#i don't know what my self-control will be

[greniza]

One of the consistent elements of Human Domestication Guide is that the setting's core kinks are, in-universe, institutionalized and enforced to a greater or lesser degree depending on the story. To many people, those kinks are strange or off-putting, and the premise of being forced into such a situation is (understandably) horrifying. My first introduction to the universe was the original story, which can be (and was, by me) read as a character's life and mind being wrested from her control and sculpted by a malignant and alien entity with total technological and social power, transforming the previously defiant main character into a puppet whose new master could play with or discard as she saw fit. This is not to say the story is problematic -- fiction is fiction -- but it left a lasting impression of the canon that I'm sure others share. Such is the bitter taste present in-universe.

There are people that, upon hearing someone say "I like this" about anything, will turn around and say, "Wow, you like this? You want everyone to have this? I don't want this, and therefore you are a bad person for wanting to force me to have this." These people fail to appreciate that someone could conceive of having different preferences from them. The "but" is that, as mentioned before, the bitter institutionalization of the human domestication guide universe loads the statement "I want to live there" with subtext of allowing the HDG universe's subjugation upon the unfortunate listener so long as the speaker gets to live there too.

The speaker's belief is that the subjugation of the HDG universe would be an abhorrent experience. I would agree with previous' post that it is about control, and that evaluating control and self-determination as moral goods isn't necessarily correct. I propose that while seeking control or it's simulacrums may be irrational, it is a survival instinct. If I had the ability to wave my hand, say "abracadabra," and cause anything material I imagined to come to pass, I might not be happier, but I would definitely never go hungry, and things that I noticed hurting me would evaporate. With more money, more time, more this, more that, one is necessarily able to do more. In previous's example, they trade their choice of food for automatic, free, and instant preparation; this is an increase of agency for previous and a loss of agency for another. So, previous would opt in, and someone else wouldn't.

This survival instinct extends to hypothetical considerations of the HDG universe. "What if," a skeptic might ask, "I was assigned an affini who's just sadistic and likes it when I suffer? In-universe, I'm powerless. I have no recourse! That would be awful!" and that skeptic would be correct! They would have no recourse. Such is necessarily the framing of the setting. The problem, reassures canon, is the premise of the hypothetical. There are no evil affini. All are very long-term thinkers with the happiness of the organisms they care for as the top priority. There are no need for checks, balances, or anything that could impede them, as they are as pure as angels while working in groups. This is almost paradoxical; the affini are characterized as big, weird-looking plantpeople, but still people. People, as you or I know, tend to suck and be awful, to take things for themselves at the cost of others. They’re so like us in some ways that they must be like us in every way. Furthermore, the individual characterization of affini often comes to friction with this overarching premise, as individual affini are clever and good, but still undeniably people and still undeniably flawed.

Truthfully, subscribing to the paradox of affini being both comprehensible and benevolent requires effort and a willingness to suspend disbelief for the sake of fiction. If the affini are truly people with flaws and shortcomings, as compelling narratives often require them to be, then they cannot be perfect in the way that canon demands they be. But, in order for canon to not be a narrative idealizing giving "good-intentioned" authoritarians unchecked power, the benevolence of affini must be the case. To quote, of all things, the Federalist papers, "If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary."

HDG critics do not have investment in the setting sufficient to justify upholding suspension of disbelief in the face of narratives they view as unsettling, while fans of the setting are able to justify this suspension due to their enjoyment of the works therein.

Is HDG problematic? Again, it's a work of fiction with a subjective interpretation. The setting explores a reversal of the survival instinct to seize control, with payouts to protagonists for doing so. Equally, the setting explores a universe where throwing oneself prostrate at the feet of an imperialist conqueror yields great rewards. It serves as a vehicle for critique of the modern system where your choice is to either submit or suffer; a system which advertises itself as at least having a choice. Ultimately, though, the core of Human Domestication Guide is the kink. It's fiction, not reality. Judging engagement with a fictional work, especially one centered around kink, is silly.

A critique I've seen of HDG is "you'd have no control over your life" and idk, I feel like I have so little control over my life now.

the main difference is here it's due to capitalism, ableism, and transphobia and I have to largely take care of myself. Whereas in HDG, I would be fed, clothed, my disabilities accommodated for, my transition would be done in a week And I'd have a large hot plant person caring for me the entire time.

If I'd have no control over my life, at least HDG is safe and sexy

[violetskylights0]

Can you please do selvika if her and the reader did nnn(no nut November) like you did with vi (To be honest she would probably be like no 😭) Its ok if you don't want to

I am a Vi girl to my very core but I must give the people what they want. I thought it would be cute and short...and now we have some of the nastiest shit I have ever written. I hope it's everything you wanted and more xoxo. @starisinlovewiththemoon

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Games we like to play (18 +)

Prostitute!reader x Sevika

Warnings: Degradation/Smut/Pet names/Kind of cute?

No Nut November. Just saying it felt ridiculous. You’d heard about it before—whispers in the brothel about Piltover clients and their strange indulgences in self-denial. You’d always dismissed it as yet another quirk of the privileged: something to laugh at, not take seriously.

And it wasn’t like you had the luxury of turning down indulgence. Working at the brothel wasn’t about holding back; it was about giving people exactly what they wanted. Or needed. You didn’t care much either way—clients came and went, their faces blurring together after a while.

That is until Sevika walked in.

You’d known her by reputation, of course. Everyone in the Undercity did. She was Silco’s right hand, the enforcer with a mechanical arm and a short temper to match. People whispered about her in a way that made you assume she was ruthless, dangerous, someone you didn’t want to cross paths with unless you had to.

So, when she first stepped into your room, you froze. The light was dim, but there was no mistaking her broad shoulders, the scar cutting across her cheek, or the way her eyes flicked over the space with a calculated calm.

You expected her to bark orders, to demand something rough or impersonal. But instead, she went to your bar cart, poured herself a drink, and leaned casually against the wall. “Nice setup,” she’d said, her tone low and unhurried.

Her behavior threw you. You weren’t sure what to make of her—this woman who seemed both entirely in control and quietly restrained. You talked for a while, about nothing in particular, and the longer you listened, the more the fear melted into something else. Curiosity, maybe. Intrigue.

A drink or two in, though? That reserved demeanor? Gone. That night, she paid for three hours—and she’d used every minute.

Since then, she’d been your only client. It wasn’t just the money—though she made sure you didn’t need anyone else—but the connection. She was different. Reserved but attentive, with a way of making you feel like the only person in the room. You didn’t put labels on it—Sevika wasn’t the type for that—but it was something. Enough to make you bold.

Which is how this conversation started.

“I heard one of my coworkers talking about it with her Piltover client,” you said, voice light as you trailed your fingers along Sevika’s arm. The sheets rustled between your legs as she came up for air and propped herself up on one elbow, dark eyes narrowing at you in amusement.

“Go on,” she said, her voice low and rough, already laced with suspicion.

“It’s this thing they do. No Nut November.” You tried not to laugh at the words, but Sevika’s expression—a mix of disbelief and amusment—nearly broke your composure.

“No... what now?” she repeated, her lips twitching into a smirk.

You bit your lip, enjoying the rare moment of catching her off guard. “Basically, it’s a whole month where you’re not allowed to... you know.”

Sevika snorted, dropping her head and rolling on her side “You’re telling me people do this shit on purpose?”

“Apparently,” you said, biting back a grin. “Some kind of self-control thing.”

“Sounds like something those Piltover assholes came up with. Too much money, not enough brains.” Her voice was dry, but the faint chuckle undercut the sharpness.

“Probably,” you agreed, laughing softly. “But... it could be fun.”

Sevika stilled, her gaze snapping back to you. “What?”

“We could try it,” you said, keeping your voice as casual as possible. “Just for the hell of it. What’s the harm?”

She sat up fully, pulling her tank top back on as she shook her head. “No offense, sweetheart, but isn’t the whole point of what we do to not hold back?” Her tone was blunt, but there was an edge of curiosity behind it like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

You frowned, the remainder of your undefined “arrangement” stinging a little. But you weren’t about to give up that easily.

“C’mon, Sev,” you murmured, letting the sheet slip off your body as you stood. Her gaze flicked downward for a moment before she caught herself, her jaw tightening.

“You barely have time to visit me these days,” you said softly, stepping closer. “I know things are... hard right now. Silco’s gone. You’re picking up all the pieces. I just thought maybe this could be something to take your mind off it all. Something just for us.”

You reached up, your fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the rough edge of the scar there. Sevika exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly under your touch.

“And,” you added, your voice dropping as your hand moved to her arm, “think about how good it’ll feel at the end of the month. Me, all needy. And you…” Your fingers grazed the hard lines of her bicep, drawing her attention.

“Pent up?” she finished for you, a low chuckle rumbling in her chest.

You grinned. “Exactly.”

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a heavy sigh, she reached for your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” she murmured, her voice softening as her forehead rested against yours.

You smiled, standing on your toes to kiss her. Her lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness of her calloused hand as it held you steady.

“Fine,” Sevika muttered against your lips, pulling you closer as she sealed the deal. “Two weeks. But don’t think for a second I’m making it easy for you.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you pulled back, excitement bubbling up like steam in a kettle about to burst. For a moment, you thought you saw the faintest flush creeping up her neck, but she turned away too quickly for you to be sure.

“Two weeks,” she repeated, adjusting her cape as if to distract herself. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You smirked, leaning against the doorway to watch her go. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

This was going to be very, very interesting.

The first week wasn’t so bad. You stuck to your usual routine, and seeing Sevika three times that week made it unexpectedly fun.

Tuesday’s visit to her apartment was a perfect example. She’d summoned you with a cryptic, “Come by tonight,” and though her tone was casual, it always managed to spark a thrill deep in your chest.

Navigating the labyrinth of Zaun’s backstreets was second nature by now, though it still carried an edge of excitement. The quiet hum of the city and the faint buzz of neon lights guided you to her door, where you knocked three times—the code you’d both settled on.

The door opened with no preamble, and there stood Sevika, framed by the dim light spilling out from her apartment. The sight of her stopped you dead in your tracks.

Her cigarette hung loosely between her lips as she fiddled with her mechanical arm, muttering something under her breath. The dark brown tank top she wore stretched tight over her chest, highlighting the sculpted curve of her shoulders, while her black boxers sat dangerously low on her hips. The disheveled look was almost unfairly attractive, and it left you feeling momentarily speechless.

Her sharp eyes flicked up to meet yours, and a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You gonna stand there all night or come in?”

You slipped inside quickly, your pulse already quickening. She moved to her couch and collapsed into it like she owned the world, legs spread wide, exuding an effortless dominance that made your skin tingle.

Without missing a beat, you crossed the room and climbed onto her lap, settling yourself like you’d been invited—even though you hadn’t been. You plucked the cigarette from her lips and took a long drag, locking eyes with her as you exhaled.

“You know,” she drawled, her tone low and teasing, “you could always ask before you take.”

“And what’s the fun in that?” you shot back, a playful grin spreading across your lips.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Keep pushing, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice a velvet threat.

Before you could quip back, she had you pinned to the couch, her large hand encircling your throat—not squeezing, just enough to make your breath hitch. Her lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep and consuming, like she was claiming you all over again.

Her knee pressed up between your thighs, and the pressure was just enough to pull a shameless moan from you. The sound made her grin, slow and wicked.

“Ready to give up this silly little game you insist on playing?” she asked, her voice husky as her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

The reminder of your bet jolted you out of your haze, and you pushed against her shoulders, sitting up dramatically. “You’re already trying to sabotage me!” you accused, narrowing your eyes at her.

“And it almost worked,” she said, her grin unfazed. “C’mon, sweetheart. Give it up. You know you can’t say no to me.”

You scoffed, your gaze darting to the table beside you where her screwdriver lay. With a smirk, you snatched it up and held it out to her. “Give me that.”

Her brow arched, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“Well,” you continued, shrugging nonchalantly, “since you’re paying for my time, I might as well make myself useful. You looked frustrated when I showed up.”

Her confusion melted into reluctant amusement as she took the screwdriver. “You offering to fix my arm now?”

“Depends,” you said, gesturing for her to sit back down. “Which screw were you trying to tighten?”

She hesitated for a moment before sitting down and explaining the issue. You listened intently, nodding along and offering the occasional suggestion, though you weren’t exactly an expert.

The rest of the evening was spent sifting through her pile of spare parts, sharing drinks, and laughing over failed attempts to jury-rig solutions. At one point, you glanced up from the mess to find her watching you—not with her usual smugness, but something softer, quieter. The look vanished as quickly as it came, leaving you questioning if you’d imagined it.

By week two, though, things got harder—literally and figuratively. Your body betrayed you at every turn, and the tension was maddening. It left you feeling like a pent-up teenager, desperate and all too aware of every brush of fabric, every suggestive glance. But if Sevika thought you’d break first, she had another thing coming.

Which brought you to Friday night at The Last Drop. Sevika’s routine was as predictable as clockwork—every Friday, she’d be at her usual table, gambling and sipping whiskey like she didn’t have a care in the world. It was the perfect opportunity to test her resolve.

You stood in front of the mirror, applying the last swipe of lip gloss and admiring your handiwork. The black leather skirt clung to your hips, catching the faint glow of the moonlight, and your low-cut top highlighted just enough cleavage to make Sevika’s attention inevitable. You smoothed your hair, gave yourself one last smirk, and headed out.

