in your right mind, told you that that was a good idea?! Jumping off the balcony! You could have killed yourself! Not only that, you nearly gave the people in the garden a heart attack!”

-Very long rant

-By the end of it, you should feel bad (Course, that doesn’t stop you from doing it, just not when Josephine is around)

-Word does get back to her and you decide that hiding is the best option

-If romanced, people are still, to this day, talking about how Josephine Montilyet was hitting the inquisitor with a broom

Leliana

-“Just a few questions. One, why? Two, how? I’ve seen you trip on boxes and get bruises, yet falling from that height, you’re barely even winded. I think you need to teach that trick to some of our spies.”

-One of the mysteries in life that Leliana can’t solve

-Was wondering why she would hear you speaking to Dorian at one point and then in a second hear a loud thump and “Hello Solas!”

-Does get a small chuckle out of her

Vivienne

-She looks from the balcony, to you, to the ground below your feet before saying “You’re squishing the petunias, dear.”

-Makes it seem that she doesn’t care

-Doesn’t want to admit that she has done the same thing before

-Refuses to say that she did have a heart attack when she had seen you up there

Varric

-*Wheezing* “For fucks sake”

-Brief flashbacks of a certain friend who would HAS done the exact same thing

-After finding out that you are not hurt from that, Sera, Bull, and Varric all start discussing how high you could actually fall from without getting hurt

-’What a horrible idea, definitely shouldn’t do this, you could get seriously injured’ he says with a smile on his face as they look up at the tallest tree you could find in the Frostback Basin

Cole

-”Wait, you shouldn’t-! Oh, you’re ok? How?”

-He doesn’t understand anything. Why did you do that? How did you survive? How are you not even injured?

-Tries it as well, to some people’s horror

-After a quick talking to from dad Varric, he stops doing it

Solas

-”...” Completely ignores it

-Who says he’s not already used to this shit from you jumping off the balcony in the library?

-Doesn’t stop him from listening to make sure that you are safe

-He might be the reason why you’re safe

-If romanced, no matter when you do it, no matter what time of day, when you land he's standing there asking if you're ok. You tell him your fine everytime but he just wants to make sure

Cassandra

-”Do you have a death wish?!”

-Safe to say, Cassandra was not prepared to find you next to her in the short span of time it took you to run up the stairs and landed with a thump

-Left a good lump on your head for being an idiot

-Doesn’t help that she also spotted you jumping from your balcony (“I’m the Inquisitor, damn it! Don’t lock my own windows!”)

-If romanced, acts like a child and refuses to do anything with you until you promise not to do it again

The Iron Bull

-”Holy shit! Nice landing, boss!”

-Rather impressed with the fall

-Krem has to stop him before he tries it

-Eventually does it but now the Inquisitor’s choking on their laughter and they have to find someone to pry Bull’s horns out of the ground

-If romanced, whenever you spot him in the garden and call out to him, he'll drop whatever he's doing and hold his arms out to catch you, which is a better landing than landing on the hard stone

Dorian

-”Vashanta Kaffas! When it’s a few feet off the ground I’m fine with it! This?! No!” 

-He usually thinks it's pretty funny when you jump down from the balcony in the library, but this is a little too much

-It’s a little terrifying to him that no one outside batted an eye at you falling from there and landing next to Mother Giselle only to strike up conversation with her

-’Course, no one batted an eye when the magister started yelling at you, either, so there’s that

-If romanced, you try jumping again but as you fall your vision blacks out and you're suddenly back in your room. Questioning Dorian, he tells you he has no idea what you're talking about, but also says don't try it again

Sera

-”What the fucking hell was that?!”

-You’re surprised to see her berate you for doing that, but then you realize that she’s mad because you didn’t tell her and she wanted to try

-Is cackling the entire time and does the thing where someone approaches it but then backs away, only to come back to it

-When she finally does it, you find she landed in the bushes, laughing and saying “Let’s do that again!”

-If romanced, your window turns into her escape from your room if anyone comes in there, whether it be you two were having some alone time or she needs a quick way out after pulling a prank

Blackwall

- "Maker’s balls"

-If you look closely enough, you can see all life has left his eyes and is replaced with pure terror

-Calmly approaches you, puts hand on your shoulder and says for you to never do that again

-Disappointed parent noises when he sees you do it again

-If romanced, it takes a bit to convince him, but eventually agrees to jump down once. Safe to say, he landed safely but hard, saying 'he's too old for this shit'

Trying to get back into the flow of things, what with both of us working and college. Cabot should be dropping his own post next. Edited to add in romanced companions

[that-blue-vault-dweller]

That was depressing. :'( Maybe a fixer-upper? Companions react to Sole coming back? Maybe they apologize to their friends and wanna try again?

Here is some healing and a peace offering for you guys 💙💛 After that last post, I think we all needed it, lol. I hope you enjoy!

Cait - Hardly believes her eyes when F!Sole comes heading down the stairs of the Third Rail. She almost thinks that it's some twist of cruel fate and F!Sole is just back to yell at her and kick her more for something that she already berates and destroys herself for every day. But when F!Sole softly cups the side of her face, questioning softly and heartbrokenly about what had happened to Cait, the redhead launches herself out of her stupor and snatches F!Sole in one of those infamous bone-crushing hugs that she's so well-known for. Even though she is drunk off of her rear end, she knows that this is real. It feels, smells, and sounds too much like F!Sole not to be. She is blubbering all manners of apologies and explanations and anything she can think of to make F!Sole stay. It takes her a considerable amount of time to realize that F!Sole has guided them both to the back room on a couch and is carefully yet firmly explaining that Cait has nothing to be sorry for and that it is entirely F!Sole's own fault. For a while after that, she takes deep, shaking breaths as she just squeezes the woman as tightly as she can in an attempt to assure herself that she's still there with her. Eventually she falls asleep against F!Sole, finding herself the most comfortable she has been in days.

Piper - Almost can't believe the sight before her. When she answers the door, she most certainly did not expect to come face to face with the last person who wanted to see her. There was a deep regret and sadness shining in F!Sole's eyes, but before she could speak, Piper had launched herself onto her, clinging tightly and whispering constant apologies amidst lots of tears. When F!Sole wraps her arms around her, replying in that smooth, calming tone that all was forgiven and not to worry and that she should be the one apologizing instead, Piper only cries harder. She squeezes the life out of her Blue, vowing never to let her go again. In fact, she drags her into her house and forces her to just sit on the couch with her for a long time and they just hold each other until Piper calms down enough to talk.

Curie - When she sees F!Sole, she feels her heart clench and she almost cannot even move as she completely collapses into tears, and F!Sole has to head over to her and hold the poor, sniveling girl in her arms as she just cries it all out, pitifully sobbing about how sorry she is for whatever she said or did, and F!Sole just whispers comforting words, apologizing for breaking her promise and leaving Curie all alone in the world. Curie eventually gets ahold of herself well enough to control her arms again and wrap them around F!Sole's waist tightly. She is so, so thankful to have Madame back with her again, and she already feels so much safer and happier. F!Sole is crying a little, too, and Curie feels her heart squeezing again as she readjusts and holds on even tighter.

MacCready - Almost falls off of his chair when he sees her approach his house in the Capital Wasteland. She is standing there with a group of Minutemen behind her who obviously helped escort her there. She tells them something and they all take a moment to have a break. She then heads over to MacCready. He takes a look around, seeing that Duncan is playing in the yard at a safe enough distance away for the two of them to talk privately. As soon as she has stepped up on his front porch, he stands up and apologizes to her somewhat awkwardly. F!Sole explains that she is sorry instead and they spend a lot of time discussing things. He eventually introduces her to Duncan and they begin to make plans to head back to the Commonwealth together. Only two days later, they head home with Duncan in tow.

Deacon - Is very, very surprised when she approaches him when he is undercover spying on her. Those kind eyes are filled with love and care, and he is honestly not sure whether he is slightly skeptical or if he is just endlessly grateful for the fact that she is not yelling and angry still. She sits next to him and he tries to keep up the act in whatever role he has taken up. That is, until she snatches off the phony wig or hat and the sunglasses, dropping them on his lap as she looks into his eyes. He sighs deeply and apologizes for acting the way he did and upsetting her so horribly. She shakes her head, expressing that he is not the one that needs to apologize. In the end, she hugs him tightly, despite his uncomfortableness, but this time, it actually feels a lot nicer than usual. If it means she's back and won't leave again, he can suffer through as many hugs as he has to.

Codsworth - As he lives and breathes, he cannot believe that he is actually looking at F!Sole. He wastes no time in hovering over to her as fast as he can. She gently places her hands on his metal sides and steadies him as he begins to stumble over himself as quickly as he can, apologizing for his awful behavior. She just shakes her head, looking into one of his eyes and explaining that she was the one with the awful behavior. She wastes no time in hugging him the best she can considering all of his many appendages. He happily sighs and pats her back gently with a pincer. He is so relieved to have his mistress back and to finally have the one person that cares about him back into his life.

Hancock - Thinks he must be on either the best or worst trip of his life as F!Sole walks in through the door of his office, those beautiful eyes staring him down with none of the fire that they held in them when he last saw her. He raises up a bit from his place on the couch, but she comes to him, taking a hand and sweeping away all of the remainders of jet, psycho, whatever other chems he has been stuffing himself with. He immediately feels a great amount of guilt about not only the situation between them but also the fact that he has so unashamedly let himself fall apart like this. F!Sole, however, does not judge, and she simply starts to apologize for getting mad and leaving. He shakes his head and tries to apologize instead, but she stops him, insisting that it is she who should be sorry. After a moment of looking at her, he opens his arms and she happily falls into them, hugging him tightly. He just holds her for a long time, and they wait for his most recent high to disappear so he can truly converse with her for the first time in what feels like forever.

Danse - Is completely shocked when he hears her voice behind him. He carefully stands up, staring at her and he swallows hard, looking down at the ground and anywhere but her face. She comes closer to him, and he apologizes to her quickly. She shakes her head and negates his apology instead uttering her own as she stands just before him, trying to catch his gaze. Finally, she gently touches his chin and he immediately looks into her eyes. She stares at him for a long time, and he knows that she sees all of his pain, guilt, and sadness. He is not even trying to hide them at this point. However, she just shakes her head after a moment and embraces him carefully. He freezes for only a moment before slouching down to her level, allowing her to hold some of his weight as he presses his forehead to her shoulder. He just breathes her in carefully as she gently runs her fingers through his hair and reassures him quietly. He soon realizes that he is crying as a few tears slide down his cheeks silently. He just hugs her gently yet firmly, and they stand there for a long time, just hugging it out as she whispers how much he means to her and refills him with his lost sense of self-worth.

Preston - Is so thankful and shocked to see her that he almost does not know what to do. However, he quickly makes his way over to her as Minutemen are greeting their true general. He asks her if they can speak somewhere more privately. When they are alone, he proceeds to apologize for his actions and explain how inexcusable they were and how he should not have ever done it. She places a hand on his, and shakes her head, explaining how she is truly at fault. He just sighs and shakes his head before hugging her carefully. When he finally pulls away, he removes the general hat he has started wearing and he offers it to her, asking if she will be the general of the Minutemen once again. When she agrees, he feels all of the weight lifting from his chest and he feels happier than he has in weeks.

Valentine - Is just sitting in his agency when she walks through the door. As soon as she does, he drops his pen, looking at her as if she had sprouted two extra heads. She quietly asks if the seat in front of him is taken, and he gestures to it easily, encouraging her to sit. Ellie wastes no time in excusing herself to allow them to speak. After a few beats of silence, they both start to apologize at the same time. They both chuckle at that, and F!Sole explains how she is the one in the wrong. He shakes his head wordlessly, knowing the truth, and she reaches across the table, taking his hands and squeezing them before standing up and heading over to hug him. He feels all of the pieces mending themselves as he holds her in his arms, just enjoying her closeness. He will never mess this up again.

X6-88 - Is exceedingly surprised to see her as she teleports into the Institute just before he reports his failure to maintain her trust. She greets him somewhat breathlessly and apologizes to him before he has a chance to express his own regret. He blinks and stares at her before proceeding to apologize anyway despite her protests. She gently places her hands on his shoulders, and he felt something strange bubble in his stomach as she looked at him with such affection and kindness. He found that he liked this feeling much better than the one he got while thinking of that same face contorted with anger.

Dogmeat - Raises his head up, looking at the sunrise. He looks a bit harder, staring intently since he is sure he saw something moving on the horizon. Sure enough, he starts to make out the form of a person running. His ears perk up and he sniffs the air. Before she even gets to him, he smells that comforting scent. He wiggles a bit in place, but he is scared to hope. What if she gets mad at him again and yells at him some more? However, when she finally reaches the truck stop, she pauses, looking at him carefully. He wags his tail reluctantly but hopefully, not coming to her just yet. After a moment, she hesitantly and carefully approaches him, holding out her hand gently. He wants to sniff it and lick it so badly, but he waits. He does not shy away from it, though, when it gently meets the side of his head. After only a moment, she is stroking him with both hands and crying for some reason, saying the same two words over and over. She does not smell angry, and he actually smells shame and love coming off of her in waves. So he happily forgives his favorite person in the world, licking her tears away and snuggling into her grasp as he always did before.

Strong - As soon as he sees her, he starts to try to attack. However, she quickly raises her arms up in a placating gesture and apologizes repeatedly, trying to get him to listen. He pauses, but he is still angry. He finally decides not to smash her. However, he does not forgive her until she hands him a specially-modified board with razor wire, barbed wire, and nails coating the end. He then begrudgingly forgives her, and it does not take him long to return to his usual self around her.

[marshmallowprotection]

Birthday Title Screen

Saeran’s title screen underneath the cut alongside my thoughts and feelings on the matter. Under the cut simply because if you don’t want to see it, you can go and wait until it’s officially released by Cheritz in your time zone. Anyways, we know why we’re here.

It’s that time again and boy, aren’t we happy to be able to talk about it? Now, this title was advertised as Unknown so I expected Unknown. I didn’t expect my boy Suit Saeran to be on the title. The game tends to imply that Unknown is the just Suit Saeran, and vice versa, but I don’t agree with that notion but I’ve explained that one many times before but the game never confirms outright one way or the other so, you know how that goes. 

I’ll spare you that, I’ve got plenty of posts talking about that opinion for you to find if you want, lol. 

Either way, this is the first time that Suit Saeran’s gotten the pointed limelight like this. He’s usually meant to surprise the player because they may not see him in their minds as their trying to uncover the mystery and everything. But, we’ve got to say, Cheritz has thrown all spoiler fears out of the window. I mean, they just plastered Seven’s true name on a boat. 

I laughed about that but I digress, you’re here for the photo and you want to see me shriek like a banshee.

So, yeah, let’s just our obligatory scream out of the way presently. When I saw this one, I could think was: Oh my God, it’s BE2. The only reason my brain just decided BE2 was because of the framing of all the presents. In that ending, he gives you gifts, he gives you food, but “you’re not good enough to open them or touch them, toy.” He’ll give you all kinds of things but you know, you get what he wants when he decides. 

And crumbs, if you’re lucky on a good day, you know? 

That being said, it doesn’t have to be framed as BE2, but the presents and gifts just lead me to believe that this is the theme or the idea that it’s taking from to show the audience because what else am I going to be thinking when you’ve gone and thrust that idea into my face like that? Mmm, and I’ve been talking about that ending a lot lately. 

Here’s that post if you want to read more about BE2. It’s a tragic ending that is bad for both Saeran and MC. He’s trying to get you back like Humpty Dumpty but he can’t put you back together again. He realized too little, too late, that he liked you the way that Ray did, that he genuinely liked you for you. He can’t say that aloud, so he... tries cruel ways to bring you back, but it will never work and he’s doomed to despair. 

No hope for Suit Saeran if the kindness heart can be destroyed in hell. It means it’s only natural that he lose everything. 

I appreciate that he’s sticking to his goth theme, though, that party hat is just red and black.

Suit Saeran’s very... minimalist in the sense that he just picks things that are truly intense and sharp. That’s why he wears a suit. That’s because it’s the thing that he knows that can radiate power. Business men are supposed to be strong and forthcoming with their ability, that’s why he leans that way. 

His father is like that, the idea of what power and monster is feeds into how he chooses to dress himself. 

That’s why he just says, “Suit time.” If anyone was curious about that, anyway, I never seen people talk about that. Ray was given his clothes by Rika, he never got a say in how he dressed. The boys always pick something dark because it’s going to match their mood... their mood is how they pick colors and clothes if given the ability. 

That’s why GE Saeran is bright and cottagecore. It reflects the positive shift in his thoughts and perspective on the world. But, with Suit Saeran, he’s trying to emulate what he’s scared of and what he thinks that power is and this is the only way he knows how and it hurts to think about when you frame it that way, I do know that. 

Is that meant to be a stamp and playbook? Did Suit Saeran really make a whole illustrated guide for his puppet show? Is he really making acts and stories for all of this? He had to make those puppets himself. We know that Saeran is creative and can make anything, but those things are clearly handmade, hand-painted, I have a strong feeling that he made those clothes himself, too... 

You know, I like to imagine him drawing his emojis before he comes to you because he wants to make a good impression, but he’s a very specific artist and he gets angry when he can’t get things right, so I’m really thinking about him being out here in his workroom, painting fine details with a determined look in his eyes like—

“This’ll show that toy. This’ll show them how powerful I am.” 

Suit Saeran, honey, this is a gift within itself, you are a dork and I love you so much, oh my God.

TLDR; Suit Saeran makes puppets and makes their own playbook like this is going to a musical or the opera. 

He actually brought you the exact outfit. This means that he either made you that outfit, or he got himself, and then he made a smaller version. 

I like to think he’s crafty with sewing so I pretend he does things like this, but honestly, if you’ve made it this far, are you also thinking about the fact that he made a doll versions of the both of you to show you something? 

Because I can’t stop thinking about that. He really said, “Look at this, I made us, toy!” Like, I wrote a whole imagine once where MC and GE Saeran made each other plush dolls of the other person to sleep with. He just went out here and made puppets simply because he wanted to put on a show. He made y’all and I’m gonna cry what a fucking dork.

This is canon.

My God, I’m canon. 

Once again, I’m out here living my best life and nobody’s going to stop me on that front. Saeran wants to impress you and astound you so badly that he does not even realize that the handmade things that he’s making actually would be something that flatter someone. 

Like, he could use those to patronize me and berate me for control, but—

I’d really be sitting there compliment his fine eye and craftsmanship. It’s just that great. 

“Wow, Saeran. You did this all by yourself? These details are so realistic and finely tuned. This must have taken you hours... no, days, it must have taken you days to paint everything and stitch all of this together, even the little fine details are perfect. You’re amazing! When did you have the time to learn all of this?” 

He would scoff, “Of course, I am, you blubbering toy! Don’t suck up to me and think that you’re going to be treated nicely. I won’t tell you anything about me. You don’t deserve that. I didn’t do this to impress you, I did this to show you what I want from you. Now, be a good little toy, sit there, and do as I ask. I won’t repeat myself.” 

I find it interesting that he framed himself in the Savior’s seat here. Is that just a tie back to BE3, or is it simply his power play? I think it’s a comment on the fact that he struggles to know how much power that he truly has in his hands. That is to say, he says he’s the strongest, but the reality is, Rika is stronger then him and he bows his head to her. 

Even in his fantasy, she holds all of the cards and he has no choice but to bend.

But, with MC, he is trying to use them to control his idea of power... because it’s a fragile thing. It could break at any second. He screams and shouts all that he wants but he knows, deep down, he may be strong, but he’s not the strongest in this place. How could he be? That’s why Rika even says to you during those late hours—

“Mmm, you noticed? He’s using you to stabilize himself because otherwise, he would crumble. Thanks for your sacrifice to helping me win my goals. It wasn’t a pleasure knowing someone as bright as you, getting in my way and trying to turn them against me.” 

He only feels strong when something placates the idea in his chest. It hurts, even in his numb and confused heart, he’s hurting and he can’t figure out a way to get out of the dark labyrinth. Did he make the Mint Eye playhouse? Did he? I am saying he did. None of you are going to stop me. Saeran is a creative artist and I will not be contained any longer.

Cheritz confirmed. 

You’re a doll on a string in this for him. He wants to say that he bends and controls you to his whims, but... he’s also there. This isn’t just you being a toy, it’s Saeran realizing that he’s a toy, too. Why else would he make a doll of his person, then? This is about him not entirely getting it, though. He would make himself but not realize what he’s implying to know deep down, underneath all of his yelling.

When I saw him in the chair, I thought... this is him in relation to being the marionette king. That’s why they’re doing this, oh my God. It makes sense to frame the MC as a puppet or toy, they’re always “his eyes” and “his toy” and more and more and more. But, he’s also being played for a toy by Rika to get what she wants.

Who is really the puppet here?

Who is really on the strings? 

Look at that cocky bastard. Look at him. Look at him forever and deal with me screaming about him, oh my God. In conclusion, I’m having a lot of feelings at the moment presently and I think I’m going to go and lay back down because I am going to need a minute to unpack everything that I’m feeling and dealing with because Suit Saeran.

SUIT SAERAN!

[stuffthatbard]

Good Puppy

Tags: Jaskier/Yennefer, Puppy Play, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Collars, Cock Cages, Butt Plugs, Vibrators, Multiple Orgasms, Forced Orgasm, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sub Jaskier, Dom Yennefer, Humiliation, Omorashi, Watersports, Breathplay, Aftercare, Praise Kink, Spooning, Consensual Kink

Ummmm prompts sitting in my inbox? What prompts haha

--

When Yennefer first suggested it, Jaskier thought she was kidding. Pretending to be a dog? Like a kid playing make-believe? He didn’t understand how anyone could find it arousing, but the idea did intrigue him, and so he agreed to try it out.

He hadn’t expected to like it quite this much, but something about the way she treated him—loving, yes, but somehow still beneath her—got him off like a rocket.

And even beyond that, beyond the fact that a sighed “Puppy,” could have heat curling in his gut immediately, he found that he quite liked the submission of it as well—whenever they played, he didn’t have to worry about anything. He only had to be a good boy and listen to her—or, if he was bad, to take his punishment. But he was rarely bad—pleasing her earned him praise that he desperately craved.

And one day, when they’re lying together in bed, sweat cooling on their bodies, Yennefer brings up something more. “What would you say,” she muses, fingers curling round his hair, “to being my puppy all the time?”

“All the time?”

“Only at home,” she amends herself. “The rest of the world doesn’t get to see you like this. Only I do,” she purrs, tugging at a lock of his hair, sending a shiver down his spine.

He bites his lip. It’s a daunting thought, but he can’t deny that he’s interested. “What would that mean?” he asks.

“The same rules would apply—you would always wear a collar, and you wouldn’t be allowed on the furniture, and you would sleep in your crate—unless you’ve been good and I let you join me in bed,” she says.

He hesitates.

“You can say no. We can keep doing this, only playing occasionally.” She pets a hand over his hair, inadvertently reminding him exactly why it is he loves this.

“I want to,” he blurts out. “I want to try it.”

Settling into life as her puppy is much easier than Jaskier thought it would be. The only challenge is this: When Yennefer is at work, and he’s left home alone, he can’t quite settle into the mindset. He supposes he doesn’t have to, not while Yennefer isn’t here. He can’t sink fully into being her puppy, but it feels wrong not to, and so he’s caught in a sort of in-between state, with all the desires of a human being and none of the restraint to stop himself from acting on them.

He doesn’t think twice about pleasuring himself while she’s gone—she won’t be home for hours yet, after all, and he’s so horny he could cry. Surely it won’t hurt much if he rubs one out, right? He has needs, after all, and if she’s not there to help him fill them, well…

He hops up on her bed, buries his face in the sheets that have her scent on them, and starts rutting against the mattress, thoughts of silken skin and sharp nails filling his mind. He’s close, so close, on the edge of coming—whimpering and gasping—

He hears the door open.

The shock of being caught by Yennefer summons his orgasm immediately, that wicked little exhibitionist streak he’s always had rearing its head. But it’s not as satisfying, ruined by the sudden thought that she’s seen him breaking the rules.

He stares at her, breathing heavily, and she stares back. He expects yelling, he expects her to grab his collar and drag him off the bed, berate him—he expects anything except what actually happens.

“Aw, did puppy make a mess?” she coos, walking over and dragging a finger through the cum painting the sheets. He whines, face burning in embarrassment, burying his face in the sheets so he doesn’t have to look at her.

“None of that now,” she says sternly, but her fingers are gentle when they scratch behind his ear. She coaxes him to lift his head, tugging gently at his collar until he looks at her. “It’s alright, I should have known you couldn’t control yourself.”