The bouncer at The Last Drop barely looked up before nodding in the direction of Sevika’s table. You spotted her immediately, lounging like a queen among her subjects. Her cigar glowed faintly in the low light, and the subtle curve of her smirk as she leaned back in her chair set your nerves buzzing.

You approached with deliberate confidence, the click of your heels drawing eyes as you stopped beside her. “Is that seat taken?” you asked, motioning to her lap.

The table fell silent, the men and women around Sevika staring openly, their gazes lingering far too long for your liking. Sevika, however, barely glanced at you before leaning back and spreading her legs slightly in invitation.

You lowered yourself onto her lap, adjusting your skirt just enough to let her feel the curve of your hips against her. Her hand settled on your thigh, a possessive touch that sent shivers through you.

She leaned in, her breath brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “It’s cute that you thought dressing like a slut would make me jealous. But here’s the thing—they all know you’re my slut. What’s there to be jealous about when they can only dream?”

Her low chuckle rumbled through you as she tossed some chips onto the table, her hand sliding higher on your thigh.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you weren’t backing down—not yet.

Game on.

The game at the table picked up, the noise growing louder with every passing round. You barely paid attention, more focused on Sevika's drink getting dangerously low. Without waiting for her to ask, you hopped up to grab her another. Her hand delivered a quick, casual pat to your ass as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the sly grin that spread across your face.

At the bar, you scanned the crowd for a target. Spiked-hair guy slumped over near a puddle of vomit? Nope. A buzzcut woman giving you that look from the middle of the room? Way too easy. Then, your gaze landed on her: a loudmouth with an undercut and no clue about the pecking order here. Jackpot.

You sidled up to the bar, ignoring her completely at first. Tapping your empty glass, you got the bartender’s attention, who already knew what to pour: whiskey for Sevika. Only then did you glance her way.

“Looks like you’re having a hell of a time over here,” you said, flashing a playful smile.

She turned toward you, the conversation with her friend forgotten. Her eyes swept over you with a low whistle. “And I think I’m about to have an even better one,” she smirked.

Right where you wanted her. But she needed to work a little harder for it.

As she started asking about you, you casually mentioned the brothel. Her eyes lit up like it was her birthday.

“You know,” you said, tilting your head coyly, “I do give discounts to clients who know how to show me a good time.”

“Oh, yeah?” she grinned, leaning closer. “Convenient, since I’ve got some cash burning a hole in my pocket.” Her hand found the back of your thigh, pulling you in just enough to make the air between you crackle.

You felt Sevika’s gaze burning into your back from across the room, but you didn’t turn around. Instead, you leaned into the stranger’s touch, tapping the muscles of her arm teasingly.

“I think I’d like a preview of what the rest of my night could look like,” she said, her voice dropping as she tapped your chin up with her finger.

“Oh, yeah?” you whispered, your lips inches from hers. “Why don’t you show me what I’m working with?”

Just as she started to lean in, you barely had time to process the hand on your thigh disappearing. A blur of movement later, the stranger hit the floor, a guttural thud snapping the air between you.

Sevika stood over her, gripping the fabric of her shirt with one hand.

“I’ll give you five seconds to get the fuck out of my bar,” Sevika growled, her voice low and razor-sharp. “Before I break every disgusting finger that touched my girl.”

Your eyes widened as the stranger stammered something snarky, but it didn’t matter. Sevika’s fist connected with her nose before she could finish. Blood sprayed, and the woman crumpled onto the ground.

Sevika turned to you, her jaw tight, her eyes blazing.

“Office. Now.”

Before you could respond, she grabbed your hand, dragging you toward the back. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving you alone with the familiar tension crackling between you like a storm about to break.

You leaned back against Silco’s old desk, arms crossed. “Well, someone’s jealous.”

Her glare could’ve melted steel. “Jealous?” she barked, stalking toward you. “It’s one thing to show up dressed like that, begging for attention. But you were practically dry-humping her in front of everyone.”

You shrugged, biting back a grin. “Isn’t that my job? Making sure potential clients are… interested in what they see?”

Her growl reverberated through the room as she closed the distance between you. “Yeah, well, from now on, I’m your only client that matters.”

Your smirk widened. “Sevika, are you trying to make us exclusive?”

She chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. “This isn’t about some stupid game. You’ve been trying to drive me insane since day one, and guess what? You did it. Congratulations. Now I’m gonna make you regret it.”

“Funny,” you teased, hopping up onto the desk and letting your knees fall open just enough. “Seems like everything’s going exactly according to plan.”

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, she just stared at you. Then, with an exasperated chuckle, she stepped between your legs, her hands landing on your hips.

“I knew you’d be the death of me,” she muttered, before grabbing your neck and crashing her lips into yours.

Every ounce of frustration and tension boiled over in that kiss, her grip firm and unrelenting as if to remind you exactly who was in charge now. And this time, you didn’t argue.

You had made out with Sevika plenty of times before. But as her tongue slid into your mouth this time, it was different. There was no pretense, no playful back-and-forth teasing. This wasn’t just a hookup, and you weren’t just some random conquest.

She wasn’t kissing a prostitute. She was staking a claim.

A moan escaped your lips as she pushed you back against the desk, the edge digging into your lower back as her frame towered over you. You gasped when she climbed on top of you, her weight a deliberate reminder of how much control she had.

Her lips trailed from your jaw to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave marks that you knew you’d see tomorrow. “I think I’ll start by ruining this little outfit,” she growled, her voice dark and rich. “Since you’re so set on showing the Undercity what’s mine, I’ll make it easier for you.”

Her metal hand traced up your waist, the cold edge of her finger sending shivers down your spine. You barely had time to process her next move before she dragged it sharply upward, slicing clean through your top like it was nothing.

You inhaled sharply as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed. Sevika sat back for a moment, her eyes raking over you with a hunger that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

“Much better,” she muttered, her lips quirking into a wicked smirk as she leaned in, her nose brushing against yours. “But you’re not done paying for that little stunt at the bar, sweetheart.”

Her hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You wanna play games?” she teased, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Fine. I’ll play. But we both know how this ends.”

“Do we?” you shot back, your voice breathy but still defiant. “Seems to me like you’re the one losing your cool.”

That earned you a sharp laugh, her teeth flashing as her smirk widened. “Keep talking,” she said, her voice low. “Let’s see how long you last before you’re begging me to stop.”

You opened your mouth to make a smart ass comment  but it was already to late as she started pinching one of your nipples with her real hand. 

‘Look at these already stiff. You really are a fucking whore.” Sevika said aggresily spitting on your chest before leaning down and licking it to spead over your left nipple. 

You started moaning as she swirlled her tongue and lightly bit at your nipple as your hands shot to her hair. She made sure to leave a few hickeys before quickly tearing through your mini skirt as well quickly dropping to her knees and pulling you to the edge of the desk. 

You groaned, your head tipping back as Sevika pinned your thighs nearly flat against your shoulders. The contrast was maddening—her metal hand icy against your left thigh, the sharp edges biting just enough to tease, while the warmth of her calloused fingers on your right thigh sent sparks shooting through your body.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice low and taunting as her eyes roamed over you. "Can’t decide if you like it rough or soft, huh? Guess I’ll just give you both."

Her grip tightened, the cold metal sending a shiver up your spine as she leaned down, her breath ghosting over your neck. The deliberate pressure of her hands, one hard and unyielding, the other impossibly warm and strong, had you arching into her without thinking.

“Keep making noises like that, and I might just keep you pinned like this all night,” she teased, her lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the needy whimper threatening to spill out. But Sevika caught it, her smirk practically audible as she shifted her weight, her metal fingers teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Thought so,” she growled, leaning in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of your throat.

You loved when Sevika treated you like a ragdoll with no other purpose than to her pretty little fucktoy and cum. And you were already close to cumming thirty seconds after her tongue started dancing across your clit. The sound of Sevika slurping up all of your juices made you go wild. 

You felt her hand on your right thigh move to your entrance groaning at the feeling of her two fingers stretching you out. 

“Cant believe this pussy is so greedy sucking my fingers in. It’s almost like you get off of me degrading you huh” Sevika moaned continuing her assault on your clit with her tounge.

“Well I’ll make it worth your wild hm? Cum on my fucking fingers like the greedy slut you are.” Sevika engouraged instantly sending you over the edge as your legs began to shake as you called out Sevikas name. 

You barley had time to cathcn your breath before Sevika told you to stand up and turn around to brace yourself against the desk. 

You heard her undoing her pants and feeling something kind of warm and hard against your entrance.

“Thought I would wear this think out to see if it was comfortable enough to bring over to the brothel. Didnt know it would come in handy so soon.” She said pressing into you as the object slid inside of you wour jaw falling slack from the sensation. 

‘W-what is that- oh my god.” You said gripping the desk.

“Saw some women talking about this thing when I was up in Piltover running some collections. I think they called it a strap? Figures your sloppy pussy would take it in one go.” Sevika said starting to roll her hips so the strap started moving in and out of you. 

You had never felt something so good your eyes rolling back as she picked up the speed. 

She gripped your hair with one hand as she moved her knee between yours using her muscular thigh to push you bent leg up on the desk. Increasing her speed even more. 

It felt so fucking good you didnt even have control of what was flying out of your mouth just expletives and Sevikas name.

As the slapping sounds began to echo through the room you felt yourself getting close again As Sevikas grunts sounded like a melody against your ears. 

“ Go ahead screm it louder baby. Let everyone in the bar- no everyone in the lanes know who this pussy belongs to.” She grunted bringing her hand down on your ass with a hard slap as she continued ramming into you. 

“Fuck it’s all yours Sev! S-stresching me out so good.” You slurred feeling your orgasm washing over your. You thought she would slow her pace but as your orgasm began to calm Sevika kept punding into you.

You felt your eyes roll back getting light headed from the pressure. A new feeling building in your stomach. 

“I know you have more in you hm? Show daddy how well you can squirt all over my strap. She said smacking your ass again. 

You shrieked her name cursing her out as you felt a sudden rush followed by a feeling of wetness shooting all over your leg as Sevika groaned at how well you were taking it. 

Sevika finally slowed her pace, her movements deliberate and torturous as she eased out of you. The rush of sensation left you dizzy, your body slack, and your legs threatening to give out entirely. You stumbled forward, but Sevika was quick, catching you effortlessly.

She chuckled low in her throat, the sound vibrating through you as she scooped you up into her arms like you weighed nothing. Carrying you to the worn couch in the corner of the room, she settled down with you perched in her lap, your body still trembling in the aftershocks.

“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered, your voice breathy and ragged. You barely had the energy to lift your head, but the accusation carried all the heat you could muster. “First, you tell the whole damn bar I’m your girl, then you ruin my favorite skirt, and then you fuck me like that?”

Sevika smirked, her hand idly tracing patterns along your thigh. “Mm, don’t forget—I also carried your pretty ass over here.”

“Not the point,” you shot back, though the warmth in her touch had your indignation quickly waning.

Her smirk deepened, dark eyes glinting with mischief. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she murmured, her voice thick with self-satisfaction.

You tilted your head, confused and still trying to regain full control of your brain. “What?”

Her grin was almost feral as she leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I won your stupid game.”

The realization hit you like a slap. “Oh, hell no—”

“Uh-uh,” she interrupted, cutting off your protests with a possessive kiss that left you breathless all over again. When she finally pulled back, her smug expression had you torn between wanting to strangle her and kiss her again.

“Face it,” Sevika said, her tone dripping with smug satisfaction as her hand trailed lazily up your spine. “You can’t resist me. You never could.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the smug arch of her brow and the way her fingers tightened just enough on your waist shut you up fast. Damn her for being right.

Sevika’s laugh rumbled through her chest as she leaned back, utterly victorious. “That’s what I thought,” she said, her voice teasing as she rested her head against the back of the couch. “Guess that makes me the reigning champion, huh?”

You huffed, your pride smarting, but the way her arms tightened around you, grounding and comforting, made it impossible to stay mad.

“Fine,” you grumbled, resting your head against her chest. “But next time, I’m taking home the crown.”

“We’ll see, sweetheart,” Sevika murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “We’ll see.”

[sugurusfavemonkey]

A Helping Hand (Part 2) read part 1 here summary: after a long winding wait you and Gojo finally take your relationship to bed the next level. pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader word count: 4.2k warnings: MDNI; fluff and love confessions, cursing, oral (female receiving), creampie (this is a work of fiction, wrap it before you tap it irl!); rough s&x; canon divergence - both Gojo and reader are over 18 when Gojo takes in the Fushiguro siblings.

a/n: I lied, put your clothes back on... we're going on a fluff ride (roughly 1.5k words) before the sexy bits make an appearance (the other 2.7k), because, apparently, I cannot control myself once I start writing.

Unfortunately for you and Gojo, things did NOT progress as expected that night.

Tsumiki insisted they should help you with the cleaning after dinner and dessert and then launched into animated retelling of the debate club happening earlier that day as she dutifully dried the dishes you handed her.

It was many hours later before the kids finally went to their beds.

You put both of them to bed with a forehead kiss - the embarrassed blush on Megumi's cheeks never failing in making you chuckle - and  you were exhausted by then, hand covering a big yawn that had Satoru laughing.