He perks up a bit—does this mean he’s not in trouble?

He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for his punishment to come, but she doesn’t do anything that night. Is it a test? Is she leaving him waiting in anticipation, to make it all the more intense when it finally comes?

He’s almost forgotten about it by the time she comes home the next day—later than usual, and carrying a shopping bag, though from this angle, he can’t see what’s inside it. Curiosity is eating him up, but puppies can’t ask questions—and he’s determined be good for her, not wanting to remind her of his recent transgressions.

He greets her enthusiastically, nuzzling into the vee of her legs—maybe she’ll even let him apologize the way he knows best, until she’s shaking with pleasure.

She catches on immediately—of course she does. She’s a good owner, always knows what her puppy wants—though that doesn’t mean she gives it to him, of course. “Do you want to say sorry?” she asks, reaching down to pet his hair.

He whines and nods, eager to earn her forgiveness.

“Go sit on the bed,” she instructs, and he leaps to obey. He’ll show her just how good he can be, and secretly he hopes that he might be rewarded for it.

Antsy with anticipation, he fidgets in place, though he doesn’t dare get up and pace. She doesn’t make him wait long—she follows shortly after, carrying the same bag, which she sets aside. Though he’s burning with curiosity about what’s inside it—and whether it’s meant for him—his attention is pulled away by her shutting the door and beginning to strip, revealing skin that he’s itching to taste. If he had a tail, it would be wagging right now.

She climbs atop the bed and leans back against the headboard, looking every inch the regal queen despite—or maybe because of—her nudity. Her legs part, revealing a glimpse of her cunt, already starting to get wet.

As much as he wants to leap into action, kissing and licking, he’s been trained better than that. He waits until she pulls him in place with a finger hooked around his collar, nudging his head down, before he starts to lave his tongue over her.

His licks are sloppy, uncoordinated, but no lesser for his eagerness. Slick drips down his chin, mixing with drool as he salivates, relishing the taste of her sweet cunt.

After she shakes apart on his tongue once, walls clenching around nothing, she tugs him up by the collar, and he shifts his attention to her clit, licking and sucking until she’s moaning, legs trembling with another orgasm. He knows better than to stop, and returns to licking between her labia, dipping his tongue inside as she shudders.

He flutters his tongue, teeth just barely grazing her clit, and she grinds down, smothering him, though he doesn’t complain. He laps up the slick that gushes forth like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, licking her clean until, oversensitive, she pulls him away with two fingers hooked in his collar.

“Good boy,” she croons, once she catches her breath, and pulls him into a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. “Apology accepted.”

His heart soars. He’s been forgiven, and he’s been good! He whines with pleasure, nipping gently at her lips until she pushes him away and sits up.

He watches as she leans over and pulls the bag closer—he’d forgotten, and his heart drops when he sees the first item she pulls out. “Oh, don’t be like that,” she coaxes upon seeing his face. “This is to help you be a good boy. You want to be good, right?”

He whines. He does want to be good, but this—a cock cage? Forget a reward, this is perhaps the worst punishment she could give him.

Will she ever allow him to come again? And what about—he gulps—what about when he needs to piss? He trusts her with his life, but not enough to trust that she won’t delight in making him squirm.

But he doesn’t stop her when she leans forward and fits it around his cock and balls, the cold metal making him flinch back. “Stop that,” she admonishes, flicking lightly at the head of his cock, and he yelps.

It’s a painful few minutes as she waits for his erection to go down enough to fasten the cage closed and lock it, tucking the key away. “There we go,” she coos. “Now we shouldn’t have any more accidents.”

He whines again.

“And,” she continues, “I have a treat for you.” He perks up as she pulls another item out of the bag—a tail plug, and his eyes go wide in arousal when he sees it.

She laughs, but not meanly. “Turn around and present.”

He does, holding his cheeks open the way she taught him to allow better access—and because ‘it makes such a pretty sight,’ according to her.

He jumps at the first press of a slick finger at his hole, but leans back into it as she works him open, little whimpers making their way out of his mouth. The plug slides in easily, popping past the tight ring of muscle and settling right up against his prostate. The fur of the tail brushes against the inside of his sensitive thigs, and it sends him half mad with sensation.

He feels a sudden sharp sting on his ass—she’s spanked him, just to see the way he yelps and clenches around the plug, yelping again when it drives the plug further in, pressing just so against his most sensitive spot.

He forces himself to settle, consciously relaxing his muscles and giving himself some relief. Experimentally, he wiggles his lower half, the tail swinging side to side, and earns an appreciative hum from Yennefer. “Do you like that, puppy?” she purrs. “I certainly do.”

He nods, turning around and nuzzling up against her thigh. She really is good to him.

“Wait until I show you the best part,” she says, rummaging around in the bag once more. Jaskier hears a small click, and then suddenly he feels the plug start to vibrate, forcing precum to weep out of his caged cock, which is valiantly trying to get hard again despite its bonds.

His fingers scrabble against the sheets, trying in vain to find something to cling to as he rides the waves of vibrations. He whines, thrusting his hips forward into the sheets by instinct, but he can’t get any stimulation on his poor caged cock. His desperate humping is as useless as his cock is now.

He buries his face against her leg, whining still, and she takes pity, switching the vibrations off. “I’ve put you through a lot tonight, I know,” she murmurs, petting his hair. “We’ll play with that later.”

He remains frustrated and unsatisfied until he falls asleep, but he’s at least grateful to be forgiven and even allowed a place in her bed.

When he wakes up the next morning, he expects Yennefer to take the cage off. Maybe this was just a brief punishment, a test, and she’ll let him come since he’s been so good.

But she just laughs at his hopeful look—“Silly puppy. This is for your own good, remember?”—and leaves it on. And to make matters worse, he knows that she’s going to be busy all day today—she’ll be home, but most likely locked away in her office while she works.

The sole consolation is that she won’t have the time to torture him with pleasure, something she delights in doing whenever they’re home together. But she won’t be giving him any attention, either.

He dozes for a bit, whiling away the morning, until he gets too bored and goes searching for anything else to do. He would jerk off, but, well, that’s not an option anymore. He considers going to bother Yennefer, but even before thinking about it he knows it’s a bad idea. And he’s trying to be good, after all.

It’s around noon when the urge to pee gets really bad. He’s been holding it all morning, ignoring the steadily-growing urge, but it’s truly undeniable now. Hanging his head, he goes over to her office, scratching at the door to get her attention. The door doesn’t open, though. Heart clenching, he whines, knowing that she’ll be angry with him for disturbing her, but he’s desperate at this point—good boys don’t have accidents, after all, and he’s perilously close to one.

His bladder is straining, almost as if he can feel the piss sloshing around inside. After a wave of need hits him particularly hard, his hands fly down to his cock, squeezing as firmly as he can despite the cage in the way. He needs to go.

He starts to cry, tears of frustration and desperation falling down his face, hiccupping whines making their way out of his mouth. “Jaskier, stop whining. I’m busy,” Yennefer calls from the other side of the door.

So she knows he’s there, and she won’t come to help. Jaskier knows, then, with absolute certainty, that he’s going to piss himself. He’s going to piss right here, right on the floor, through his cage, and it’s going to get everywhere, and Yennefer is going to be mad, and—

He’s peeing before he can even finish the thought, hot piss hissing against the bars of the cage, dribbling onto the floor into a hot puddle, soaking his legs. The relief is great, but it’s overpowered by the intense guilt and shame of the action. He’s pissing on the floor. Like an untrained puppy.

Though his eyes are squeezed shut, he hears the door to the office open. He whines, not meeting her eyes, shoulders hunched up.

“Bad puppy,” she admonishes—the exact words he feared. “What have I told you about making a mess?”

He whines, but it’s cut off as she wraps a finger around his collar and pulls him after her. He rushes to catch up, limbs uncoordinated, weak with relief and heavy with dread. She drags him to the bathroom, has him clamber into the tub, and turns the faucet on full blast. He yelps, the water stinging his skin—at least she’s using warm water, rather than cold. It’s still not something he was expecting, and he’s left dripping but clean in the aftermath.

She towels him dry, rough but not painful, except for when she tweaks his nipples or yanks at a strand of hair or tugs at his tail. He stifles his yelps, though, not wanting to anger her more, even as she clicks her fingers at him to follow her to the bedroom.

He makes as if to jump up on the bed, but one stern glance from her has him reconsidering. Right. Only good boys are allowed on the furniture. He sits at her feet, head bowed, waiting for his punishment.

She bends down and brushes a finger under his chin, lifting until his eyes meet hers. “How can I help you learn this lesson, hm?” she asks, thumb stroking his lips. “I don’t think pain will work—you’re too eager for it,” she mocks. “But pleasure, well—my dirty little hedonist, I think I can teach you about too much of a good thing.” She leans in close, her breath mingling with his. “I’m going to make you mess your cage until you run dry.”

She switches the vibrating plug on. He sucks in a breath, hips jerking forward and almost touching her leg, but he wrestles himself back under control. Don’t make a mess, he coaches himself, his hips twitching as if to drive himself back further upon the vibrator. She laughs delightedly. “Good boy, you’re learning already.”

He whimpers, caught between the dual pain of his flesh pressed against the cage and the pleasure of her praise and the wonderful vibrations. With the plug pressed directly against his prostate, he’s rapidly barreling towards an orgasm—except his cock is kept forcefully soft, weeping through the bars and pooling on the floor. He whines upon seeing it and, without a second thought, leans down to lick up his mess.

Her hand comes down in his hair, at first caressing, but then she shoves him down, nose ground against the floor. “That’s right. Clean up the mess you’ve made,” she says, not letting him up until every drop has been licked clean.

The vibrations keep rocketing through him, assaulting his every nerve. He bites his lip, feeling an impossible orgasm approach. Even confined in a cage, he can feel it building, building, until it overtakes him in a wave, dragged out of him in a slow oozing drip. He pants, riding it through, his panting turning into a steady whine as the plug doesn’t stop.

His oversensitive nerves jump with every sensation, his fingers curling into fists, sweat beading and dripping down his skin. He risks a glance up at Yennefer, silently begging her to stop, but she just raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to be good, puppy?” she asks, and he does, he does want to be good, but it’s almost painful now, a second orgasm forcing its way through his body.

He’s right on the edge—but he still needs something to push him over, something to pull him through the wall of oversensitivity and bring him to ecstatic pleasure. He gets it in the form of her sharp nails pricking at his skull, yanking his head up, and her other hand tugging at his collar and twisting. He gasps, air cut off, hands coming to scrabble at his neck, eyes rolling back in his head—and comes like a fucking fountain, cum spurting between the bars of his cage, all the blood rushing from his head, stars filling his vision.

He slumps down, gasping in a breath as she releases his collar, her deceptively strong arms catching him before he can fall into the puddle beneath him. She lifts him up and places him in bed—like a good puppy, his hazy mind tells him—and he slowly comes back to the feeling of her scritching her nails lightly behind his ear in the way that always drives him mad with pleasure, and the sound of her murmuring praises.

“Good boy, Jaskier, you were so good for me,” she coos, and he feels her jostle the cage between his legs. His eyes shoot open and he scrambles backwards with all the urgency his lazy limbs can manage. He can’t handle anything more right now, not with his poor wrung out cock so sensitive. His safeword is on the tip of his tongue when she speaks.

“I’m taking it off, that’s all,” she promises, and he settles down, letting her unlock it and ease it gently off, noting with a whimper the dark lines the cage has gouged into his flesh. “Oh, poor thing.”

Next is the tail plug, and he knows not to jerk back from the slight tug at his stretched rim. There’s a brief flash of too-much as the widest part of the plug exits, followed by the alien feeling of his hole gaping around nothing, fluttering weakly in the plug’s wake.

“Lovely,” Yennefer praises, looking at his hole as if she’d like nothing more than to devour him. Mercifully, she leaves well enough alone, and nudges him over until she can fit on the bed next to him, pulling him into her arms. He goes with a happy sigh, glad his punishment is over and basking in her closeness. “Good boy,” she praises him one last time before sleep claims him. He really does love being her good puppy.

[femmeharringrove]

see, it's not like steve's ever been good at coping.

it's bad after starcourt, but instead of dealing with it then steve just puts everything into healing others. he comforts eleven, stays on the phone all night with lucas or dustin, helps will learn not to fear the cold, gives billy a shoulder to cry on and a place to live.

and so billy gets a front-row seat to steve's self-destruction.

he doesn't think it's his place to speak, initially, but he does worry when steve leaves early in the afternoon and comes back wasted, bruises on his throat and traces of powder on his clothes. some weekends he doesn't come home, he goes to indianapolis and shows up late sunday evening with a massive hangover and billy just gets him to eat and drink a little before getting him in bed. steve's not eating enough, he's losing weight and billy worries because this is his best friend, not even heather matches their level. and steve's done so much good for him but he doesn't know how to return the favor - not until steve barrels out of the bathroom one night shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down his face. billy takes one look inside, catches sight of two life-changing sticks, and rushes out after him.

and it's then, when he finds steve out by the quarry in a panic, that he knows how to help.

"i didn't mean to get pregnant," steve sniffles, and the moment billy crouches next to him the brunette is shuffling closer, scared and in need of comfort. and billy's still working on the physical thing, learning it's okay to be affectionate, but he doesn't hesitate to hold steve as close as he can.

"i know," he murmurs. "it's okay. we'll figure it out. you aren't doing this alone, you hear me?" and initially billy thinks he's fucked up because steve starts crying again, but when this round of sobs passes the other boy gives him a shaky smile.

"you promise?"

"cross my heart and all that shit." and that's just it. whatever steve needs, billy's got him.

steve initially doesn't want to go through with it, but decides ultimately it could be a good thing. he's thought about parenthood before, always wondered if he could be a better father than his own. this is a chance to prove it. and billy gives him all the support in the world. nobody messes with the only child of the harrington family, they can't afford the fallout, but he's always gotten dirty looks after coming out and they get worse now that he's pregnant. but billy follows him everywhere now amd anyone who gives him a look has to face the blonde's anger. and sure, he's not where he once was. he's still putting on muscle and learning to use his hands again, but half of what makes billy hargrove scary is the way he presents himself, the glare that suggests he knows people won't mess with him. and they don't, amd they don't mess with steve either for the same reason.

and when billy isn't around to do the protecting, steve's got others. joyce has kicked people out of melvad's before, for harassing a fifteen year-old steve. and five years later she still does it, voice calm and eyes steely. claudia is at every appointment he has, making sure the other nurses and doctors call him by the right name and pronouns. she's there when steve sees the baby's hand for the first time and has a breakdown because he's growing a whole person and doesn't know if he'll really be able to take care of them.

and claudia, she remembers being confused and a little judgemental when steve came out as steve, but that was before she caught him shuffling down the aisles of the library one day, small and clearly anxious about everyone he came across. thirteen year-old steve had lacked the easy confidence he sported now, and it was when she saw him that it sort of clicked. she didn't understand how someone could be a gender other than the one they were born as, but she made a point to greet him as steve any time she saw him and made an effort to accept him. now he's like the older son she never had, dustin's big brother, and when he weeps frantically over the daunting trial of parenthood she takes him by the shoulders and gives him the most serious look she can muster.

"nobody is ever ready for parenthood," she tells him, and one hand comes to wipe his tears away. "but you have exactly the heart for this job. you're going to be the best father in this whole town."

which steve doesn't agree with. the best dad in town is hopper.

hopper, who's been harassing people for harassing steve for years, but is more aggressive about it now because steve really means something to him now. sometimes, eleven calls him her brother, and hop figures, yeah, the kid could use a dad. so he makes a habit of checking up on him, and it gets more frequent now because he's also checking on billy, and with a baby on the way hopper's protectiveness is at an all-time high. nobody wants to fuck with the chief, so no one fucks with steve.

when the harringtons find out, steve's dad is livid, but it's steve's mother who keeps him from lashing out. the couple can't stand the blow to their social life and so it's off to lansing for them, a fresh start or whatever. the house stays under their name, though, and steve and billy make it theirs. the cosy master bedroom becomes steve's, billy finally decorates the guest room downstairs as his own. his mother calls sort of regularly, she's not thrilled about the situation but she's eager for a grandbaby to spoil, and steve counts that as a blessing.

of course, the party freaks out when steve announces his pregnancy. it's not like they didn't know steve could get pregnant, but they've never considered the idea that he would. eleven, max, and will are immediately thrilled, discussing baby names and wanting to pat his belly - especially el, who's never really experienced a pregnancy. mike and lucas are a little weirded out, but mike brings steve a bunch of baby books left over from holly and lucas donates his own old toys, declaring that baby harrington was going to be the coolest baby ever if he got to help look out for the little one. dustin doesn't know how to feel initially, which stresses steve out, but when someone throws a slur at steve three weeks after that dustin flips out, yells himself hoarse at the fucker, and declares himself steve and the baby's most ardent protector. the whole group has already discussed babysitting schedules and, yeah, maybe steve did cry about it, but he's pregnant and it was probably the hormones and not anything else, thank you.

robin gently berates him about sleeping with strangers out of town when she finds out, but after that she takes her position as aunt very seriously. within four weeks she buys three outfits, five stuffed animals, and a french record to help the baby learn the language.

"no such thing as too early," she says as she drops it on the dresser in steve's old room. the new nursery.

it's a labor of love, mostly by billy. woodworking is a big help with his hands so he was all too happy to make a crib himself. again, steve cried, but this time he feels it's justified. billy's put a rocking chair in too, and a record player too - "your taste in music is shit," he'd deadpanned as he brought the thing in. "someone's gotta culture the little snot." amd billy does that all the time, he's called the baby a snot, a turd, a little shit, all that jazz. but his face is softer than it's ever been and that makes steve smile every single time.

steve's labor of love starts five weeks early, much to his horror, and it hurts like a bitch. he gives birth early in the morning after a rainy night. she's a little replica of steve, down to the moles on her cheek, and he doesn't think he's ever known love until he looks at his daughter and feels the almost painful swell in his chest. he cries as he hugs her against his chest and swears on his life he'll do right by this wondrous little girl. her name is nikita - no, not after the elton john song, though later when she asks that's what he tells her, just so she can throw her head back and groan, "daaad!"

no, she's named after his grandmother. and she gets rosaline for a middle name after billy's mother. because, even if they didn't say it, it's clear billy intends to co-parent. he doesn't call it that, he just says he's helping a friend, but he's the one who changes her diaper at night and bounces her to sleep listening to metallica and teaches her to eat spaghetti.

and originally, he's the one she calls dad.

first it's baba, which steve thinks is in reference to the fact that billy bottlefeeds her, and billy thinks it's similar enough to "billy" to not be anything more than that. but she gets older and learns to say billy and steve, and still calls him baba. baba and papa. and to the outside world it makes sense, they're a little family, steve and billy ooze a chemistry anyone else can't deny. but it takes them three extra years to get with the program and become a couple.

to this day, niki claims there aren't more clueless people out than her dads when it comes to love.

[deceasedanddesist]

stuck in detention ( james potter )

this is for @ladyvesuvia’s 400 follower writing challenge! although she has 700 now :)

pairing: james potter x ravenclaw!reader

gender neutral!reader: if you see any mistakes let me know and i’ll fix it

warnings: none

notes: if you saw this when i accidentally posted it unfinished….. no you didn’t. also this is unedited and i wrote it on my phone so my grammar is going to be shit.

word count:

heres the thing;

you never actually meant to get detention, you swore to merlin himself that breaking your boyfriends ( who, conveniently, is now your ex boyfriend ) nose was a completely an accident. 

it seems as though saying your “hand slipped” didn’t really sell it to professor flitwick, and to ashton davies, who now has an undeserved vendetta against you. 

so what? in case he forgot, he was the one who cheated on you, and didn’t even seem the tiniest bit remorseful about it! but it didn't bother you, if anything, you knew it was coming. after months of him telling you how you were too intense, and making you suppress your personality because it was “too suffocating for him to be around”. you just got so sick of it, rightfully bloody so in your opinion. but because professor flitwick didn’t agree, you were stuck in detention during the first quidditch game of the year! your team, out on the pitch, without their captain, against gryffindor of all houses.

curse james potter and his stunningly good training regimen, you figured he was basking in the glory of not having to deal with you. he’s probably gloating to his team right now, and you could picture the frustratingly fit face that is going to be haunting your brain after ravenclaw looses.

its not that you are not confident in your team, because, you were very proud of their progress and you were very sure they are capable of kicking gryffindors arse. but at the end of the day, at team is like a puzzle, if one piece is missing, there is no way for it to become cohesive. and without their team captain, you really couldn’t predict the fate of your team.

thats why, you were in a pretty glum mood on your way to the library. you figured flitwick took pity on you when he gave you library duty, after all, it probably was the only thing he could see you enjoy doing for detention. not that you were always reading or something, that was the most hated stereotype among most ravenclaws. most of you guys don’t even read, but you can find a certain kind of solace in a good book that you don’t get with anything else.

walking in, you greeted madam pince with a small smile before continuing to the back where you knew a giant stack of books were waiting for you to organize.

as you made your way through the shelves, you heard a loud yelp, but when you looked back at madam pince she was just staring at you with a watchful eye.

you cautiously continued, but you speed up into a jog when a groan followed. you whipped around the corner to come face to face with james potter himself, flailing his limbs under a pile of books.

“potter?” you questioned, “you’re supposed to be on the pitch acting like an idiot, why are you doing it here?”

the boy on the floor scoffed in reply, holding his and out to you.

you stared at it awkwardly, brows furrowed.

“mind giving me a hand here, (l/n)?”

“oh!” your hand shot out to help haul his body up, you were pretty much half of his size so you didn’t know why he reached out to you.

“so, what are you in for?” he joked, but looked as if he was expecting an answer, so you gave him one.

“slept in.” you shrugged.

hey, you didn’t say you would tell him the truth!

“i find that hard to believe,” james huffed, “(y/n)(l/n), sleeping in? right before the first quidditch game of your seventh year?”

you wanted to be mad at him, but for as much of an airhead he is, the boy read you like a book. there was no way, rhyme, or reason you would be sleeping instead of going over quidditch plays or berating your team.

perhaps intense was the correct way to describe you after all, and fuck ashton davies for making you realize it after he cheated on you. you honestly wouldn’t of had a problem with it if he had decided to man up and actually break up with you before he slept with someone else.

you must have been lost in your thoughts for a minute, because james was snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“hello? earth to (y/n).”

“sorry. but enough about me,” first you lie, and if that doesn’t work ( it usually does) you evade further questioning. “how did you get in here, don’t act like i’m tougher on my team than you.”

“yeah, we’re both hard-asses.” he agrees, “i accidentally set someones hair on fire in transfiguration.”

you opened your mouth to ask, but ultimately ended up keeping it yourself, james seemed to approve.

“you don’t want to know.” you nodded, and that was that.

you began to pick up the books from the floor and place them back into the boxes that james seemed to have knocked over. they were labeled and you probably would have thought it was fairly easy at first glance, but judging by the amount of boxes and your clumsy detention partner, you estimated it would keep you for at least a few hours, if not the whole day.

after you filled the potions box with the correlating textbooks, you made your way to the designated section of the library. you started to place the books in alphabetical order by author, and just when you placed ‘advanced potion making’ by libatius borage on the shelf, it immediately flung off the shelf and straight into what would have been your face if you hadn’t moved at the last minute.

after you got over the shock of an almost broken nose ( which you found very ironic ), your head whipped around to a very shocked james at the end of the isle you were standing in.

he visibly got paler once the realization of what happened set in, but before you could confront him, he had set of into a run.

so, you did what any sensible and composed person would do, and you chased after him.

although he has longer legs, your endurance was unmatched. and this was proven when he started to slow down after five minutes, but without realizing you were right on his tail, he stopped. you sucked in a breath to brace yourself before you collided with him, and the next thing you knew the both of you were toppling to the floor.

james groaned as you rolled off of his chest and onto the floor beside him as madam pince rushed over to find out where the commotion was coming from.

“its actually surprisingly clean down here.” you noted as madam pince stared down at you and james with upmost displeasure.

she muttered something along the lines of “why did i take this job” and “i hate children” as she walked back to her desk, still shaking her head.

james waited until she was out of sight before bursting out into laughter.