He threw his arm over your shoulders, using the leverage to pull you away from the kids' bedroom as he closed the door behind you with his free hand.

"Tired?" 

"Completely wiped." you admitted, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, the realization of just how well you fit under his arm making you giddy "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Well, I guess I just wanted to have a wild first night with my new boyfriend, but I don't think I could even fathom the idea of keeping up with his stamina right now."

"This boyfriend of yours sounds like a dream."

"Except when he's being a self-centered dimwit." 

You tried to untangle yourself from under his arm, but Satoru had a different idea. He bent his knees until he could reach with his free arm underneath your knees and picked you up before you had time to protest, a yelp of surprise the only noise you managed to release as your own arms found support around his neck, and adjusted the arm around your shoulders to better support you on his hold. 

"I'm sure he has good reason to think so highly of himself." Satoru spoke as he rearranged his hold to support your weight in one arm, allowing himself to open the door to the other bedroom. 

"Stop praising yourself, Gojo." You chastised as he kicked the door shut as soon as you crossed the threshold.

"Nuh-uh. That's Satoru to you. We went over that already." 

"Not when you're being insufferable, no." Your words were barely discernible through the yawn you let out as you let yourself relax against him. 

"Hmm. Let's get you to bed, sweets."

"Yeah? You gonna do unspeakable things to me in the master bedroom, Gojo?" Your words were slurred, breath fanning teasingly against his neck, eyelids heavy with sleep.

"It's Satoru," he insisted, "and no. Not tonight. Even though I'd like nothing else than taking you, you're so sleepy you sound drunk right now."

"Look at you being all gentlemanly. I though Nanami was the last one left of those." 

"Why are you bringing up Nanamin when we're talking about sex?!"

"You jealous?" you hummed, eyes already closed.

"Pfff! As if I had any reason to be jealous of that nerdy emo."

"I don't know... I think he has his charms." Satoru unceremoniously dropped you on the bed just you you finished uttering those words. "Ah!"

"That's for talking about other men in my presence."

"Oh my god, Satoru! Are you really going to be that much of a possessive boyfriend?" 

"Too late to back off now, sweets." He playfully stated, leaning over you before dropping to the other side of the bed and making you bounce on the mattress again.

You turned your head, staring at his annoyingly perfect side profile.

"Why do you always call me that?" Satoru has always used that pet name when referring to you and though you always wondered the nickname's origins that was the first time you proffered the question aloud. 

"You know how much I love my sweets."

"Who would have thought you could be so corny? I'm serious, Satoru."

"So am I," he turned his head to face you as well, "I think I've loved from the moment we've met." his small confession has your heart stuttering in your chest.

"Now, that just can't be true. If I remember correctly, you called me weak and said I'd never be able to keep up with you and Su-" you cut yourself off before you said something that would potentially strike a sour note. 

Still, you weren't fast enough. You saw the moment Satoru's face fell, his expression becoming somber. He looked away from you and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, well... everyone is weak compared to me."

You sighed bitterly, annoyed at yourself for spoiling the moment.

"I shouldn't ha-"

"You're not-"

The both of you started at the same time, pausing once you realized the other was also talking. Satoru was the one to break the tense silence following the sudden standstill: 

"I was wrong. You're not weak. You never were." his voice was quiet, serious. So different to his usual laidback disposition.

"I mean, I'll never really get anywhere near your level."

"Still. You're strong. You're efficient and resourceful. And you care. You care so much sometimes I'm scared you'll wear yourself thin. Just like- just like him." Somehow you knew he wasn't just talking about your prowess as a sorcerer.

"Satoru. Baby. Look at me." You pleaded, turning your entire body this time and tenderly grasping his chin, coaxed him into looking your way once more.

"I'm not leaving." You stared intently into his impossibly blue eyes as you made the vow. "You won't get rid of me that easily."

His hand found yours on his face and gently entwined your fingers before guiding them to his lips, where he placed a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You're not sure if he ever said anything in reply because you soon doze off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

Satoru was no longer in bed with you when you woke up the next morning to a chime on your phone.

You sighed and sprawled onto your back, hand skimming over your face to find creases in the shape of the ruffled pillowcase and a bit of dried drool at the corner of your lips before finally picking up the offending gadget to 4 new messages from one strongest hoe🫸🟣:

Leave it to Satoru to make you go from embarrassed to delighted in less than a minute.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You spent the rest of your Saturday with Megumi and Tsumiki, thankful you weren't summoned for anything. You were suspicious it had something to do with Gojo, he probably took on more curses just to spare you. It would explain the two whole days of a job when he usually handled curses in less than a minute.

Sunday came around and Satoru called you by noon, letting you know he threatened the elders into leaving the two of you free at least up until Monday and asked Shoko to watch over the kids for the night.

"Huh. This damn curse is tougher than I thought. Gotta go finish the job. See ya tonight. Love ya, sweets!" He ended the call before you even processed his words, your heart skipping a beat.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You had left Tsumiki and Megumi back at the apartment in Saitama with Shoko and went back to your own home in Tokyo to get ready for your first date with Satoru a few hours before.

The clock had just hit 7pm and you were anxiously pacing the living room back and forth when there was a knock to your door.

"I love you." You snapped as soon as you opened the door for him.

"That would have been awkward if it wasn't me. What happened to hello?" Satoru laughed extending the bouquet of red roses in his hands to you.

"You fucking hung up on me before I could say it back and this has been hammering in my head ever since." you explained with a small shrug, cheeks going warm in spite of your attempt at nonchalance as you took the offered flowers to arrange them in a vase.

Satoru waited until you put the arrangement on the center of your dinning room table before his hands found your waist and he glued his chest you back.

"Say that again." his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his warm breath causing a shiver to go down your spine, your hands finding support on the table when your legs went weak.

"Say what exactly?"

"Don't tease me, sweets." His warm lips leisurely glided down, purposefully leaving butterfly kisses to the column of your throat. You gasped, head falling back against his shoulder leaving your neck open to his relentless assault.

"I l-love you, Satoru." You mumbled brokenly.

His grasp on your waist went impossibly tight, his breath stuttering and a low groan erupting from his chest.

"You have no idea what you do to me, sweets."

He sounded absolutely wrecked and the knowledge that you were the one causing Gojo Satoru to lose his cool made you throw you caution to the wind. You push your hips back against him and, sure enough, you can feel his hardness pressing into you.

"Hmm. I think I may have an idea." You crooned teasingly

"Brat!" He reward your taunt with a bite to the junction of your shoulder to your neck, immediately followed by his tongue lapping away at the harsh sting. "Have I mentioned how fucking stunning you look right now? I mean, you're always hot, but this look... I just wanna bend you over and fuck you right on this table."

"And what's stopping you?"

"I don't know, maybe the reservation I made for our dinner in 30 minutes." Even though Satoru tried to stop your advances, the way his hips kept lazily rocking against yours sent a different message. He nuzzled against your neck, inhaling the sweet perfume you sprayed just for him and mumbling something about how you smell good enough to eat under his breath.

"I can't think of a lot of things we can accomplish in 30 minutes."

"Ugh! You'll be the death of me. I'm trying to be responsible for once here!" He nearly whined.

You turned around in his grasp and had to crane your head to look into his eyes with the way he looms over you "Gojo. I don't need a fancy restaurant date. I think we're way past that anyway. I just need you."

He seemed conflicted, eyes searching yours through the dark sunglasses still perched to his nose.

"Please."

"Fuck it." Your last plea was all it took to break his resolve.

In a flash, Satoru had hoisted you up and sat you at the edge of the table, slotting himself in in between your parted legs and lips taking yours possessively, his tongue shoving itself into your mouth, savoring your taste. You opened up for him readily. His hands were wandering all over you, grabbing you like he owns you.

When you finally did part ways, you felt his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip and staring at the glistening skin in a daze for a moment before his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

"I wanna taste you. Will you let me taste you, sweets?" Satoru's hands found and toyed with the button to your pants, eyes begging silently for your assent.

You nodded mutely, throat suddenly dry.

The green light you gave was all the encouragement he needed to drop to his knees, finger dexterously popping open the button and sliding down the zipper before nearly pawing the offending piece of clothing down your legs. Satoru didn't have the patience to remove your boots, so the cloth remained bunched up at your ankles. He nibbled at the skin of your inner thigh, slowly inching closer to where you needed him the most.

"'toru!" You whined, letting yourself fall back against the table, head knocking loudly against the wood.

"What is it, sweets? What do you want."

"Touch me!"

"But I am touching you."

"You little- Aw!" You complained when he bit into your thigh as a warning, head lifting from the table to glare half-heartedly at the man in between your thighs.

"Watch it." Satoru alerted, a dangerous glint on his electric blue eyes.

"Ugh. Fine." You relented, not wanting to test him that night. You'd have plenty of time for that on other occasion. "Touch my pussy, Satoru."

"Have you no manners?" He rested his cheek against your thigh, his earlier rush hidden beneath his commitment to have you begging for him.

"Pleas- Oh my god!" You bellowed when he finally dove in, practically french kissing your pussy. His tongue easily found your clit, making random shapes against the bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars behind closed eyelids.

He moaned loudly and shamelessly when your hand found purchase on his soft white hair, encouraging you to pull harder as his own fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs.

Satoru let go of your hips to hitch your legs up, spread your thighs wider and then one of his hands roamed down until he's brushing your entrance, whining pathetically at the slick that gathered on the finger prodding at your hole. The muscles on your thighs tightened in response and you forced yourself up on your elbows so you could take the delicious show playing out down there.

His free hand reached underneath your sweater, slowly gliding upwards, finger teasing the edge of your bra while his mouth changed its path and traveled up and under your sweater, kissing, licking, nibbling at the skin of your tummy and ribs. The comical sight of his head disappearing beneath the warm fabric had a giggle bubbling up at his silliness, but the feeling of the pad of his thumb striking wet and sticky across your clit draws out a sound deep from your chest instead, something sweet and guttural that made Satoru wish he could record to hear over and over again.

Gojo pulled your bra down and didn't waste a second before taking one of your nipples in his warm mouth.

You were squirming as he pressed down on your clit just hard enough. A cry left your lips as the fingers of his other hand pinched your nipple.

His actions made it seem as if he's not sure where to touch first, like a man starved, Satoru needs to feel all of you. Without warning, both hands found the edge of your sweater pulling it up and off you.

"You're so hot." Satoru sounded winded, wide eyes traveling all over your body in awe.

"Toru. I need you, please." You begged, still supporting yourself on your elbows, but you felt like they might give out at any minute with how weak the man made you.

Satoru smirked deviously and you nearly regretted pleading with him, knowing he was scheming something.

"I Got you, sweets" was all he said before abruptly picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, hand smacking your ass with a resounding slap sound. Your shriek only making him laugh. "Let's move this to bed so I can fuck you into the mattress."

Soon you joined in on his laughter even as he jolts you around. Just as it has always been, Satoru has a way of making any moment with you lighter.

When you reached your bedroom he thoughtfully places you on the mattress, kneeling by the bed to help you with your boots and finally remove the pants and underwear that has still been stuck at your ankles.

Once you were completely bare you expected him to do the same, instead he passed you by and sat down against the headboard, patting his lap excitedly when you twist around to follow his movements.

"You're still too dressed, Toru." You frowned.

"Yeah, and? Come here before I make you, brat."

Even though you were unsure of what he had planned, you trusted Satoru enough to do as he told you to. You got up and walked around the bed, slightly sheepish at your stated of undress, but the astonished look on his face gave you enough confidence to move forward.

You went to sit on his lap, but Gojo is faster, hands picking you up by your waist and setting you down, knees on each side of his legs, so you have no choice but to settle your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance.

Satoru hummed in delight as he pushed you back and forth until you got the idea. You braced your hands against his chest, your hips taking up the rocking against his hard length through his dress pants, your bare slit dripping all over his bulge.

“That’s it, sweets,” Satoru grunted, eyes hungrily following your movement “Get yourself nice and wet and ready for me. Rub your sweet little cunt all over my cock.” At his urging, you rolled your hips harder, eyes falling closed as you took your pleasure from his body.  

Your knees spread even further so you could press down on him harder, your slick staining his pants.

When you opened your eyes, you found Satoru's blue stare already on you, an overjoyed smile etched onto his face.

"I'm gonna fuck you so deep you're gonna be feeling me for weeks."

You moaned at the dark promise, unconsciously speeding up your hips as your hands grasped the lapels of his shirt in tight fists.

"Does the thought turn you on, sweets?" His hips thrust up from below, forcing another moan from your lips.

“Oh god,” you moaned, letting your head loll back. But Satoru wasn’t having none of that. He brought his hand to your throat, tugging your head until you had no choice but to meet his blazing gaze.

"Hmmm... I wanna feel you, Toru." You sobbed, desperate for more. “I need it—I need you, please.”

In an instant, Satoru had pushed you onto your back, one of his hands pinning you to the bed by your throat as he forcefully snapped his hips against yours.

You reached up, yanking at the buttons of his shirt and pulling it free from his slacks with a hushed demand "off."

"I should have know you would be bossy even when underneath me." He chuckled, letting go of you momentarily to shrug off the shirt. Meanwhile, you went for his belt, deft fingers unbuckling it before unbuttoning and pulling the zipper on his pants down. "Eager much?"