““its actually surprisingly clean down here”? really?” the boy was practically crying now, a great contradiction to your pure confusion. you had never made someone laugh like this before, your friends only ever giggling out of pity at your odd observations.

when his fit was over, he cocked his head at you and made a face. albeit, you were probably looking at him weird, but who wouldn’t be. you only ever knew him as an opponent, as the two of you shared the same position in quidditch. chasers were a pertinent part of the game, and you and james potter were both the only second years accepted onto the house teams. it made you wonder if you were just imagining all of competitiveness, and now, in the midst of your very last year, just realizing it.

“what?” he looked more confused than you at this point, so you decided to let him in on your thought process.

apparently, your mouth had other plans, because what came out of it was “i punched ashton davies in the face.”

“what!” he yelled, resulting in a ‘shhhhhhh’ in reply from pince.

“thats why i’m in detention, i broke his nose.”

to your surprise, he smiled “i knew you didn’t sleep in, you wouldn’t let down your team like that.”

you scoffed, “it doesn’t matter james, i still let them down. i should have controlled my anger.”

he shook his head, “look, i don’t know much about you, but i do know you’re a reasonable person.” you sighed, so he continued, “let me rephrase: if you broke someones nose, there has to be a good reason, because theres no way you’d miss your last first game.”

“yeah, you’re right.” you said as you got up, brushing yourself off before holding out a hand to him, “he deserved it.”

another laugh from the boy behind you, “i’m sure he did.”

you smiled, checked the time, told james your time was up, and headed back to the front of the library. though, when you guys turned the corner both of you were faced with flitwick and mcgonagall, who told you that fooling around wasn’t to be tolerated and the two of you would be spending your weekend in detention to finish the job.

as you left, you found yourself in the best mood you’ve been in all year, and to your surprise, you found yourself actually some what excited for this weekend’s detention.

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solavellan (Modern AU)

Ch Rating: T

Ch WC: 2169

AO3

Chapter 7

Another day at the office. Editing, emails and the ever elusive caller that enables equal opportunities for playing phone tag. A game Solas never enjoys participating in. The morning slides by and Varric is at his desk, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Lunch?”

Solas glances up and sighs. “I’m trying to get a hold of Seeker Pentaghast. Sera said she had more info on an agent that might have a lead on Crystal Red.”

“That sounds like a lot of maybes and probablys and a whole lot of I don’t give a fuck. You’re allowed to take a break and get some lunch.”

“What if they call while I’m away?”

“They can leave a message. Now let’s get out of here before we don’t have any time at all for food.”

Solas shoves back his chair and follows Varric. “I did pack a lunch today,” he mentions.

“Save it for tomorrow then. I’m craving some street tacos and there’s a truck just up the road. I’ll buy so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I am less concerned about finances and more concerned about getting food from a truck.”

“Ah, live a little Chuckles,” Varric says as he gives Solas a whack on the back.

“If living a little, as you say, means spending two days on the toilet. Perhaps I do not wish to live a little.”

“Well come with me and grab something else. I’m sure there’s something you’d find worthy of your tastes nearby.”

A half hour later and Solas is holding a taco that’s worth the regret he’ll experience from his future self. Some chipotle mayo dribbles down his chin and he swipes it away while pulling out his phone.

He checks his messages. One from Sarya and one from Veda. He taps on the one from Veda first.

Connor went home sick. Pick me up after school today?

He checks the time and swears. How did he not realize he took such a late lunch? She needs to be picked up right now. He dials her number as he stuffs his arms into his coat.

“Veda needs to be picked up,” he tells Varric as he shoves the remainder of his taco in his mouth.

“Got you covered,” Varric replies.

He mumbles a garbled, “thanks” then takes off down the street. Solas is just a block away from his car in the parking garage when she picks up.

“Hey papae!”

“Hello. I apologize. I just now saw your text. I will be late.”

“No worries. I can always watch the band practice until you get here.”

“I will be there soon.”

“Okie doke.”

He says he loves her and hangs up. Sprints the rest of the way down the street, half choking and wishing he’d at least drank some water but makes his way to his little car without incident. He hops inside. Starts it and zooms out of the garage. He’s speeding which has him checking his rear view mirror constantly. But of course, the city has a million stop lights and he hits every red one. He gets to her school later than he ever intended.

He parks, shoving his glasses all the way up his nose, and searches for Veda at the stadium. He spots her in the bleachers, chin resting in her hands and her copper braids coming undone in the breeze. He takes the stairs to meet her two at a time.

“I am so sorry to make you wait,” he says as he wraps her in his arms.

“Seriously, papae. It’s not a problem at all.”

“But what if it had rained? Or stormed like yesterday?”

“I would’ve just stayed inside. Besides, that didn’t happen.”

He sighs, berating himself a little internally. Then he walks with her back to the car. Slides in and clicks his seatbelt in place.

“What’s this?” Veda asks.

Solas glances over at her. She has Sarya’s camera in her hands. He hadn’t even noticed it there. He calmly says, “a camera.”

“Pssh, obviously. But I don’t remember you having a camera.”

“It’s a friend’s,” he says. “We went out for lunch and they must’ve left it.”

“Oh,” she says. “How was work today?” She’s still fiddling with the camera.

“It was work,” he says. Thankfully she easily dropped the subject. “Not much was accomplished.”

She gasps. “Your friend is so pretty. You’ve never mentioned her before. New coworker?”

“No. Just a new friend I met.”

“She looks familiar—and she’s a wonderful photographer. Maybe we should have her take some pictures of us. We haven’t updated our family photos since I was ten.”

“That’s a wonderful idea Veda. However, my friend is only visiting for a short while. I’m not sure there would be enough time to squeeze some family photos in.”

“Bummer. You look so happy around her.”

“I don’t always look happy?”

“You look a different kind of happy with her. It’s nice.”

He takes her words and holds them close to her chest. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Yeah,” she says, then she unloads a multitude of stories. How one of her friends got their tooth knocked out by a basketball in gym. How she accidentally used Elvhen in her Tevene class and didn’t notice until the whole class was just staring at her.

“Did you feel embarrassed?” he asks as they pull into the garage.

“A little. But I mostly found it funny. The way the other kids looked so confused.”

“Does anyone treat you differently when you speak Elvhen?”

She shrugs. “There’s a couple of kids who say stupid things but I don’t hang around them.”

“Veda, I’m happy to speak with the administration if your having trouble with other students—“

“While I appreciate that, I can handle a couple of kids who are jerks.”

“Very well but if you ever—“

“I know.” She slings her backpack in her back then kisses his cheek. “Can I go to Varric’s house? I want to see the cats and hang out with Cole for a bit.”

“Yes, so long as you check with—“

“Already did.” She steps out of the car. “Going to drop my stuff off inside then I’ll see you later.”

“Text me when you want to leave. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. See you later, papae.”

Solas sighs. He’s glad she still talks to him and he still gets to see her but there’s also this tiny ache in his chest that misses her always being around the house. But he reminds himself that this is a good thing. It’s just new and he pulls out his phone to read his messages from Sarya.

Hey I’m going to try and stop by your work around 3:15 today.

I stopped by your work but you weren’t there. Saw Varric though! He introduced me to everyone and it was fun! I really like Sera. She’s hilarious! And Merrill was so sweet! Anyway, hopefully I’ll see you sometime soon. 😉

—

“I fold,” Sarya says, she takes a drag from her cigarillo. Then throws her cards face up on the table.

“Already?” Han asks. “What a shame.”

“Your mind must be elsewhere, Sarya. I’ve never known you to throw a game,” Vilanti says as she shows her cards.

Han takes the game and lets out a whoop as he gathers them all to shuffle.

“I still can’t believe Dallen just up and left us. Did he say anything to either of you? About his plans.”

Both of them shake their heads.

“It’s really odd.”

“I don’t know why you care. Easier to keep yourself from using him. Easier for him to be happy this way,” Han says.

“Ouch,” Vilanti grimaces, then gestures for all the cards to be handed over. She shuffles.

“I do agree with that actually. It’s just that most who move on from our happy little family tend to give us more of a notice. We didn’t get to give him a proper goodbye.”

“I don’t mean to sound callous here Sarya, but you were the only one who cared about the guy. Makes sense why he moved on.” Vilanti deals.

Sarya picks up her hand and stares straight through the cards. “That’s not true.”

“Basically,” Han argues. He draws a card.

“Sometimes you both are mean.”

“Not mean. Just honest,” Han says.

Vilanti draws. “On another note, I heard Makon made a new friend today.”

“What?” Sarya nearly drops her cards. “Our Makon? Makon—stoic, quiet, unsociable Makon?”

“Yep. Met her at the gas station. She was passing through on her way to Wycome and her motorcycle broke down. He fixed it up for her on the spot and they exchanged numbers I guess.”

“What the fuck?”

“Good for him,” Han says.

Sarya draws a card. “Yeah, seriously. I hope that works out.”

“Our next gig is in Wycome and he plans to see her then.”

“Was it love at first sight or something?” Sarya asks. She folds and picks her cigarillo back up. Her interest in cards declining by the second.

Vilanti shrugs and plays her cards, taking the game. “By the way he keeps talking about her, I’d say yes.”

“What’s her name,” Han asks, gathering all the cards into a pile.

“Athi. Athi Lavellan.”

“Another Lavellan huh?”

“Guess so. Maybe she’s related to you two,” Vilanti says.

“Doubt it. Or if she is, it’s very distant,” Han says.

In the distance they hear yelling and smashing bottles. They all exchange looks.

“Wonder who the hell set Deshanna off—“

“Let’s go see if we can smooth things over,” Han says with a sigh.

“You two can go. I’ll probably make things worse. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“That’s because you push his buttons. Definitely better for you to stay here,” Han tells her.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Then she waves at them as they slip out the door and finishes off her cigarillo.

—

It’s dark and quiet and Sarya gazes longingly out the window at a small patch of stars. The only patch not hidden by the clouds. She sighs and startles at the sound of knocking. Straightening herself out, she rubs the redness from her elbows and opens the door.

“Solas,” she says it like she’s expecting him but she’s truly surprised. She steps out with him, shutting the door behind her.

“You forgot your camera,” he tells her, holding it out in his hands.

She takes it from him, hanging it around her neck. “Thank you. I should really start keeping better track of my things or you’re going to start thinking I’m trying to bait you or something.”

“I would bite every time,” he says, his hands clasped behind his back. There’s a certain sparkle in his eye and she can’t read him. But she knows she wants to kiss him. So without another thought, she stretches up on her toes and takes him by surprise. He is frigid and she panics, certain she has misstepped. After all, friends don’t kiss like that.

“I’m sorry,” she says, a little out of breath. “I don’t know what…”

Her words are caught on the edge of his lips as he captures her mouth again. His kiss is unreserved but not what she’d call passionate. Like the kiss of a long time lover. A kiss of promise. Of commitment. Her mind screams at her to let go while simultaneously wishing and longing for more. His leg is pressed into her inner thigh and despite the chill of the air, she’s certain she is on fire. Her nails are in his shoulder, the camera even hurts just a little as it presses into her chest, and she doesn’t mean to let out a moan but it’s too late for regrets as he pushes her against the side of her trailer. One hand above her and the other in her hair. With each breath she steals between kisses, she studies his face. Memorizes it and stores it for always. Freckles for days and the tiniest scar above his brow. The only sign of his age lies in the lines of crows feet near the edges of his eyes and she tells herself to ask if he has a skincare routine. He certainly seems the type.

She studies his closed eyelids, there’s two freckles on the right and a singular small one on the left and she notices that there’s even some red in his brows and wonders if they’d have red headed babies.

She gasps then. Pulls away. Why in the hell is she thinking of babies?

“Perhaps I should…”

“Kiss me again,” she says to him. She won’t let one ridiculous thought ruin the moment. She knows that she’s falling for him. Too fast, too soon but she’s holding on for another day.

When they break apart she doesn’t want him to go. But it’s too much to ask him to stay. So she waves goodbye then clicks her camera, saving the image of him walking away.

[bentforkent]

caffeine, small talk

spencer reid x female!reader, enemies to lovers

content warning: smut !!!!!!, oral sex (male receiving), explicit language, tiny suicide reference, general meanness & bickering (including slut-shaming and toxicity), also some fluff in there too :)

word count: 3,668

in which spencer reid is a royal pain in the ass and he & the reader butt heads. 

“would you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends?” - taylor swift, betty 

spencer reid is a royal pain in the ass. you don’t need to be a genius to know this as fact. as soon as you had stepped foot into quantico’s behavioral analysis unit on your first day however many years ago, the little shit had gotten under your skin. you had worn a lower cut top that day, you remember, and spencer hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of your chest. when hotch introduced you to the team, you gave a brief speech about your background and education, and each member of the team was hung on your every word, except for fucking spencer. he had been distracted by your looks. you remember feeling conscious of his eyes on your cleavage and tugging your blazer closed. from that moment, standing at the front of the bullpen, feeling exposed to him, you decided you hated spencer reid.

“glad to meet everyone,” you had addressed the team sincerely, in conclusion of your introductory spiel. on your way to your new desk, luckily placed across the room and behind spencer’s, he reached out and grabbed your elbow, standing.

“hi y/n, i’m dr. spencer reid,” he had said. the individual introduction probably would’ve warmed your heart (everyone else’s sure did, anyways) if you hadn’t already decided that spencer would be your official workplace enemy.

“dr. reid,” you nodded curtly. you pulled your arm from his grip firmly and resumed walking.

“hey,” he called after you. “i wanted to tell you—”

you paused and turned to him. “tell me what? how good my tits look in this shirt?” you whisper yelled, trying to maintain some level of professionalism. unsure how to answer you, spencer gaped like a goldfish. “you should know, as a woman, it’s really uncomfortable when you can feel weird pervs like you staring at my boobs. on my first day.” you leaned in closer. “my first fucking day!”

spencer retreated to his desk without a word. he wouldn’t meet your eyes, and that was the end of that. until the case. your very first case. spencer was pissed that you had snapped at him, and subsequently took it out on you. his tone of voice was consistently harsh and condescending as he addressed you on the case.

“no, y/n, that doesn’t fit the profile.”

“well, actually…”

“you’re not experienced enough to understand this.”

“my three phds told me i should work on this map alone.”

the feud has escalated since then. everyone on the team is aware of you and spencer’s solid disdain for each other, and they make a point to keep you two apart nowadays. morgan had once gripped both you and spencer by your shirt collars and forced you to apologize to each other, when your verbal abuse of each other had turned dangerously unprofessional.

“y/n, did you know that the earliest documentation of a ‘miniskirt’ was in a 1962 article?”

“did you know that the earliest documentation of me kicking your ass was today?”

“no, listen, the men interviewed for the article were in favor of miniskirts if they were only worn on women they didn’t know. they liked to lust after other women in the short skirts, but if their wives or daughters wore them, they were seen as poor reflections of the men. as whores.”

“what’s your point?”

“you look like a whore today.”

“fuck you, spencer. you know you beat your dick to your photographic memory of my ass in this skirt.” you mimed an orgasm.

“it’s eidetic, and i’d rather kill myself.”

“would you please?”

“fuck—” spencer started, but morgan intervened here.

——————————————

“close your mouth, boy wonder,” you greet spencer, opening your door to let him in. it’s your turn to host the team for drinks and dinner. much to your chagrin, spencer is a part of the team, and thus receives an invitation. you find solace in knowing penelope will probably distract you from any interaction with the lanky boy. besides, whenever the team hung out at your apartment, he quickly left after a few drinks and a short chat anyway. you could survive him for half of a night.

spencer flits past you and into your living room. the team greets him in an uproar of “reid!” and raised drinks. derek sticks out with his chant of “pretty boy!”

“y/n,” jj calls, “we’re dry over here.” she raises her empty glass of merlot.

“more wine, or something else, my loves?”

there’s an absence of voices shouting between rooms as the team discusses. you lean against your kitchen cabinet with eyes fixated on your liquor collection. waiting. this team sure does take their drinks seriously, you think, taking the time by yourself to make yourself an old fashioned. muddle a sugar cube in bitters. add whiskey. as you’re putting an ice cube into the glass, none other than spencer fucking reid saunters into the kitchen, a notepad in his hand.

“i have a list of drink requests,” he says simply, expression blank.

“resident alcohol connoisseur at your service. hit me,” you reply. your tone is more joking than you’ve ever used with spencer, but if he’s caught off guard he doesn’t show it. he rattles off the drink orders, each one something you probably could’ve guessed. penelope always wants something fruity, emily always wants something strong.

when his list is finished, you look up from the liquor to him. “nothing for the boy genius?”

“i’m leaving soon,” he says, and retreats back to the living room, arms full with drinks held precariously. you follow with the rest of the alcohol, handing each drink to its respective drinker. they each thank you profusely.

because your couch isn’t big enough to hold the whole team, you sit on the floor, legs criss-crossed. the team makes lighthearted conversation about not murder and kidnapping for an hour, with you getting up to refill drinks once more in that time. “i like hanging out at y/n’s place, guys. she makes the best drinks,” derek says with a grin up at you.

“i was a bartender in my past life, i think,” you deadpan. penelope agrees with you loudly, with a slurp of her colorful newest drink accompanying.

“speaking of bartenders,” jj starts, and you see spencer visibly tense. “when are you leaving for your date, spence?” she says the word date with a sing-songy tone, dragging out the ‘a,’  and you suddenly feel sick.

the team, naturally, dissolves into excited chatter. reid? a date? you’re silent, focused on your cocktail as the topic of conversation isn’t exactly your favorite. spencer’s not your favorite, you mean. this isn’t about spencer’s date. screw spencer. you don’t care if he goes on a date.

you listen as he fills the rest of the team in on the story. he and jj had gone for drinks one afternoon and he really hit it off with the bartender. lauren, her name is, and jj assures the team that she’s gorgeous. spencer laughs a little, uncomfortable, and stands to leave.

a wave of anger surges over you. how dare he skip out on his friends to go on a date? “i’ll walk you to your car, spencer!” you say cheerily, the lightheartedness in your voice in direct conflict with your internal emotion. the team isn’t stupid, however, and they’ve never heard you be nice at all to spencer, so everyone is acutely aware that something is about to go down. the room feels like the air has been sucked out of it as spencer meets your gaze.

“okay,” he says hesitantly.

you turn to the team. “be good while i’m gone, my loves. the alcohol is on the counter if you, by some crazy chance, need a refill in the next five minutes.” you blow them a kiss, penelope pretending to catch it. the rest of the team stares up at you with wide eyes. “let’s go, genius.” you open the door and escort him out.

as soon as the door latches behind you, spencer pipes up. “what the fuck are you doing, y/n?”

“walking you to your car, dipshit.” there’s a pregnant silence as you walk down the stairs of your apartment complex. “you know, it’s pretty fucked up for you to skip out on team bonding because of a date, spencer, but i understand. i know how important it is for you to lose your virginity one day.”

“fuck you, y/n. you really followed me down here to berate me?”

“yeah, i was getting a little bored just letting you sit there silently.” you lean your side against his car as he unlocks it and tosses his bag into the backseat.

he copies your stance, leaning across from you and looking at you intently. “why do you hate me?”  his tone of voice is low, and you can tell he’s mad.

“you irritate me,” you reply.

“not good enough.” his hazel eyes search your face and even though it’s dark, you can tell they look like honey from the glow of the street lamps.

“you annoy me.”

“again, not good enough. those are synonyms.”

his calm demeanor is enough to send you over the edge. “i hate that you look at me, spencer!” you exclaim, raising your voice. “you make me feel like i’m inferior, like i’m a piece of goddamn fucking meat.” you push your pointer finger into his chest. “you think i’m less intelligent than you, you think i’m less qualified than you, and frankly, you’re a pompous asshole.” he’s silent in stark contrast to your yelling in his face. “i hate your date for tonight. i hate that the whole team loves you.  i hate your fucking cardigans and your fucking converse. i hate when you wear a tie but it’s a little too long or a little too short. i hate that sometimes, you wear a hair tie on your wrist but,” you enunciated each word with a stomp of your foot, “you. never. put. your. hair. up.”

“you’re saying all this, y/n, and i get it, i really do,” he speaks coolly. “all I’m hearing, though, is that you’re in love with me.”

“you cocky fucking asshole.” riled up, you turn and attempt to walk away. spencer grabs your elbow and you’re reminded of the day you first met.

“you hate my cardigans? my ties? my shoes? y/n, for someone who hates that i look at her, you sure look at me a lot.” his voice has less of an edge now, less arrogance. you hum, face still turned away from him. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’ve been a dick to you for years. i own that, and i’m sorry. but i think you came down here because subconsciously, you didn’t want me to get in my car and go on this date tonight.” his hand is still on your elbow, but you pull it away to rub your eyes.

he has absolutely deflated you. the anger you felt in the moments just before is missing, and you take his words to heart. it’s impossible. you weren’t in love with spencer, y/n. just tell him you’re not in love with him, it’s simple. he’s your mortal enemy. you’re not in love with him.

“i think i may be love with you,” you say meekly, finally turning to him. fuck. you meet his eyes for the first time in what feels like years. maybe it had been. he’s softer than you remember.

“y/n, let me kiss you.”

“i’m nervous,” you admit in a whisper. he rubs his hand across your cheek and you lean into the touch. “spencer, literally two minutes ago i wanted you dead, and now…” you trail off. he nods in silent agreement. the two of you stand like that for a few more moments, his hands cupping your face, your eyes raking his features. “…you’re pretty,” you finish quietly. “have you always been pretty?”

he pretends to think for a moment. “yeah, actually.”

you give a watery chuckle and pull away from his embrace gently. “the team is still upstairs. if you really want to kiss me, ditch your date tonight and come back up.”  after you press a hand to his cheek lovingly, you retreat to your apartment quickly, hardly giving him time to follow you.

when you reenter the apartment, the team is silent and staring at you. it’s obvious by their faces that they’d just been talking about you. you close the door behind you and press your back against it. “hi, guys,” you say.

“nothing? no harsh words about reid?” derek peers at you closely.

as you make your way back into the living room, you point a finger at him. “don’t profile me, derek!” everyone chuckles. you don’t plan on bringing up spencer at all, but the silence that settles over the team breaks you. maybe you’re just excited to talk about it, you think, and where once you’d push that thought away, now you welcome it. you gush about what happened in the parking lot, using your hands to emphasize important points. you give the team a short version, expecting spencer to be back up at the apartment any moment. how embarrassing would it be if he walked in the door and you were talking about him? none of the team seemed particularly shocked, but emily casually mentioned how funny it is that none of them had figured out that you and spencer were grappling with feelings for each other.

“if it makes anyone feel any better, i didn’t figure it out either. the only one who did was…”

“reid,” everyone choruses in unison. you dissolve into giggles until the time hits you. it’d taken you about 20 minutes to explain the situation. so much for the short version, but surely spencer would’ve been back by now. unless…you hadn’t considered the possibility that he left. that he actually went on his date instead.

penelope takes note of your sudden shift in expression. “uh, y/n, i hate to say this, but…”

you nod. “he would’ve been back by now, yeah.” you climb up from your seated position and walk to your bedroom, looking out of your window that overlooks the parking lot. “he left,” you call back to the living room, despondent. “fucking asshole,” you whisper. you can hear derek sigh even from your distance. you take a second to compose yourself. fixing your posture, vertebra over vertebra. you allow your emotions to shut off, any sadness you felt towards spencer’s obvious rejection pushed away and replaced with a void. you pad back into the living room.

“well, that’s embarrassing,” you say with a half-laugh. jj gives you a sad look. “anyways, anyone who’s not driving home tonight is welcome to get loaded with me tonight. i just got new shot glasses.” your attempt at acting fine obviously wasn’t flying with the team, and after a moment of silence you finally let it go and sink into the chair next to the couch.

“no more alcohol tonight,” jj says.

“yeah, agreed. i hate to kick you guys out, but i feel like i might just spend the rest of the night in the bathtub. with the lights off.” everyone agrees, standing to leave. you thank them repeatedly for hanging out with you, and apologize for the unfortunate ending to the evening.

you hug penelope, jj, and emily. as you’re opening your arms to embrace derek, there’s a knock at the door. you pause, arms still outstretched. you look around in a panic, and derek pipes up, “well, are you gonna get that?” you feel like you can taste the excitement in the air as everyone pieces together who’s just knocked.

you swing open the door, and there’s spencer, a large bouquet of flowers perched in his arms. “i’m sorry I took so long, i went to get—”

you cut him off by pressing your lips to his firmly. it’s a short kiss, but it says what it needs to say. there are hoots and hollers from behind you, but there’s no one in the room except you and spencer. “you frustrate me.”

————————————————–

you press tiny kisses along spencer’s bare chest. your friends are long gone, leaving pretty swiftly after spencer had shown up. you and spencer had moved to the couch quickly, lips locked, but not before he had explained what the flowers he bought you signified.