"Satoru. We've been dancing around each other for years, you can't blame me for being impatient now."

"Trust me. I get it." He licked his lips, eyes damn near burning a path through your skin as his gaze travelled your form. "You have no idea how many times I've pictured you just like that, naked and wet for me."

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him bare. You watched intently as he hastily stood up to kick off his shoes before pushing his pants, underwear and socks down and throwing it all behind himself. Revealing corded thighs and a magnificent long, twitching cock, so big you were glad you were wet and ready for him.

A soft smirk played on your lips as he leaned over you, one knee between your legs, arms caging you in against the comforter.

He gripped his cock and rubbed the bulbous tip up and down your slit, teasing your clit and making you whimper. You rocked your hips up against his dick, trying to find the angle to take him inside you. When that didn’t work, you resorted to begging, whimpering, “I'm so empty. I need you inside me, please Toru."

"Yeah, want me to fill you up sweets?"

You nodded, tangling your legs behind him and attempting to draw him in. For once in your life, you cursed his superior strength, because he sure was having a great time making you desperate for his cock.

“Toru,” you cried on a gasp, your arms around his neck trying to pull him closer, trying to bury yourself inside his rib cage alongside his heart. "Please!”

"Since you asked so nicely..."

Satoru captured your lips, pouring his passion and desire for you into a searing kiss. As his lips slid against yours, he pressed the tip against your entrance. 

He drank down your sounds of pleasure as he pushed inside you, inch by inch. You broke away with a gasp when it became too much.

"You're taking me so well, sweets." He mumbled almost incoherently.

Brows knitted and thighs trembling, your eyes didn’t leave his as you basked in the shattering, yet sublimely pleasurable sensation, slowly allowing yourself to relax around him.

Gentle caresses to your tight nub made you feel like the smallest push could tip you over edge and into ecstasy. Tight circles that didn't relent until he could bury himself inside you entirely, the air getting punched out of your lungs.

"Fuck. So tight for me." Satoru remarked with a low moan at the feeling of your walls firmly hugging his dick. "You good?" He checked when you didn't say anything.

"Y-yeah. You can move."

It started off slow but worked up to a gentle but intense rhythm soon enough.

"You feel so fucking good." Satoru praised, one hand moving to hold onto your wrists and push them together against the bed above your head.

"Satoru. Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

"Don't worry." He rasped, "I don't plan to stop any time soon." timing the words with each frantic drive of his hips, gradually picking up speed until you felt his heavy sack slapped feverishly against you.

His girth stretched you out and filled you to the brink with each hard stroke until there were tears trickling down your cheeks.

"You crying?" Satoru quipped, peering down at you with a smirk.

You swore you would have slapped him if your hands weren't being held down by the very man torturing you with pleasure. You couldn't even respond, only unintelligible garble spilling past your lips.

"What? Have a fucked you dumb, sweets?"

Instead of allowing you time to recoup, Satoru gave into whatever restraint had been holding him back and lost himself in the pleasure of your warmth, thrusting with abandon. He just kept going until your moans turned into cries, the lewd and sloppy sonance of your coupling reverberating throughout the otherwise quiet room. His free hand rubbing at your clit and, too fast for your liking, sending your body straight to cloud nine. 

Satoru let his forehead rest against yours, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours while he rutted into your body.

The pleasure you felt so grand it had you trying to scoot away, but Satoru was unwavering in his foraging, "Nuh-uh, come back here." he mumbled dropping kiss after kiss to your lips.

"I-I can't. It's too much. Too bi-big!"

"You can do it, sweets. You're doing so-" He moaned, "good. You can give me one more. C'mon."

The grasp keeping your hands in place relented as his fingers extended, entwining with yours and making the experience that much more meaningful.

Your free hand went straight to his back, nails finding residence sliding down his back, a move which rewarded you with a hiss from the white haired sorcerer. Your legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs helped you meet him thrust for thrust, the two of you writhing together in a frenzy.

He looked at you like you were something meant to be cherished, his lips finding yours with wordless devotion, his tongue slipping into your mouth to slide against yours decadently, making your body thrum with pleasure.

It wasn't long before your eyes were rolling back into your skull and you sensed your thighs begin to tremble once more as you fell over the edge, white heat running through your veins and stars exploding in your vision. Satoru let go once he felt your walls fluttering widely against his cock and buried himself inside with a final thrust forward, warm ropes of cum painting your insides as he traded the firm motions of his thumb with a gentle bit of contact and, finally, halting it all to a complete standstill.

He fell forward, but still made sure not to completely smash you in a sweaty and jumbled pile. Your thighs were still quivering when Satoru slid out of you and turned the both of you around so you lied on top of him, his fingers brushing against the skin of your back soothingly.

"Holy fuck." it's all you can say at first.

"Second that."

And then you're both laughing breathlessly, because there's so much love and happiness and oxytocin laden in that moment that you just feel high on it.

"I can't believe we haven't done this before." Satoru chortled, dropping a tender kiss to your head. "How am I suppose to get anything done now?"

"Get your head out of the gutter!" You chastised half-heatedly "I need some time to recover in between sessions. Speaking of which... I'm kinda hungry right now. Is it too late for that reservation now?"

"By nearly two hours, I'd say."

"Whatever. We can just order in."

a/n: this was much harder than I thought it would be to write. How do smut writers do it regularly??

[harianaswhore]

⟡ cₕₐᵣₗₑₛ ₗₑcₗₑᵣc ₂ ⟡

NONE OF THESE ARE WRITTEN BY ME

ᵐʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᶜˢ ᶠ¹ ʳᵉᶜˢ

— ᶠᴸᵁᶠᶠ ⟡

baby me - @thepersonnamedsam

a dulcet evening - @f1daydreamers

orange theory - @forzalando

making movies out of memories - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

prettiest - @starlost97

sleepy endearment - @adventuringblind

study hard - @fastandcarlos

sentimental - @illicitlimerence-writes

matchmaker pets - @the-flaneur

beause it matters - @chlerc

something - @leclsrc

the moment divine (^)

name(s) of love - @kiwisa

birthday - @norrisleclercf1

pick me up? - @captainreecejames

your hand fits in mine (so cute, i'll sob) - @the-offside-rule

hungry for you - @writtenfangirl

call me by your name (^)

car's outside (^)

the prettiest star - @lovings4turn

— ᴬᴺᴳˢᵀ⟡

i'll look after you (tw: not eating, passing out, etc.) - @roostersgirlfriendlovesf1

forced - @imaginaryf1shots

wait for your love - @leclerc-hs

all i'm asking for is your time - @mariahcarreyyy

as long as he's here (mentions of death of parents) - @forzalayla

just a mother - @natwritesf1

all of me for you (dark stuff !!! and smut towards the end) - @annie115

flushed (!!!! spiking drinks !!!!)- @xxblairexxss

ashamed (^)

break in, breakdown (tw: house getting broken into) - @pucksandpower

be my sanctuary (tw: domestic violence & abuse) (^)

blue birthday - @coco-loco-nut

stalker (tw: injury, stalking, etc.) - @norrisleclercf1

lay all your love on me - @foreveralbon

— ˢᴹᵁᵀ⟡

like real people do - @monzabee

you're laughing (suggestive) - @scuderiahoney

one too many bites - @va1entinesg4l

something angelic - @agendabymooner

do i wanna know - @leclerc-hs

lose control - @hugleclerc

wine (alludes to smut) - @sinofwriting

giggles (^)

dangerous distraction - @thef1diary

so in love - @pierregazly

lazy sunday - @thelostconsultant

— ˢᴼᶜᴵᴬᴸ ᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬ ⟡

le temps de l'amour - @covenists

king of manifesting - @thisismeracing

dream girl - @lunavrse

wrong city - @captainreecejames

the short con - @planetpiastri

"you" in church - @slyscoutess

booktube - @edwardslvrr

that boy is mine - @imnameimswrld

the prettiest girl - @delewlew

i'm thirsty, refreshing - @5sospenguinqueen

needle little love (^)

best moments - @valstranquility

trophy husband - @thewispsings

monaco official - @lovemomhatepolice

self care queen - the original creator deactivated this is the reblogged version

baby alonso - @cockkette

notes - @hugleclerc

tease - @marlenesluv

espresso - @keerysfreckles

looked for stars and i found a supernova - @love-belle

modern day romeo and juliet (^)

— ˢᴱᴿᴵᴱˢ ⟡

something just like this two lay all your love on me - @imthebadguyyy

ferrari two - @chaostudee

a house, a home where do we go? you think, you know love will always show green eyes - @vetteltea

to live for the hope of it all two three (smau) - @pierregazly

secrets he'll keep ne quitte pas - @hey-kae

night after night one man warrior (smau) - @charles-eclair16

post race tension post breakfast tension post space tension post tension - @5sospenguinqueen

play pretend two (^)

slip up and i call you baby guess the heat drivers people crazy - @maxlarens

say don't go now that we don't talk suburban legends - @dannyriccsupremacy

archived what once was mardy bum - @leclsrc

[louisferrignojr]

i keep saying i'm not going to pay this show any more attention and I keep coming back with more thoughts and i decided to inflict them on all of y'all so here goes

hot take: the brad/hotshots storyline isn't inherently bad. it was entertaining. it was fun and campy, classic 911. i love it when shows get a bit meta. we stay sillay.

however it all falls completely flat, and here's why:

they butchered the main storylines they had set up at the end of s7 — Hen and Karen vs Ortiz (and Gerrard), the 118 vs Gerrard vs Tommy (don't play, they wrote it out with big block letters), Bobby's suicidal ideation, abrupt resignation and relationship conflict with Athena, not to mention NDE. the only storyline they seem to have spent any time on is Eddie and Chris — thank fucking fuck, some good food for Eddie.

they have disregarded previously established side characters in favour of developing Brad Torrence. where the fuck is Ravi? where's Sue, where's Linda? why is Josh only there as a mouthpiece to deliver a cringeworthy self-congratulatory speech praising Ryan Murphy's previous — and still DEEPLY biphobic — work?

the hotshots storyline of 8x07 and 8x08 should have taken place WAY later in the season: only after spending time giving their existing characters and relationships the focus they so sorely need.

Hen and Karen and their struggles with Mara being with Chimney and Maddie — where was the conflict between Hen and Chimney? blink and you miss it in 8x01. why was everything wrapped up so fucking quickly in 8x04? the pacing of that episode was INSANE. they could have drawn it out until the mid-season finale, and ended it on a positive note of Mara coming home.

Maddie and Chimney have had almost nothing all of 8a — what looked like a conversation about family planning, addressing their past issues, deciding to stick together and make it work this time, it was building up to something so good — and it crumbled before my eyes with the accidental pregnancy reveal. because we're dealing with teenagers who don't know how birth control works, not two grown adults in their 40s with a history of PPD. be so for fucking real.

and then: why bring back a homophobic, racist, sexist character, have him act EXACTLY like his old self — including throwing a subtle slur at his old subordinate who's just come out of the closet — and then reduce him to a cartoonish villain — did they perhaps realise that bringing back Gerrard was a big mistake? that no one wants to see this type of villain anymore? that his return undercut the justice of him getting fired by the LAFD for his bigoted behaviour? much to ponder.

Athena and Bobby nearly died, they lost their house in a fire (hello? ptsd flashbacks? no? okay.), then Athena nearly died AGAIN, but we don't need to linger on any of this. back to work, you two. Bobby, you get your firehouse back. Athena, back to doing bad cop shit, i guess. (they had a nice relationship moment with the house hunting and deciding to build etc in 8x04, and that's about it).

Buck had a consistent storyline between 8x01 - 8x04: struggling being under Gerrard, getting to work with Bobby again, and finally getting his captain back on a permanent basis. then we got 8x05 with Tommy — an episode dedicated on the intimacy and depth of their relationship — which they then completely fucked it up in 8x06. yes, the "past connection" reveal was a terribly done messy retcon of the entirety of s1 if you ask me, and a disservice to all three characters: Buck, Tommy, and Abby. the backlash from the GA following the breakup speaks for itself. but they then went to make a big joke of Buck coping with the breakup in 8x07 and 8x08. because we can't be serious about anything, ever. and again — I get it. it's the weewoo show. but don't tell me they haven't previously done well thought-out, touching storytelling. anyway, this got a little derailed because i'm still so fucking salty — the bottom line is, however they butchered Buck's storyline, at least he's had something meaningful.

the only other main that has had a meaningful storyline in 8a is Eddie. they've shown him struggling with being away from Christopher in almost every episode. i can't say i'm a big fan of the way 8x06 went for him (literally. enough with the movie references. tim minear have a fucking original thought for once). but I'm loving where his storyline is headed. that was a good 'cliffhanger' if you will. go back to your roots baby! go reconcile with your son — own up to your mistakes! talk to him about his mother! go to father-son therapy together! -> so much wishful thinking, y'all. we'd be lucky to get 1/10th of this on the show, but whatever.

tldr: no one gives a flying fuck about hotshots or brad because while we love the silly weewoo show, we need something to chew on before you toss us a half-baked dessert. to quote lou ferrigno jr, i am not satisfied.

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

I’m a transfem Christian, and sometimes I worry that I’m twisting Christianity to suit my politics and views rather than the reverse. I was raised as a Southern Baptist and left for the Episcopal Church, with the conservatism of the former church being a large reason for my departure. I really don’t want to have to chose between either being able to transition and being a good Christian, but I’m so worried that I’ll have to make that choice.

Hey there, I am so sorry for the delay in responding to this. I don't for a second believe you are "twisting" Christianity to suit your views by living into your true self:

Jesus tells us that we can know a thing by its fruit — if the fruit is good, the tree is good; if the fruit is bad, the tree is bad (Luke 6:43-45; Matthew 7:15-20).

What are the fruits of transition? Joy, community, reconnection with your own body? Life?

What are the fruits of the things preached by ultra conservative churches? Hatred, fear of difference, violence? Deportation instead of love of stranger, judgment instead of mercy, control via terror instead of liberation through God's love?

Near the end of this webpage of mine about a liberatory framework for reading scripture, I address the accusation that queer Christians are just "reading into" the Bible what we want to see. To sum it up, I agree that all people bring our biases to the text — heck, the biblical authors brought their own biases to the text!

“The truth is, you can bend Scripture to say just about anything you want it to say. You can bend it until it breaks. For those who count the Bible as sacred, interpretation is not a matter of whether to pick and choose, but how to pick and choose. We’re all selective. We all wrestle with how to interpret and apply the Bible in our lives. We all go to the text looking for something, and we all have a tendency to find it." - Rachel Held Evans

Many theologians say that when we accept both our own biases and the biases of the people who wrote, edited, and compiled the books of the Bible, the best way to determine what is Divine in scripture is to follow The Rule of Love:

"Any interpretation of scripture is wrong that shows indifference or contempt for any individual or group inside or outside the church. All right interpretations reflect the love of God...for all kinds of people everywhere, everyone included and no one excluded.”

- Shirley Guthrie

The webpage offers more details about this way of reading the Bible, if you are interested. But at the end of the day, the main thing I hope you can come to believe not only in your head but in your heart and your body is that you are beloved. That God created you exactly as you are with purpose and delight. That you have vital gifts to share with the world that the Body of Christ is not whole without.

If you need further assurance through theology, I invite you to check out Austen Hartke's Transgender and Christian YouTube series.

You may also find Rev. Nicole Garcia's story encouraging; she's a trans pastor who once said that she has experienced two vocations in life: one to ordained ministry, and one to being a woman.

God is calling you, too. I pray that you can feel Their presence and love in your life -- even when it's hard to believe in it yourself. <3

(For more, I have a trans tag and an affirmation tag and trans women tag and also an FAQ you might like to peruse through)

[myersesque]

ok. so. viktor is my favourite character in arcane. i am also physically disabled and hate the Magical Miracle Eugenics Disability Cure trope with a fiery passion. naturally i have a lot of opinions about where his character is going, but for now, here's a relatively simple one:

internalised ableism has always been part of viktor's character. he describes himself as "a poor cripple from the undercity" (yes, quoting how other people speak about him, but still); he shies away from the spotlight even when jayce encourages him; as a child, he directly acknowledges his disability as the reason other children don't associate with him.

i watched a video essay recently ("how arcane writes men" by schnee) that identified viktor's tendency to just suck it up and push through his problems rather than dwelling on them as a stereotypically masculine trait, which he is written to both subvert and lean into. whilst i agree with that to some extent, i think for viktor specifically it's more of an insight into a very common mindset for disabled people to have; a lot of us do not want to be pitied, and understand that acknowledging our hardships will often unfortunately lead to being treated as attention seeking. he doesn't dwell on things because he can't, unless he wants to be looked down on more than he already is; he's already had to fight to even be acknowledged as more than somebody's assistant, or respected as a zaunite living and working in piltover. i can't imagine he's keen to show any further "weakness"; he only ever cries when he's alone. it makes sense that he'd want to save himself rather than relying on anybody else.

the dangerous thought process of "fixing" people with the hexcore begins with that desire to save himself. at first he's just trying to stop his illness from killing him, but then he progresses to carving runes into his leg, seemingly in the interest of fixing his limp - which works, albeit temporarily. he seems aware enough of the implications of what he's doing to be somewhat ashamed of it (or, at the very least, enough to hide it from jayce). i've seen a lot of (mostly able bodied) people interpret the scene of him running down the pier as victorious, but it always felt bittersweet and scary to me; the dark, painful fantasy of "fixing" the thing the world has always looked down on you for, and the unsettling knowledge that you were never supposed to exist that way. a man experiencing a moment of joy only when he has detached himself from a core aspect of his being; self hatred disguised as progress. he only seems to register the horror of what he's doing when it kills sky.

it's not a leap to say that, with the hexcore dulling his emotions and blurring the lines of his ethical code, he would turn this externally. self loathing so insidious that he mistakes it for kindness and mercy and points the blade of it at the people he swore he'd help. before merging with the hexcore, he was desperate to destroy it and rid himself of its influence, hindered only by his physical inability to do so; under its control, he's seemingly lost all those inhibitions, wiped clean of his understanding of its danger. no longer "clouded by emotion", no longer human enough to know better, no longer suspicious of the arcane.

what viktor becomes in season 2 is, i believe, a hellish mix of his own internalised ableism and the hexcore's desperation to spread and survive. his genuine desire to help people has been warped into stripping people of their individualism, forcing them into some predetermined ideal in the name of healing (very "the empty child" from doctor who). it's his own character flaws mixed with the inhuman apathy of the hexcore. the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and also dressed up so nicely that you don't even realise you're headed downwards.

this is not what viktor stood for, but rather a perversion of his own insecurities, with a fresh coat of hexcore paint to stop him (or his followers) from scrutinising it too closely. they took the guy who dedicated his life to bettering humanity, and warped him into something doomed to destroy it.

(or something like that. idk. i haven't slept.)

[zigrethsnotebook]

HBU a Bill Cipher x reader about a reader who really likes being possessed by Bill Cipher so frequently is possessed by him

Inside you

Bill x Reader

words: 1,381

tags: sfw, whatever Bill has going on

a/n: didn’t know if you wanted this to be cute or not, might make a nsfw version one day if i feel like it

You were Ford's assistant, working with him and Fiddleford on the interdimensional portal. Even after the incident occurred and Fiddleford left the project, you and Ford pressed on.

Although, you weren't really in it for the portal or the science or whatever. You were way more interested in this muse of his. Bill Cipher. A triangle shaped entity, who had the ability to enter someone's mind if they agreed to it. Who could also haunt your dreams if you didn’t.

He didn’t have to haunt your dreams though, he was already a part of them. Even though seeing Ford with yellow eyes and no self-preservation instincts was a little scary, you couldn't help but imagine how nice it must feel to have Bill in your mind.

Just for once you wanted to lean back and let someone else do the work for you. The work being moving your body from room to room and so on.

One day, when he was in control of Ford's body, you breached the subject to him. "Ford doesn't like you running around in his body, you know that, right?" Bill just laughed in a garbled version of Ford's voice.

"Of course I know! That's part of the fun." You hummed. "But wouldn't it be more fun to actually share a body? With someone who won't resist? And if it's tormenting Ford you're after, think of what it would do to him to see someone else under your control."

Bill narrowed Ford's eyes at you, stepping closer. He was intrigued. "What are you suggesting?" You smirked at him. "A deal. You get to take my body for a spin... whenever. The only condition is that I don't want you to break my bones or leave me with an open wound or something."

He turned Ford's head, suspicion on their face. "And what exactly are you getting out of this?" You smiled and sighed dramatically. "To relax! I get to take some time off from having to work this meat prison." Bill laughed loudly.

"You're either crazy or the sanest human I've ever met. Either way, you got yourself a deal." Bill held Ford's hand out to you, a small blue flame surrounding it. You gladly took it and suddenly felt like you were falling, even though you didn’t move from your spot on the ground at all.

You were still holding Ford's hand as he sank in on himself, raising his other hand to his head. Meanwhile, you felt something change. A new presence in your own mind. "Let's see if I can make you regret this."

Ford's eyes raised up to your hands and then up to your face, terror spreading on his face. "Bill. What have you-" You interrupted him. "He hasn't done anything yet. So don't worry about it. Let's get back to work."

Ford eyed you suspiciously. It was your voice, your eyes weren't yellow... there was no sign of Bill being in control of your body. But he was gone from his own mind and that unsettled Ford greatly.

While Ford and you continued to work away at the portal, Bill was making himself comfortable in your mind, snooping around your memories and getting a picture of who you are as a person.

When he came across the section of your mind that held your dreams and he found himself in there, making you laugh or holding your hand gently... well, if he was human then he surely would have blushed at that. But he wasn't. And he certainly didn’t care about human emotions. Gross.

Eventually, you and Ford decided that you were done for the day (it was long past midnight) and started to pack up. Bill pulled you from the steering wheel, taking over your body. "Sixer." Ford looked up at him in horror.

"So you are inside them!" Bill waved him off. "Yeahyeahyeah, big surprise. Whatever. Where did you find this person? Their mind is... so clean and orderly. But their dreams..." His/Your voice trailed off, not actually wanting to tell Ford about your dreams. "We went to university together. Same as with Fiddleford." Bill nodded absentmindedly.

While Bill was hanging out with Ford, you laid back, enjoying your break. You quickly tuned their conversation out and instead took a stroll through your mind. It was a funny way of perceiving your own thoughts. Basically being able to walk in on them like they were little rooms scattered around your mind.

You got lost in your own mind but eventually were pulled back into reality as Bill took a step back. You found yourself in your bed, in your pyjamas. You didn’t even feel hungry.

The only thing that was a little off was the dull pain in your shoulder and knee. It felt like you had fallen down a flight of stairs. Bill had probably decided it was faster than to walk them. You ignored the pain and went to sleep.

The following days were much of the same: Working on the portal with Ford, occasionally letting Bill take charge to correct Ford on some equations or whatever. On your way out of the lab Bill would usually take over, taking your body for a spin.

Usually, you watched him do it, just see what he was up to. You saw him fling your body off of whatever ledge he could find that wouldn't harm your body too seriously. The deal you made clearly stated that he wasn't allowed to break your bones.

But it didn’t forbid him to get you a tattoo. It was simple enough. A heart with an arrow through it that just read "Bill", effectively claiming you as his. You didn’t mind though. Something about this triangle made you want his attention.

The fact that he went out of his way to brand you as his made you feel kind of special. Who else could say that about themselves? Well, Ford could, but you didn’t know that and Ford had no intention of telling you about it.

After a couple weeks of this, Bill got a little irritated with you. Inside your head, he sparked up a conversation. "Why doesn't this bother you? I actively harm you, your relationship with Ford and everyone around you. I branded you. What more will it take to get you upset?"

You laughed at him. "Shouldn’t you know? I thought you could read minds - what's stopping you?" Bill frowned, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Nothing! I looked! As far as I can tell you have never thought one single bad thing about me. That's nuts!"

You waved at him dismissively. "It's not. If you truly knew what it was like to be human you'd get it." Bill shook his head and floated closer to you, locking eyes. "Nuh-uh. Ford doesn't get it either. He's human, too!" You clicked your tongue. "Yeah, but he's also a giant baby."

Bill stared at you, not believing what he's hearing. He sighed and rubbed his eyebrow. Or his equivalent to an eyebrow anyway.

"There is something interesting I did find in your mind though." You just raised an eyebrow at him. "Why are you dreaming about you and me doing... coupley things together? From what Ford explained to me about human relationships, that's just gross."

You blushed at being called out like that but stood your ground. "Don't knock it 'til you've tried it." A beat of silence passed. Then Bill floated closer to you, his stare intense. "Kiss me then." You stared at him, shock written all over your face.

The problem was, you hadn't quite figured that part out yet. What, with him having no mouth and all. However, as he said that, something happened. Without your doing, a few doors to different thoughts flew open and things that looked like pieces of film tape floated out of them, surrounding you both.

They showed different ways you had fantasized about kissing that stupid triangle. As you realized what you saw you blushed even more, hiding your face in your hands.

Bill looked around you both and then back to you. Now this was something. This was amusing. Finally, he had found something to torment you with. Your own attraction to the triangle. Now the fun could begin.

[aychama]

G: YOU MOTHER FUCKER

The goat punched the other again. They were already bloody and bruised from fighting. Lambert backed, coughing up the blood.

G: What the FUCK were you thinking!? They gave you a purpose, a new start at life, you ungrateful piece of SHIT!

L: I know! And I also know that it would all end when they no longer needed us or found someone stupider to their work!

G: Bullshit. They promised-

L: PROMISED? Pfft ha-! Hahahaha!

Lambert laughed. They were laughing at the stupidity of the situation. Other one gritted their teeth, clenching their blood stained fists.

L: And you believed that? What did they promise you huh?

G: None of your business! Shamura proposed stuff they never did to other people! Once I get your head to him for what you did to them, to me, I'll have everything I want!

Goat tried to punch him again. This time, his wrist was caught by Lambert painfully, twisted and forced to get on the ground.

G: Gah-!

L: What did they promise you? Your safety? No longer having to worry about being hunted down? Or is the promise of giving you the crown once their times up? Come on... We're better than this!

The lamb said harshly. They knew every one of those lies. They weren't dumb.