“according to the victorian flower code, red tulips signify a declaration of love. victorians used flowers to communicate feelings because courting someone and showing feelings in public was considered taboo.”

“that’s nice, spencer. i like that. is there a flower for “i thought i hated you but it was actually just repressed sexual tension?”

you lay on his chest, limbs entangled. he’s got one hand in your hair stroking gently and the other resting on your stomach, where his thumbs make unconscious circles. “hey, i have this pendant on my necklace, too,” you whisper, tangling your fingers in the chain around his neck. he’s silent for a long time. “spence?” you look up at him. he’s looking down at you, brows furrowed and eyes wistful.

“you wore that necklace on your first day,” he murmurs. “when you were introducing yourself to the team. and i noticed.” the wheels start to turn in your head. “i tried to tell you that we had the same pendant. i was gonna show you,” he sighs. “i was excited to tell you. but you thought i was staring at your boobs.”

you frown, twisting to press a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “i called you a perv. i remember.” he nods. you pout. “i’m sorry, spence. think of how different things would’ve been if i had just listened.”

“yeah, you should probably work on that,” he jokes.

“how can i make it up to you?” you ask, knowing fully well what your plan is. you move smoothly from the couch onto your knees in front of him. “how can i make up for lost time?” he doesn’t respond. he doesn’t need to. you make quick work of his belt buckle as he looks down at you through hooded lids.

time moves slowly as you unbutton and unzip his pants, and spencer is in agony waiting. you look so pretty. he lifts his hips slightly to help you remove his pants. “i don’t think i’ve ever heard you this quiet, spence,” you murmur as you begin palming his bulge through his boxers.

he breathes out a soft moan. “yeah, well your hand is on my dick, so pardon me.” his words are spencer’s typical deadpan, but his voice is an octave higher than usual and full of breath. you tug his boxers down just enough to free his hard cock, and you’re taken aback. he’s big, longer than he is wide. his dick is painfully stiff, wet with precum, and you’ve never wanted to suck someone off more than you have in this moment.

“you’ve been holding out on me, dr. reid,” you grin, eager. you begin to pump him slowly, tantalizingly.

he lets out a high pitched moan and bucks his hips into your hand. “stop teasing.”

“teasing?” you bring your lips to his cock and kiss down his shaft. “i’ve never teased you, not once in my life.” you punctuate by licking a long strip up the base of his cock and pulling him into your mouth slowly. his left hand finds your hair, tugging it back into a ponytail, and his right strokes your cheek softly. you look up at him as you hollow your cheeks and he lets out a rumbling groan at the eye contact. you bob your head slowly, gradually picking up speed. each time his cock hits the back of your throat, spencer whimpers. as you speed up, tears spill out of your eyes. he screws his own shut.

“fuck, y/n.” his hand tightens around your hair and he thrusts his hips once, prompting you to pull off of him and wipe your mouth. you can tell he’s close, and you want this to be good for him. spencer is distraught, to say the least, at the loss of contact. he begins to plead, “wait, shit, no, plea—”

“fuck my mouth.” you cut him off. without waiting for an answer, you sit back on your heels with a bounce and open your mouth for him.

he groans. “you’re going to kill me, baby.” you whimper at the pet name and make a mental note to bring it up later. he moves closer to you, guiding his cock into your mouth. he’s close, too close to even consider going easy on you. his hips move quickly, thrusting in and out of your mouth, punctuated by your gags. he’s feral, chasing his orgasm desperately until he finally reaches his high, moaning your name loudly. you swallow all of his release, pulling off of him and sticking your tongue out for approval. wordlessly, he gets down on his knees to meet your height. before you can ask him what he’s doing, he grabs your face and pulls you into a passionate kiss. you moan against his mouth, but the kiss is over before you know it.

“i love you,” he says sincerely, and you shake your head in disbelief.

“i cannot believe i am saying this to you, spencer reid, but i love you too, baby.” you say the word “baby” with a joking tone, clearly mocking his use of it earlier.

he smiles, all teeth, and says, “i knew you would make fun of me for that! as soon as i said it.”

you shake your head with a smile. “no, i’m not making fun of you, love. i liked it. use it more.”

“‘love’?”

“would you prefer ‘hate’?”

“god, no, not again,” he says, scooping you up into his arms and peppering kisses all over your face and hair. “never again.”

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (Part 10)

Title: Healing as The Pain Fades (gunpowder and fire don’t mix well)

Summary: While Purpled and Ranboo recover, Sam is reminded of his past. It takes Puffy to get him to open up, but he does. His past is an ugly one, but his family doesn't love him any less.

- Chapter One - Chapter Eleven

Masterlist

_______________

Purpled was fast asleep, mind clear and dreamless, for once. Ranboo’s was the one that was running, but from what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe nothing. Perhaps he was just paranoid. He was thinking about the end, and the way that they left the portal shining and vulnerably open on their way home. 

All three of them were home now, safe, warm, and healing, but Ranboo couldn’t shake the deep pit of concern that had settled itself in his stomach. The portal had been closed for a reason- to protect the End from the people that roamed the over world. Ranboo knew that if the wrong one found its way into the portal, it would be over. Ransacked. Looted. 

Even after all that it had done to him, the End was still connected to him. He’d never sever that tie, he’d never be able to cut off that past. He was fine with it, though. Besides the obvious bad parts, the End really was beautiful. When he wasn’t being abandoned, he liked it there.

Maybe it was just his enderman instincts feeling comfortable there.

Ranboo pushed the thought away for a few minutes as Purpled stirred on the bed. They had both crawled into it after Sam deemed them bandaged up enough (although, their wounds were really just minimal. It was Sam’s they were worried about. He assured them that he’d get it looked at, but some small part of their mind doubted the truth of his words.), and fallen asleep. Or at least, one of them had. 

Purpled blearily opened his eyes, and saw Ranboo looking right back at him. “What d’you want?” He groaned, burying his head into the pillow. “It’s too early.”

“Just making sure you’re doing alright.”

A small hum formed in Purpled’s throat. “Oh, yeah. Almost forgot about that.”

Ranboo snorted. “I wish I could. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Purpled rolled over to cling to Ranboo’s arm as the enderman hybrid was sitting up. “Why’re you so concerned?” He laughed almost deliriously at a joke that he hadn’t made public yet.

“What?” Ranboo asked, amused at the scene unfolding before him.

“Ranboo? My brother? More like a bother!” He laughed for a little before quieting and snuggling closer. “I’m sorry. That was mean.” He whined in a sad voice.

Despite that, Ranboo felt a grin creep onto his face. He ruffled Purpled’s hair and let the grin widen as Purpled leaned into the touch. “Nah, that’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

They let silence linger, heat radiating off of both of them. 

“Hey, Ranboo?”

The enderman made a little noise, waiting for Purpled to continue.

“I’m not going to have to fight anymore, right? I can rest?”

Ranboo knew in that moment that healing was going to be even more intricate and difficult for Purpled than he had thought. Purpled had been left alone for so long, he learned to give up on others and rely on himself. Of course he wouldn’t immediately trust again. It was a process.

Realizing he hadn’t responded, he spoke. “No, Purp. You’re safe here. You can rest.”

Purpled was already asleep, and Ranboo wasn’t far to follow. They were both still sleeping when Sam came to check on them, side healing but not quite properly taken care of. He pulled up the blanket to cover them, and smiled softly as he left. It was a good thing he had arrived when he did, because he didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if he’d gotten there a little later.

Sam knew the scene that he’d seen in the stronghold a little more than he’d care to admit. 

__________________

When Ranboo woke up, he was alone in his room. Purpled’s side was cold, so he must’ve gone a while ago, but he had no desire to get up. He needed to, at some point, but he didn’t really want to. Who does, honestly, when they’re in bed? The blankets were warm, the pillows were soft, and Ranboo’s mind was still muddled with the weight of sleep, so really, he had no reason to get up. What did the waking world have to offer him that his dreams didn’t?

The sound of laughter echoed into the bedroom, and Ranboo managed to lift his head up a little. He swung his legs over until his feet hit the floor, then made his way over to where the noise was coming from. 

Only a few of the family was in the living room (Most were missing, like Fundy and Eret who were restoring the castle and Tubbo who was in Logstedshire), laughing at a joke someone said. Ranboo wasn’t sure who said the joke. Probably Tommy, if the way his wings were proudly puffed up were any indication. 

“Ranboo!” Purpled called from next to Tommy on the couch. “You’re up!”

All eyes turned to Ranboo, and he chuckled uneasily. “I sure am. What’ve you guys been up to?”

Sam spoke up from a recliner that was in the corner. His voice was quiet, almost concerningly so. “No much. Just resting.”

“Are you alright?” Ranboo asked, tilting his head.

Sam just shrugged sluggishly. “Yeah. I think.”

It got quiet. “I’m gonna call Puffy.” Tommy mumbled, leaving the room. If the only responsible adult wasn’t being responsible, then they needed another one to make sure they were all okay. Who better to reach than Puffy?

“What? No, don’t call Puffy.” Sam sighed. “I’m fine.” He was met with blank stares. “Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. “Call Puffy, if you want. It’s a waste, though, I promise I am okay.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep talking, big man.” Tommy yelled from out of the room. His voice softened when it was clear that Puffy had picked up his call. “Hey,”

Ranboo turned to Sam. “I don’t believe for one minute that you’re fine. What’s wrong?”

“I dunno.” Sam fidgeted, trying to get comfortable. “That’s a lie. I do know. I just don’t like looking at it.”

“Looking at what? Sam, if you say your wound, I swear-”

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” Sam giggled. Ranboo didn’t like how Sam sounded when he giggled- it was concerning and almost scary, because Sam had always comforted them. What did they need to do when Sam was the one needing help? “Ranboo?”

“Hmm?”

“Is Purpled okay? Are you?”

Ranboo scrunched up his eyebrows and looked at Purpled, who was sitting on the couch, staring back. “Of course we are. You brought us back. Remember?”

Sam’s eyes started to water. “I remember. I just didn’t want it to be like last time. Needed to make sure you made it out alive.”

“Sam,” Ranboo began cautiously. “What do you mean by last time? None of us have died.”

When Puffy burst into the room, Tommy was trailing behind her. Sam never got to answer. “I came as fast as I could,” She fretted, looking over Sam and clicking her tongue in sympathy when she saw his wound. “Alright, big guy, let’s get you into the medical room.”

The three boys listened to Puffy berating their father on his lack of care for himself for a little bit, before leaping up when they heard the door close. Sure, maybe eavesdropping was a little morally wrong in this instance, but they wanted to know why Sam wasn’t tending to his wound. Would he be okay?

Puffy’s voice was muffled, because it was soft and laced with concern. “Why didn’t you call me sooner? Those boys need you, and they can’t have you if you die.”

Sam’s was loose and tired, “I didn’t want to think about the wound. It made me think about that… thing, standing above Purpled and Ranboo, like back then.”

“Back… when? Sam?”

They didn’t hear Sam’s answer, because he never did. They could, however, hear Puffy panicking. Tommy frowned. “C’mon, guys. Let’s go watch a movie.” He wrapped his wings around the other two, and turned up the volume to try and pretend that they couldn’t hear Puffy yelling at Sam to not fall asleep.

It was a while before Puffy came out of the room, and when she did, Sam didn’t follow. She made sure that they couldn’t see into the room, so they just waited for her to come over. 

“Hi, boys.” She sighed, “I’m sorry you had to hear that. We’ll probably have to talk once he’s awake, but he’ll be fine for now.”

They made room for her on the couch, and they all sat in silence. At some point, after Puffy made them all dinner, they fell asleep, but Puffy woke up alone. The boys had all moved to sleep by the door to the medical room, in a large cuddly pile. She had to smile, but it faded when she remembered how Sam was.

It was rough, she had to admit, but he’d make it. If the nonsense he’d let out in a fit of distress about his past was any indication, he’d gone through much worse. They’d have to talk about that.

The room was cheerful, not the plain white that the Community House room had on its walls. Here, there were soft lights, not harsh, and it was welcoming. On the far wall there were a few beds, only one long enough to fit Sam. Clearly, he’d planned to end up there at some point. Given the server, Puffy couldn’t say she blamed him. 

Sam was sitting up, which she wasn’t pleased about. She didn’t want to redo the stitches, but his weary grin made her decide not to be so fussy with him.

“Hi, Puffy. I’m guessing my boys called you?”

So he didn’t remember. That was a little concerning. “Yup. You’ve got some good ones, there. Do you know how you got here? Any recollection of anything from when you got home to now?”

“I… yeah, pretty much everything, except from a little after I sat down in the recliner. I can’t remember what, but I know I definitely spilled something to you.”

Puffy gave Sam a tense smile. “Yeah. It was a bit of your, your childhood. Do you want to talk about it?”

She could see the confliction in his eyes before he sighed and looked down. “I probably should. Talk, I mean. To both you and the boys- you deserve to know. The only person who really knows turned out to be a pretty awful person.” He chuckled harshly, sniffling a bit. 

“Dream, you mean?” Puffy asked slowly, wincing at the mention of her… of the child that should’ve grown up so different. What had happened to the happy little boy that had been so innocent? “He knows?”

Sam nodded. “He was the one that brought me here.”

Abruptly, to change the subject, Puffy spoke up. “The boys slept outside the door last night because they weren’t sure if they were allowed in. They’re worried, Sam.”

“Can I go see them? I should apologize.”

“You can go see them, but you don’t have anything to apologize for, Sam. You were just trying to avoid the past. We can all understand that.”

It was comical, they all had to admit, watching Puffy try to help someone two feet taller than her walk, so Ranboo stepped in. He was the tallest, besides Sam, anyway.

They all sat in the living room, and they chatted aimlessly until the others came home. They’d been messaged, saying that Sam needed to talk. 

“It started when I was younger, I guess. I forget how old, exactly, at this point. Young, innocent. Impressionable. I lived with my mother, because my dad was never there. She would never tell me why, but I know, now. Hunters got him. Hunters that are hired to go after hybrids, to make sure that they never felt safe. My mother must’ve fled, at some point. I’m not sure if I was born yet or not when they got seperated, but we found a nice server and lived there for a bit. Recovered. Spent time together because she lived in fear that it would get cut short.”

Sam looked out the window and smiled ruefully. “We had a nice life, the two of us. Until the hunters found her, and then me.”

________________

The sun was beating down on the plains, hot and fierce. Of course, little Sam had always liked the heat. It was comfortable. His mother wasn’t all that fond of it, but she tolerated the heat for him. She really did love Sam, she loved him with all of her heart, and would do anything, give anything to keep him safe.

And so, the day started off. Sam woke up and had breakfast, and since it was a weekend from the homeschooling that his mother insisted on doing despite how much he begged to go to a real school, he had plans laid out. They were elaborate, they were detailed, and they would take up the whole day, right up until he ran inside to have dinner with his mother. It really was a shame they never got carried out.

“Good morning, you little munchkin. Sleep well?” His mother had asked, smiling fondly at him as she mixed up some eggs.

Sam grinned as he climbed onto one of the seats by the table. “Yup! I had a cool dream, too. Wanna hear?”

He rambled about his dreams, which were elaborate in themselves, because he had such a vivid imagination. He wouldn’t know it, but those were the last dreams in a long time that wouldn’t be plagued with fire and death. His mother listened as she continued cooking, fiddling with the old, rickety stove every now and then to coax it to work.

Eventually, she sat down and handed him a bowl of eggs. “Make sure you eat all of those before you go and run off, okay?” She said, propping her chin up on one of her hands and smiling at her son.

“I will!” Sam promised, not knowing that the bowl of eggs would be overturned, chipped and forgotten, before he even got halfway through.

It was quiet for a moment, but his mother got up to get a glass of water at some point. She was at the sink, filling the cup up, when she looked out of the large window. “Sam,” she started, voice shaking slightly, “Go downstairs and hide, okay? We’re, uh, we’re gonna play a game of hide and go seek, okay?”

Sam scrunched his face up. “That doesn’t sound like a whole lot of fun, if you know where I’m hiding.”

“Sam,” she said, sharper this time. Tense. “Go. I need you to stay down there, okay? Even if you hear people calling for you. Stay here until I come back and knock three times, alright?” She demonstrated a small rhythm, easy for the child to remember.

“Okay.” Sam said. “But momma, you’re scaring me.”

“It’ll be okay, honey.” She promised, tears filling her eyes. Which one of them was she trying to reassure? “It’ll be fine. Just go now. I love you.”

“I love you, too!” Sam called as he went down the stairs into the cellar.

His mother could spare no time to think about Sam anymore. He was a great hider, he was too smart for his own good. He would be fine. He was a good boy, but it was a shame he didn’t get to be a child any longer than now.

She went to her room, grabbing some armor that had been hidden. Really, she was just glad that Sam hadn’t found it when he was looking for a spot for hide and go seek. Next, she went into her bedroom closet and took out her weapons. She was a little rusty, but she hoped it would be enough. She’d given up the blade for motherhood, chosen her battles and chosen life. Now, their time was up. 

If she listened hard enough, she could hear Sam scratching around for the perfect place to hide, but it settled down. She opened the door, whispered a prayer that he’d found it, and stepped into the fields, where a group stood waiting for her. 

Hunters. 

She’d been expecting them. Not this soon, but she had been. She only hoped she’d done enough to ensure Sam’s survival. As she raised her weapon, she tried to smile. Best case scenario, she’d see her son again. Worst case, she’d see her husband. 

Sam wanted a fun game. He really liked winning, and his mom had seemed a little stressed, so maybe he could win if he found a really, really good spot. 

He searched for a little, but a small part of his brain told him to hurry. He wasn’t sure why, it was just a game, right? Maybe his mom was going to trick him and give him less time to hide so that she could win. She wouldn’t do that, though, right?

The hunt for the perfect spot ended when he spotted a small part of the wall that looked like it was loose. She wouldn’t expect him to go into the wall, right?

A piece of the wood came off, almost as if connected by a hinge. It swung outwards, harder to access from the outside than the inside. It was perfect. He gave it no thought, then, at least, as to why it had opened so easily, like it had been made for that very purpose.

He was expecting to be met with whatever the inside of a wall looked like, but as far as his little brain knew, walls didn’t lead to empty tunnels. Did they? Was this just an abandoned mine from when they had first moved in and his mom went mining?

The small part of his brain urged him forward. He played it off as finding an even better place to hide, but he was getting scared. It was dark down there, he’d just woken up, and he hadn’t eaten much before he was sent down here. Without his momma.

He wandered down the small corridor, which looked as if it was for a child, so surely it wasn’t used by him mom. What was the use of having a mine if no adults could go down it?

“For a child to escape,” His mouth said. Where had that come from? Escape? From what? The word ‘instincts’ appeared vividly, and as he continued down the poorly lit passage, he started to cry. 

He didn’t want to play hide and go seek. He wanted his mom, but she had told him to stay down there until she came knocking, and he didn’t want to disobey her. It was a good thing he had started crying, in a way. If he had been quieter, he would’ve heard his mother’s screams and the laughter of men as they approached his home. He would’ve heard the crackle of fire, a little later, and the sound of horse’s hooves as they searched for the child they’d been told lived there too.

The child, however, had reached the surface, a long ways away from home. 

Sam surfaced next to a lake. He’d never really seen a lake before, because his mother wanted to live in the plains so that she could see around them. “Momma doesn’t like being sneaked up on.” He said to himself as he climbed out of the tunnel. He vaguely remembered this lake, he thought. He wasn’t sure why, as he was almost positive that he’d never actually seen it, but the more he stood there, the more he felt like he knew it. 

He was in a forest, but his mother had always told him to never go in the forest. The forest meant getting lost.

“Momma?” He asked, looking around. His tears had stopped for a moment, but they started up again. He felt like he shouldn’t shout, but he really wanted to. “Momma?” He asked, a little louder this time.

“What is wrong, child?” The voice wasn’t his mother’s. It wasn’t soft, honey-like, or comforting. It was smooth, and it sounded like a hiss. “Why do you weep?”

Sam turned to see where the voice was coming from, and he gave a little yelp when he saw the green-speckled face of a creeper staring at him from under one of the trees a little further into the woods. 

“I want my momma. She told me to go hide, but now I’m lost.” He sniffled. “Do you know my momma?”

“Oh, child.” The creeper mourned, hissing softly. “You’re the hybrid who lives in the plains.”

Sam nodded, “Can you bring me home?”

The creeper shook its head. “I can’t, little one. There’s nothing left. The hunters came and burned your house down. They search for you, now. I was worried you’d been found. It’s a good thing your mother had prepared for this.”

Sam furrowed his brow. “It’s gone? But where’s momma? She promised that she’d come back.”

The creeper hummed, burning slightly. “Then that is your first lesson in survival, child. Never trust promises.”

Sam didn’t stay with the creeper long. It was killed by a lone player before morning, and he was left, alone, in a forest. Crying, most of the time, dirty, and tired. He fell asleep in a bush that he had crawled into, cold after spending most of his life in the sun of the plains.

The forest became his home. His safe place. It was easy enough to evade the hunters for a while, if he let his instincts override his mind, but he never liked doing it. He hated the explosions he caused, loud and disruptive. His skin was always sore and tender when he cowered in a crater of his own making, and he had to limp back to the shelter of the forest before the hunters brought more backup.

As the explosions grew more frequent, the barrier between creeper and human thinned. He hissed more than he spoke, he lurked more than he walked, he exploded more than he fought. He was still a child, small and vulnerable. The creepers of the forest gave him a wide berth. To be by him meant to be hunted. 

He was a little feral child, at best, before someone from the server who had known his mother found him. It was a miracle that it was someone who didn’t support the server’s choices to let the hunters in, and even more of a miracle that they were leaving it.

It had taken a while to convince Sam to leave with them. 

“Sam? Oh, my god, Sam? Is that you? I thought they’d gotten you, oh, Sam,”

The words fell on empty ears. He’d learned to survive, not to live. He ran as soon as he had gained passage out of the server, because to be with people was to cause death.

Sam grew on pilfering and server-hopping, often illegally. No one knew his name, just his face. As he grew older, better at hiding, the pictures grew outdated. His older features were his own disguise from the wanted posters that displayed the badly drawn photos of a small creeper hybrid, but it was better to still hide.

A few years later, Sam managed to find himself a friend. Unnamed, now, the title they went by blocked from his memory once he’d grown, either because of the pain the memories caused or because of how long ago it was. They didn’t last long anyway, despite how much the two trusted each other. Their friendship was for survival, but it meant a lot to both of them. Unnamed was a hybrid, too. A blaze hybrid. Fire and gunpowder was dangerous, but they made it work.

Sam had been injured, pushed into a corner, Unnamed standing over him as the hunters approached.

“Hey there, sonny. Been a long time since we caught your trail, huh?” One of them sneered, and Sam whimpered.

Unnamed snarled right back. “You aren’t getting him.”

“And why’s that?”

“He’s lived too long to be taken by you filth. Sam,” Unnamed said desperately, knowing how grim their situation was, “I’m lighting up. You know what to do.”

“No,” Sam responded, sobbing at either the pain or the sorrow he felt, “It’ll kill you.”

“But not you,” Unnamed retorted, “And isn’t that the point of me? To ensure your survival? Sent by your mother to protect you?”

“What?” Sam had asked, mouth dry, but it was too late. The gunpowder had risen, and he was alone, in a crater raging with flames as his blood fell onto the ground. 

He made sure to travel alone after that. Trusting no one was in his very genes at that point. He was tired of life, but he needed to keep going. His momma would be mad if he went to see her this early. 

___________

“Yeah.” Sam said, looking at the ground. “At some point, Dream found me. It was many years later, anyway. You don’t want the whole story.”

“Sure we do,” Ranboo protested. “If it’s important, we want to hear it. As long as you want to share, of course.”

Sam just shook his head. “No. You don’t want to hear it. What I did, how I survived… It’s not a story you should hear. Just know that I’m doing okay, now. I guess this family is as much for me as for you guys, though, huh?”

Ranboo hummed, then snuggled into Sam’s side. “I love you. You know that, right, dad?”

Sam couldn’t respond immediately, though, because Ranboo had spurred a whole chorus of ‘i love you’s from the group, and once they were done, he was laughing. 

“Aw, I love you guys, too. Now, it’s late, and way past your bedtime.” 

They didn’t move, though. They just let Tommy use all of the blankets to make a giant nest for them to sleep in, right in the middle of the living room. Niki had traveled over to spend the night with Puffy, and Eret stayed as well. They were a big, happy family, and though they all had pasts that they didn’t want to think about, they had a future that they looked forward to.