L: You think someone as knowledgeable as Shamura doesn't know how to manipulate people like you? People like us? They are good at taking from the vulnerable, giving empty hopes with eye catching promises.

G: Fuck you.

Lambert let go of his wrist and took a few steps back. Goat looked at them curious and judgmentally

G: I don't believe you. You yourself are a manipulator. How the hell did you convince the red crown to lend you power?

L: I didn't... He gave it to me himself. But I'm not trying to convince you anyway. You don't have to believe me, follow me, help me... But to think I'd let you come in here and kill me is just ridiculous.

G: So what now? Do you expect me to just stop coming after you after what you did? People know me as someone that never let their prey ran off, can't risk that reputation.

L: No, I'm expecting anything from you. (It's a waste of time anyway) All I need is for you to think about this, make a choice and understand. Shamura is not someone you can trust.

G: I don't need to understand. Nor do I care if you can or not trust Shamura. In this world, people like you and me either do as told or become dinner. And, you're the main dinner they crave. Don't be stupid, Lambert.

L: (That's quite poetic actually) If Shamura wants to kill me, they can come and try for themselves, no need to get YOU involved. Tho, you said it yourself that you're doing this to be not on their bad side. If you're tired of being a vessel for their needs, this isn't the way to freedom... You will, NEVER get that by simply doing what they want.

G: Freedom? Ha! It's rich coming from you. Like you did any better! You betrayed Shamura for what? To be that damned cat's lap dog, to sit when says and stand when he wants. (Or maybe things I don't want to mentally imagine) You, put all your self respect, dignity and name aside to get toyed around by someone like him. Is this what you call "freedom"?

Goat walked towards them, making Lambert take a few steps back.

G: That's not freedom. Or maybe you want that. Maybe you make him think that he's in control to betray him later on. He was being nice after all. You love hurting the ones that help you the most, right?

L: Now you're just saying random words What? Is this some kind of way to make me feel bad? If there's a lap dog here, it's you. You don't get to act like you didn't do what ANYONE asked of you just to feel like you accomplished something worth mentioning! You can continue to obey Shamura and beg them to keep you afterwards but be aware that they'll put you back where they found you! I'm gonna do what I need to do to live my way, either with you or without you! So don't- ACK!

The goat launched at them, their hands around the other's throat. Goat didn't like those words, at all. The lamb choked, scratching the hands on their throat. Goat was angry, shaking as they watched the other struggle.

G: You think you can just backstab everyone who trusts you and don't face the consequences of it!? Like how you thought I'd forgive you, after you left me in that prison!? They caught you and I did everything to help you! And I waited, waited and waited for MONTHS! IS THAT YOUR FREEDOM!? You... Selfish... Ignorant... BASTARD!

Their heartbeat filled their ears, anger consuming the goat. The blood dripping from their nose hit Lambert's wool, joining the other's own stains.

G: You left me to die. And you dare to criticize what I do to survive!? If it wasn't for me, you'd be devoured whole in a feast! We did everything together! We helped each other out! But you!? It's only you! I trusted you!

Lambert stopped his struggle, instead looking up to their... friend. Maybe one of the worst things they've done. The only thing they regretted so far.

G: What did I ever do to you!?

The goat punched them again and again. But when they got no response, they let go

G: Answer me. Don't you have a snarky come back to that? Can't even deny that you are the worst fucking friend?

L: ...

They sat up, their lip busted and nose broken. The tension and the eye contact was too uncomfortable.

L: You're right. I did that. I am, a bad friend.

G: ...

L: You're not just here because of Shamura are you? You don't care about what they want or what they told you at all.

G: Yeah. I'm here because you're a piece of shit, a backstabbing manipulator and you owe me. Did you even tried to-

L: I did... I tried to help you out.

Upcoming tears already burned his eyes. Lambert took a deep breath.

L: Maybe I didn't try hard enough. I-I know it's no excuse but, but I tried... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... I know, I know it means so little to you and I know you don't want to hear me say it. With all this shit going on... When Shamura started to go out their way and what happened between me and the king... The things I felt and couldn't even understand at the Festival... What I had to do to prove myself, my worth and all the thoughts about not being good enough... for anyone. These aren't excuses. They shouldn't be... I was supposed to be there for you. But please believe me when I say this, I never wanted to hurt you. And if I loose you now, or already did, I would never forgive myself for making you feel like I didn't care...

Lambert was crying when he finished talking. They couldn't face the goat anymore. Years of friendship and they ruined it. The goat took a step forward. And another. Lambert assumed they'd left but...

G: (You crybaby)

The goat hugged them. So they hugged back. It was quiet for a moment... The the goat backed away.

G: If I knew you were this much of a loser... But hey. Neither of us are made in heaven. We're both shitty. And I rather be shitty with you.

L: You...

G: I'm still angry and fuck you, you know.

They smiled at Lambert, then sighed.

G: But who else do we have other than each other? So stop crying! (It makes you look uglier than you already are.) I'll forgive you for a while, aight? Cuz I know you'd miss me

L: Fuck you... Heh...

G: Same to you. So-!

The goat pulled the lamb to their feet

G: When are we killing this giant spider?

Awwww this is adorable!

Thank you for writing this it actually shows me how much I have or haven't shared about my story so far and gosh its a lot djkfllf

And gosh Lambert just taking the punches from Goat, ouch

I love the back and forth the two have here and Goat being promised stuff from Shamura is a nice touch!

Goat calling Lambert a crybaby is so cute xD and I adore the hug ❤️

[marzipanandminutiae]

I do think one very interesting thing about not getting that stitcher job in the costume workshop is that it highlights the different types of sewing out there

I can sew. I can produce wearable garments. I have and I do and I usually have at least one project on the make at any given time

but

I only sew for myself, so I've never really had comprehensive training in a wide variety of diverse techniques. I know what I need to know to make my own clothing. if a project requires a technique, I learn it; if I never need it, it's not in my skill-set

how did I get to be a 31-year-old accomplished hobbyist dressmaker whose wardrobe is largely self-made, and not know how to do French seams until a week ago? simple. I never needed to know

I also make historical clothing, specifically mid-late Victorian, which was a HUGE proponent of Good Enough as far as construction goes. does it look good? will it hold together for its purpose? is it as comfortable as it's supposed to be? if so, the rest is unimportant. you had a lot of people producing garments with limited machine-sewing functions, who were being paid by the piece and whose clients expected the fastest turnaround possible- corners were going to be cut

speaking of machines...I don't really know what to do with them. I can Make Machine Go Forward and Back and that's really about it. my sewing knowledge is all gleaned from an era where machine-finishing was almost exclusively for underwear, because stitches weren't supposed to show on the outside. and I don't usually make my own shifts, combinations, or petticoats. I also prefer hand-finished buttonholes because doing buttonholes is satisfying and you have greater control over placement. so machine-finishing is largely a closed book to me

being picked out of the crowd on the street like that by the shop manager was exciting and very flattering. but I do think it highlights the fact that, just because someone can produce wearable garments, doesn't mean their skills are transferrable to another sewing arena with different needs

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Not so mean and scary

Did someone ask for a Steddissy fic to this? Here it is!

All that craziness happened right before the Christmas break, so Eddie was grateful to squirrel himself away inside his trailer to hide from people and even more grateful that he got to escape by driving Dustin to his science fair in Indianapolis. Hopefully, everyone had time to cool down. When he pulled up to the school, he found Jeff waiting for him in his normal spot. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking awkward.

"Hey," Jeff said.

"Hey," Eddie said.

"I'm sorry I'm never told you," Jeff said.

"What? That you're attracted to me?" Eddie scoffed. "I didn't judge you when you told us you're gay, but I'm definitely judging you for your taste in men, so that might have been a good call."

"Fuck off, asshole!" Jeff laughed. "I definitely want to fuck you, but date you? Nah, you're too much of a mess for me."

"Dick!" Eddie laughed. "At least, things haven't changed in that aspect. . .please, tell me things have gotten back to normal."

"Wish I could, man, but it's now socially acceptable to like Eddie Munson: platonically, romantically, and sexually. You've opened up the floodgates to self-acceptance," Jeff shrugged.

"The jocks did that," Eddie scowled.

"Yeah, but they wouldn't have if they hadn't been inspired by you to stand up to Jason and his friends," Jeff pointed out.

"Gah!" Eddie yelled. "I'm mean and scary, Jeff! Mean and scary!"

"Not anymore, man. Now, it's Jason and his friends who are the freaks," he replied. "Higgins is pissed."

"Of course, he is. He's always been out to push people like us out of school," he rolled his eyes. "Alright, I guess I should face the music. . .nope, nope, I can't!"

"Be a big boy, Eddie," Jeff laughed as he pushed him.

Eddie walked past people, and so far, everything seemed great. No one was paying any attention to him, focused on trying to walk on the still icy concrete. Until. . .a guy whose name he didn't know cheerfully waved at him. A shiny rainbow pin was fastened to his coat. Eddie screamed as the guy gave him another friendly wave before walking off. Jeff rolled his eyes before clapping his hands onto Eddie's shoulders and steering him into the school. He moved through the hallway, passing by people who waved at him. Some of them had rainbow pins, and some of them didn't. Eddie didn't get that one. He thought he managed to find someone who was still afraid of them when he jumped out at someone, and he jumped. Eddie started to grin until the guy laughed, slapping Eddie's arm.

"Oh, Eddie, man, you're hilarious," he said.

"No, I'm scary!" Eddie shrieked.

"I used to think that but I was just scared of how I felt. . .oh, someone works out," the man said as he squeezed Eddie's arm. "Can't believe I ever thought I was into women."

Jeff clapped a hand over his mouth and pulled him away from the guy before Eddie could scream again. Just as they were about to approach Eddie's locker, they ran into Steve Harrington. Jeff removed his hand.

"Hey, Munson, how are you handling your newfound fame?" Steve asked.

"I do NOT want you caress my bicep," Eddie said.

"I wasn't going to," Steve laughed. "I wouldn't touch you unless you wanted me, too."

"I like women," Eddie scowled.

"Yeah, so do I," Steve said, winking at him.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, I decided to come back to school just to flirt with you," Steve said, and Eddie scoffed, blushing. "Nah, I was dropping off Dustin his lunch. He forgot it in my car. By the way, thank you for taking Dustin to the science fair. I kind of wish I had gone with you guys instead of going on that date. It would have been a lot more fun."

"Uh. . .you're welcome, I guess," Eddie said and tried to control his rapidly beating heart.

"Steve Harrington, don't you have a low paying menial job to go back to?" Chrissy asked from behind him.

"Chrissy Cunningham, I thought we were friends," Steve said.

"We are, but we're also competition now," Chrissy said.

"Ah. . .Do you like Eddie, too?" Steve asked.

"Ever since middle school," Chrissy said.

"You remember that?" Eddie asked.

"Corroded Coffin, how could I forget?" Chrissy asked.

"Kind of thought you got swallowed up by high school and popularity," Eddie said.

"I did," Chrissy said. "I'm back, now. I like your hair."

"Yeah, me too. It's definitely better than the shaved look," Eddie said, grinning. "Also, I got these sweet tatties now."

Eddie pulled his shirt down to reveal two tattoos on his chest. Chrissy bit her lip and reached over to trace the tattoos with her finger tips.

"Sexy," Chrissy said in a husky voice.

"Y-yeah?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, yeah," Chrissy said. "I should get to class. It's good catching up with you, Eddie. Steve, you really need to step up your game. Eddie. . .balls in your court."

Eddie clutched his chest and collapsed against the lockers, staring after her.

"Damn," Eddie and Steve said.

"Yeah, I guess I do have to step up my game," Steve said and winked at Eddie. "Good luck with all this."

Steve walked away, swinging his hips as he did so. Eddie's eyes zeroed in on his ass.

"I like women!" Eddie yelled.

"So do I!" Steve yelled back.

"Why do you keep saying that?!" Eddie shrieked and Steve laughed as he exited the school.

"Man, you do you realize you can like both?" Jeff asked.

"What?! No!" Eddie yelled, and then he grabbed Jeff by the front of his shirt. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you knew," Jeff said with wide eyes.

"Was it just me, or were Chrissy Cunningham and Steve Harrington. . ." Eddie trailed off.

"Vying for your affection, yeah," Jeff replied.

"Hmm, whoever shall I choose?" Eddie cackled. "Who shall win the hand of one Eddie Munson?"

"Eddie, you still got me by the shirt," Jeff said.

"Oh, sorry."

"No, problem."

While Eddie had once been freaked out by the fact that people now liked him, he realized that it gave people to be more free to be themselves in the hallway. He did yelp when he found two jocks making out against the lockers, and then he grinned before moving on. Maybe it did have something to do with him constantly standing up to people, letting his own freak flag fly, but maybe it also had something to do with all freak occurrences that happened in Hawkins specifically the fire at Starcourt mall. Maybe they realized that life was too short. Eddie moved through the school, greeting his people through the halls with a wave and very melodramatic, Renaissance style greetings. He still felt like he was dreaming, especially knowing that Chrissy and Steve were planning to woo him.

"Pssst, Wheeler," Eddie hissed, peeking through the door of the nearly empty newspaper room.

"Eddie?" Nancy asked. "You're allowed to enter."

"Oh good, I wasn't sure," Eddie said and moved to sprawl across her desk.

"But you're not allowed to do that," Nancy said.

"So, what is Steve’s deal?" Eddie asked, raising his eyebrow. "Or do you know?"

"Are you asking about what he likes?" Nancy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean. . .kinda, sorta," he said.

"Yeah, I know he's bisexual. He told me when we were dating," Nancy said.

"What should I expect with him trying to woo me?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, he was always really good at finding what you like, letting you tell him what you need even when you can't say it," Nancy said. "And he likes taking care of people even if he complains about it a lot. And he loves holding hands. You never really know what to expect because he's full of surprises."

"Has he ever been wooed?" Eddie asked.

Nancy frowned at him as she thought about it.

"You know, I don't think he has," Nancy said.

"Knowing Carver, I don't think Chrissy has either," Eddie frowned. "Not really."

"Steve and Chrissy?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah," Eddie said, flashing his dimples. "They both want me. I'm sorry to say, Wheeler, that my dance card is all full up."

"Just because I find you attractive doesn't mean that I want to actually do anything about it," Nancy replied.

"You and Jeff. . .honestly," Eddie grinned. "Anyway, I have got planning to do! See ya."

Eddie made his way stealthily through the library before finding the stacks of yearbooks. He pulled one from 85 and opened. He flipped between one page and then to another. Back and forth. Back and forth.

"Which one?" Eddie hissed as he looked at Steve and Chrissy's yearbook photos. "I don't have enough information to decide."

"What are you doing, Eddie?" Dustin asked as he suddenly popped his head through the shelf right next to Eddie's head.

Eddie shrieked and clutched his chest. He turned and glared at his protege.

"You butthead, Henderson," Eddie gasped.

"Seriously, what are you doing?" Dustin asked.

"Hold on, let me stop my heart from, oh, I don't know, JUMPING OUT OF MY FUCKING CHEST!" Eddie yelled.

"Quiet!" The librarian yelled.

"Don't be so dramatic," Dustin said, rolling as his eyes as he plopped down next to him on the floor. "It's not like I'm a duck."

"A duck?! Where?!" Eddie asked, whipping his head around fearfully.

"Eddie, why would a duck be in a library?!" He asked in exasperation.

"Because ducks are evil, and I'm pretty sure they're plotting to take over the world," Eddie said. "And a library is a good place to start."

"What are you doing?" Dustin asked again.

"Trying to make a decision," Eddie sighed.

"Between Steve and Chrissy Cunningham?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah," Eddie sighed.

"Why do you have to choose one?" Dustin asked.

"Well, because otherwise I'd be leading them on," Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Why not date both of them if they're okay with it?" He asked.

"Listen, just because I happen to like both men and women does not mean I have to date both," he replied.

"No, but you want to, and isn't that the important thing here. . .that everyone involved wants to?" Dustin asked.

"You might have a point," Eddie said thoughtfully.

"I do have a point," Dustin said. "You have overturned this school in like a day, turned it into like a safe haven, so I think you can definitely date two people if you wanted to."

"Never change, Henderson!" Eddie yelled as he jumped up.

"I wasn't planning on it!" Dustin yelled. "Are you planning on going to lunch?! Lucas is actually going to sit with us for once!"

"I'll be there!"

"Quiet! This is a library for Pete's sake!"

Eddie skidded to a halt outside the window to the classroom that Robin Buckley was sitting in. At some point today, Eddie was planning on going to class, but right now, he was too busy. He cracked open the window, and to his amusement, Robin was right by it and fast asleep with her cheek pressed against her arm. Eddie pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and threw it at Robin. She sat up, wiping her face, and she scowled at Eddie.

"What the hell are you doing, Munson?" Robin asked.

"What kind of flowers does Steve like?" Eddie asked.

"Why do you want to know?" Robin asked.

"I want to see if he wants to open a flower shop together," Eddie said.

"Really?" Robin asked.

"No! I want to woo the fuck out of him!" Eddie hissed.

"Well, it's not totally far-fetched. Steve would actually like that, though. Ooh, a jock and a metalhead opening a flower shop together then falling in love? Oh, the story just writes itself," Robin said.

"Robin, focus - ooh, we could call the shop - no, no, focus!" Eddie exclaimed, shaking his head.

"Maybe not a flower shop because Steve doesn't really get the idea of giving people decapitated dead things as gifts. Ooh, baking - you could bake him something! You could open a bakery with him!" Robin said.

"Okay, are you or are you not his best friend in the entire world? I mean, that's the word on the street," Eddie hissed. "Help me out here! I can't bake for the life of me!"

"I really don't need to. You've basically been wooing him without even knowing about it," Robin said. "Despite his complaining, he loves those kids, especially Dustin and the fact that you were with them, giving them a safe place to belong. . .it meant a lot to him."

"Got it. He basically wants a baby daddy. . .a partner," Eddie said. "Someone who cares about those kids as much as he does while also being able to knock their egos down a notch. I swear the tone on Dustin. . ."

"Yeah, basically, and he doesn't say it but I know he wishes he just has someone to take care of him, you know?" Robin said. "Unlike his shitty parents."

"You know, I always thought people like him had it easy," Eddie said. "But seeing all of this, even knowing what they've called me, they struggle just as much as we do."

"You know, Steve, when he called you freak, out of sheer ignorance, he thought it was a nickname like when people called him the Hair," Robin said.

"He doesn't know that people were calling him that to be mean?" Eddie asked.

"No," Robin said.

"Miss Buckley! Mr. Munson! Is my lesson getting in the way of your conversation?!" The teacher yelled.

"Oh, absolutely not, Mrs. D! How's the arthritis?" Eddie asked cheerfully.

"Get to class!"

"Right!"

Okay, he was for sure going to class after lunch, but this time, he really needed to talk to Chrissy's cousin, Vickie. It was the last period before lunch, so he really needed to talk to her. The girl in her math class had said she was in the bathroom. Eddie skidded down the hallway and came to a stop.

"Nope, can't go in there, I am a gentleman-ish. Well, I do have boundaries," Eddie said and leaned against the lockers to wait.

There was no one else in the hallway, and from what it sounded like to Eddie, there wasn't anyone else in the bathroom except for Vickie. He could hear her talking to herself, and it was very likely that she was talking to her reflection.

"Oh. I should tell her. I should definitely tell her. Oh, but I can't. . .what if she doesn't like me at all or women?! What if she's not okay with it. I mean, there does still seem to be people who don't agree with all of this, and what if this is just a freak accident? Like, maybe someone put something in the water or there's a gas leak? Maybe we're all having the same hallucination. . .no, that's crazy. Just as crazy as me telling Robin I like her. I mean, I tell her that I like her, and everyone snaps out of it before going back to normal. Maybe it would be safer going back to Dan. . .no, no, he's a dick! Oh, but he's so good with his hands, terrible with his mouth. Oh, what if she does like me and she dumps me because I'm so bad at sex?! That's crazy, Robin isn't like that, but how would I know? How do you even have sex with women? Where do you - oh, God, sex with Robin - ugh, I should have gone to that gay bar in Indie everyone went to over break - oh, Robin's boobs!"

Eddie couldn't help it. He let out a laugh. Eddie quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. It was too late, though. The door opened, and Vickie poked her head out the door.

"I heard nothing!" Eddie exclaimed.

"So, you heard everything," Vickie laughed.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop," Eddie said. "Someone in your math class told me you were going to the bathroom, and I swear I wasn't going to follow you in there. I was just going to wait out here until I could get your opinion on something."

"Okay, and that would be?" Vickie asked.

"How close are you with your cousin, Chrissy?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, she's my best friend," Vickie asked.

"Great, I need more information," Eddie said. "Not all of it, of course, because I do plan on getting to know her on my own, but I do need some information to surprise her with when I woo her because I also don't want to accidentally offend her."

"Woo her?" Vickie asked.

"I plan on wooing her and Steve Harrington before they can woo me," Eddie said. "I'm going to win their little competition and they don't even know that I'm playing."

"Technically, haven't they already been wooed if they're trying to woo you?" Vickie asked.

"Semantics!" Eddie exclaimed. "Let's retire that word because I have said and heard it too many times today."

"Well, the fact that you're showing any actual interest in her is definitely a step up from Jason and that you're trying to find out what she likes," Vickie said.

"She deserves that," Eddie said.

"Oh, definitely," she said and smiled softly at him. "Well, she doesn't like flowers because she's never really understood getting dead things as gifts, but she loves chocolates. . .specifically, chocolate covered strawberries."

"Man, that's Steve and Chrissy both. What's up with them and flowers?" Eddie asked.

"Maybe it's something to do with ripping flowers from their home and people using them to make their homes pretty, but then once they served their purpose, they're tossed aside?" Vickie asked.

"So, they represent how they themselves are used and then tossed aside?" Eddie asked and frowned. "Damn. That's fucking deep. I'm going to be thinking about that one. Think, Munson, think! Oh, I got it!"

"Mr. Munson!"

"Oh, hey, Mrs. D, I am just seeing you everywhere today. . .may I just say that you are wearing a lovely shade of purple! It suits you!"

"Get. To. Class."

"I. Am. Trying."

Eddie did, actually, attend lunch and the rest of his classes. Being distracted by Chrissy and Steve pulled his attention away from everyone being nice to him all of a sudden. It helped, especially when Chrissy flirted with him with her eyes across the cafeteria. He did the same, leaning his elbow in Dustin's applesauce as he batted his eyelashes and hid behind his hair. A few minutes later, Robin came back into the cafeteria and held up a sign:

Steve agreed to pay me $50 to do this. He also agreed to do the same if I needed it. This is from Steve.

Robin leaned forward and gave Eddie her best comehither look before running her hands through her hair, winking at Eddie and shooting him finger guns. He had laughed in delight and ended up knocking Dustin's applesauce into his lap. Chrissy was scowling at Robin, but she was also trying not to smile.

"This is only going to get worse when you guys actually start dating, isn't it?" Dustin asked with a sigh.

"Oh, yeah."

Finally, after school, Eddie managed to convince the theater arts teacher to let him use the drama room for what he had planned to do. Had it really only been a day? He had realized that as he sat on his throne with a robe thrown over him and the hood over his eyes, waiting for his prey. Finally, the doors opened, and he grinned when he heard their voices.

"You can't just call dibs on a person, Christine!" Steve exclaimed. "Especially when it's because you saw him first!"

"Why the hell not, Steven?" Chrissy asked.

"Because it's childish!" Steve yelled.

"Well, it seems like it's right up Eddie's alley!" Chrissy exclaimed.

To his amusement, they had yet to notice Eddie sitting on his throne.

"Why were we told to come here, anyway? I don't see Eddie at all," Steve said with his hands on his hips.

The lights flickered on above Eddie, revealing himself. A horn behind him started to play.

"Robin?" He asked, squinting at the light and Eddie smiled.

"Tis I, Edward Munson, your one true love!" Eddie burst out in dungeon master voice. "I have decided to bring this competition to an end. I have had many offers and many favors, but it has come down to the two of you - "

"Oh, man, you're not going to make us fight to the death, are you?" Steve asked.

"Ooh! I can totally take Steve," Chrissy said, cheerfully.

She dropped her bag and rolled up her sleeves. She raised her fists and started bouncing around Steve, her ponytail bouncing with her. Eddie bent over laughing. God, she was so fucking cute. Clearly, Steve thought so, too.

"Alright, stop that," Eddie said, dropping his voice for a moment.

"So, you already made a decision? Seems pretty quick. We didn't get to enjoy the chase," Steve said.

"Yeah, I was looking forward to seeing what Steve would bring to the table, but I'm looking forward to your answer," Chrissy said, and then she gasped in realization. "Steve. . ."

"What?"

"Do you think that Eddie might be naked under his robe?" Chrissy asked, giggling.

"Oh, I did not think about that," Steve said and then he grinned. "But now I am."

"That's not what - No, I am not - !" Eddie shrieked.

"Eddie Munson, you better not be naked under your robes!" Robin yelled from the back.

"Robin?" Vickie asked.

"Vickie? Where are you?" Robin asked.

"I'm manning the lights!" Vickie asked cheerfully.

"How did you get involved?" Robin asked.

"Oh, Chrissy's my cousin, and he said he wanted to do something nice for her, so I agreed," Vickie said. "What about you?"

"Oh, Steve’s my platonic soulmate, and Eddie said he wanted to do something nice for him," Robin said.

"Oooh! Do you think that he's choosing both of them?!" Vickie asked.

"We can hear you and you just ruined the big reveal!" Eddie shrieked.

"Yell at her again, and I'll beat you with my instrument, Munson!" Robin yelled.

"Sorry, Vickie!" Eddie rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry, too!" Vickie exclaimed.

"It wasn't going well, anyway," Eddie sighed and leaped from the throne, standing in front of both of them. "I've completely forgotten where I was going with this."

"I did tell you to write it down," Vickie said gently.

"You did, you did," Eddie said, then focused on them. "I have something for you guys. . .it's in my pants. Hold on!"

"Yeah, I bet you do," Chrissy said and giggled with Steve.

"Okay. . .so maybe I didn't think this all the way through," Eddie said.

"Eddie! You idiot!" Robin yelled.

"You want to get some coffee and leave these guys to it?" Vickie asked.

"Oh, yeah, definitely. . .you need help getting down from there?" Robin asked.

"Please. . .," Vickie said, and then she giggled. "Are you going to let go of me any time soon?"

"Uh, yeah, right!"

". . .unless you don't want to, then I'm okay with that."

Robin and Vickie burst out the curtains, rushing towards the door. Robin's arm was secured around Vickie's waist.

"See ya, Steve, don't pregnant!" Robin exclaimed.

"You see what I'm dealing with! I can't make any promises!"

"Slut!" Robin yelled.

"Whore!" Steve yelled back.

"Oh my god!" Vickie laughed.

"It's okay. Those are the nick names we chose for each of her. We picked them out of a hat," Robin replied. "It's all with affection."

"Anyway," Eddie said as he tried to remember what was going on. "Right! Uh, I had this big speech and story, but now. .the rocks are for you. I painted them your favorite colors. I was told you didn't like to be given dead things, so. . . rocks!"

"My favorite colors. . .pink and blue," Chrissy muttered.

"Pink and yellow. . .you talked to Robin and Vickie, didn't you?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Eddie said. "I don't know if that's weird or stalkerish. . .I've never been a boyfriend before, let alone to two people."

Chrissy surged forward and kissed him. Eddie responded eagerly, wrapping his hands around her. He really couldn't stop it. . .he was a big bad metalhead. He wasn't supposed to make sounds like this. Eddie giggled delightfully against her lips. Chrissy pulled back, beaming, wiping away her lipstick with her thumb. She stepped back and let Steve take her place. He cupped Eddie's face and pulled him in for a kiss. Eddie's knees were already shaking from Chrissy's kiss, but when Steve kissed him, they couldn't hold him up anymore. Eddie's legs gave away, and Steve wrapped his arms around his waist to support him. Steve broke the kiss, still holding Eddie.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked.

"Where am I?" Eddie asked, and then he shook his head. "Am I dead? I mean, I'm fine!"

"You swooned, Eddie," Chrissy giggled.

"I did not!" Eddie shrieked.

"You totally swooned," Steve said.

Chrissy let out another giggle and kissed Steve.

"Definitely swoonworthy," Chrissy said.

"His knees were already shaking, babe," Steve said.

"You know, I don't know what's harder to believe that I have a type or that my type actually likes me," Eddie said with a sigh.

"I don't know why it's so surprising. . .considering that I once tried to join Hellfire myself once upon a time," Steve said, tucking a hair behind Eddie's ear.

"You did?" Chrissy asked.

"Oh. . .wait, you were serious about that? I thought you were fucking with me when you asked to join," Eddie said.

"I was just a young freshman who thought the guy in charge of the club was really cute," Steve said.

"Oh fuck, I was a total asshole to you," Eddie groaned.

"I totally get why you thought that, though. People like me, like us, didn't really help matters. Hey, you changed that. It took a lot of work, but you turned things around here," Steve said.

"You could ask to join again, I might have a different answer for you this time," he said, blushing.

"Nah, I only play with Dustin, Erica, and Robin. . .it's sort of a Scoops Troops thing. It's hard to explain," Steve said.

"Right, Starcourt," Eddie said, nodding.

"I think it's okay, you know, to have different interests, I think it's only truly important how you deal with them. Going a long way to respect the differences, I think, it shows that you kind of just want to be seen as a person," Steve said. "If makes any sense."

"That makes perfect sense, big boy," Eddie said, showing his dimples. "And you two are really okay with this?"

"More than okay," Chrissy said as she wrapped her arms around the both of them.

TWO WEEKS LATER. . .

Eddie grinned as he climbed up on the table, and he looked down at everyone. He was right, everyone who had different interests. . .they just want to be seen as people. He could see them now, now that they were no longer pretending to hate them. . .they were just trying to get by just like he was.

"Announcement, ladies, gentlemen, and. . .still undecided! I would like to formally declare that I, Eddie Munson, am officially off the market!" He yelled.

There were several cheers and groans of disappointment all throughout the cafeteria. There were also plenty of people who just did not care.

"But I realized that I was gay because of you!" Connor exclaimed.

"Connor, if you would look to your left, you'll realize that there is someone better and clearly more interested than I am," Eddie grinned.

"Patrick, is that true?" Connor asked.

"It's always been you, man," Patrick said.

"I just - I never wanted to assume - ,"

Patrick pulled Connor into a kiss. Connor didn't hesitate and returned the kiss.

"AWWW!"

"This is disgusting!" Jason yelled, standing up. "You're all going to - "

Suddenly, a basketball flew past and hit Jason in the face.

"Oh, man, I really have to work on my aim," a player said.

Eddie laughed and slid back into his chair next to Chrissy.

"Eddie, man, where's your - oh, nevermind," Jeff grinned.

Steve made his way over to the table, a visitor's pass sticker on his chest. In his hand was Eddie's vest.

"Hey, Steve!" Dustin exclaimed. "I didn't leave my lunch in your car again, it's right here!"

"No, I'm here for Eddie. He left his vest in my car," Steve said. "He called and said it was urgent."

Eddie grinned and made grabby hands for the vest. Steve handed it over to him when a third chair appeared between Chrissy and Eddie. He yanked Steve down into it.

"It wasn't as quite as urgent as I made it sound," Eddie grinned.

"You tricked me," Steve said.

"So, I wanted to have lunch with my boyfriend and girlfriend," Eddie said. "Sue me."

Steve smiled and kissed Eddie on the cheek. He turned to Chrissy and gave her a kiss on the lips.

"Hi," Chrissy giggled.

"Hey! How come she gets a kiss on the lips?" Eddie scowled.

"Because she didn't trick me to get me here," Steve said.

"Worth it," Eddie grinned and slid down so he could tuck his head into the crook of Steve’s neck as Chrissy slid her legs over Steve’s.

It was crazy how things changed. One minute, he was just as scared of jocks as they were of him, but it turns out. . .not so mean and scary as Eddie thought.

[miss-tc-nova]

With Reckless Choices - Leona Kingscholar x Reader Pt 5

Yes, I'm aware my premise descriptions suck. I don't know how to write these things without giving away the whole damn plot. Sorry.

Premise: Leona exposes some weak points

Words: 1,951

Music Inspirations: Forget You Now - Big Time Rush

~~~The Consequences of Petty~~~

               Fists clench tight enough they might draw blood, not that I care. Right now, the only thing that matters is getting as far as I can away from the royalty. It takes every shred of self-control I have not to fly through the halls and slam my bedroom door behind me, but I manage. Though the lock clicks harshly.

               Immediately, my hands reach beneath the mattress for my phone, his face lighting up the lockscreen. Even as the words blur in my sight, I tap away.

               Instant regret sets in. I shouldn’t have sent those. However, before I have any chance of taking back my tantrum, I see the dots pending a response.

               I really shouldn’t have done that, but it’s too late to take it back now. Pacing the room, I scramble to compose my frustration. But even as I do, another message comes.

               He’s in the midst of typing more, but I do as he asks.

               I know it’s not, yet I still have responsibilities. But I’ve also crossed a line that’s not easy to take back. The tears won’t stop dripping and the anger bubbling in my chest brings about pathetic hiccups.

               Magic easily whisks me far away from my offenders, granting me instant access to the room of my lion. Immediately, I plop onto his bed, trying to focus on his remnant scent rather than the events leading to my impromptu visit.

               Then Leona arrives, door nearly slamming shut and the lock taking hold.

               “What happened?” Straight to the point.

               I groan at the trouble I’ve cause. Wiping my face feels futile but I hate to have him see me like this. “It’s nothing. I just felt a little overwhelmed at the fitting and got put in my place. Honestly, by now one would think I’d be used to how they treat me.”

               In my best efforts, I put on a smile. Leona does not return the sentiment. Instead, anger seethes off him. Reaching out, I let the man pull me back on my feet. He’s suspiciously quiet, but lets me step into his arms to hide my face and quell my resentment.

               The next few hours pass in much better company. I dwell not on what happened but on this moment with Leona and, soon enough we’re up to our usual catty antics.

               A hand lifts to cover my mouth as I laugh. “Active reform isn’t a term I would immediately associate with you. Sorry Leo.”

               “Yeah yeah.”

               His chin rests on my shoulder. Above Sunrise City, Leona and I peer across the night-addled capital of his country. From the balcony of his room, the wondrous city of civilization and wilderness begins to settle as lights set aglow across the land. It’s so vastly different from my own, but perhaps that’s why I find it so intriguing.

               “But hell, Kifaji keeps riding me about making myself useful as a member of the royal family, then immediately shuts down whatever I say.”

               “Well stuff that crochety old bird.” I love that baritone laugh in my ear. “I think you’d make a decent king.”

               “’Decent?’”

               It’s my turn to laugh. “Come now. You know you need someone to temper that ego of yours. Or at the very least convince you to get out of bed.”

               “Oh yeah? And I bet you think that someone’s you, right?”

               I can’t fight the smile on my lips.

               His head bumps against mine. “Now who’s got an ego?”

               “Probably still you.” Reflexively, I lean into his affection. “But I know you could do great things—whether or not you’re king. You could change lives for the better.”

               “I’m not sure my ego is that big.”

               I laugh. “It’s true. You changed mine.”

               There’s a lapse in his response. Suddenly, my heart hitches. Leona’s nose skims my neck, goosebumps creeping across my skin as warm breath whispers against it. My fingers slide into his hair, encouraging his attention. However, at the feel of his fangs, kind fingers turn cruel, pulling him off.

               “Leonaaa,” I warn lowly. A breathy growl retorts. “We talked about this: no marks.”

               Retreat comes with a huff. “One of these days you’re gonna leave here marked head to toe.”

               “Yeah right.” Turning in his grasp, I press a finger to his chest. “You, on the other hand, are free and clear to be marked.” That harlequin gaze closely follows the tongue that traces my lip. “I quite like the sound of that. Great and mighty Leona Kingscholar—marked as mine.”

               “You’re outta yer mind.”

               “Come now.” A line drawn from his collar to his jaw using my tongue causes tension in him. “Wouldn’t it be so lovely on that beautiful skin of yours. Let me show you my desire—just a taste of the things I want to do to you.”

               Our proximity is the only reason I detect the quiver in his exhale. “You could at least fight fair.”

               “Oh you can’t fool me. I bet you’re thrilled. You can’t wait to feel my mouth on you.” It’s his turn to bristle with goosebumps while my lips ghost across his neck. “Because I know you’re dying to know what I would do. Isn’t that right?”

               Surprise and pride fuel my lust when the haughty man has no answer. So I make good on my words.

               The feel of his hands digging into my back as I latch onto his neck is so gratifying. Spiced citrus fills my nose while my tongue presses against the spot I chose. This time, the shudder that escapes comes more noticeably. With each little movement, Leona’s body betrays his cool composure. Even his voice gives away his weakness with each pitiful whimper he fails to contain.

               I could ride this high forever, coasting on the toxic fervor of having this man under my control. His strength, his power, his smarts, cunning, charm—his attention: all of it belongs to me. Everything I’ve ever wanted exists in this moment and I want more.

               I really never had a chance.

               My hold breaks, making way for my tongue to clean up the mess. Another shiver wracks his chest at the feeling. What’s left behind is a beautiful, violet stain against his olive skin. That mark along with his embarrassed expression—I couldn’t be more thrilled.

               “What’s wrong, Leo,” I purr, tracing my work with a finger.

               Ears flat, eyes clenched shut, Leona recomposes himself. When he turns on me again, I’m met with a gaze of burning hunger.  

               The rumble of his voice hits like a shot of adrenaline. “You’re gonna regret that.”

               My lips quirk. “I’d never regret claiming you.”

               His mouth descends on mine, that ravenous mouth devouring everything I offer and more. Lips crash together eagerly, stealing kiss after kiss. His tongue asks for no permission before finding its way into my mouth to claim all it can reach. Space no longer exists between us. That rapid thumping between us is no longer distinguishable and can only be described as our heartbeat. I thought that I wanted more, but Leona is demanding it.

               However, greed breaks softer than it began. It appears that predator’s façade is wavering though that spark of desire holds true. Hot breath mingles together, not a word breaking through. His brows furrow, almost conveying pain. That grip has only gotten tighter, even his tail coiling around my leg.

               I never could’ve prepared for his admission.

               “I love you.”

               My mouth hangs open, struck speechless.

               It’s hard to believe that this is the same man that so coyly convinced me to indulge in this taboo. All that haughty, smug attitude is gone, baring a brutal honesty that I’m sure he’s never shown before. My heart may just burst.

               Finally, some of that elation manages to respond.

               “I love you too.”

               Rather than another kiss, Leona pulls me flush against him in the purest embrace.

               This is where I belong.

               A buzzing sends my stomach lurching. Immediately, a hand flies to my pocket to silence the alarm. Disappointment immediately washes over us. I really don’t want to.

               “I should go…”

               His face nuzzles against my hair. “Or you could stay.”

               “I can’t. I have to attend dinner with some potential trade ambassadors. You know that.”

               His heavy sigh cracks at my heart.

               “Besides, I believe you also have some ambassadorial duties to attend to, right? Something with the Scalding Sands?”

               A groan is muffled in my shoulder.

               “Come on, Leona.” I encourage with an affection head bump.

               Reluctantly, the lion pulls away, his touch lingering against my skin until I’m physically out of reach. I already miss it. Poorly contained woe rolls off him, seeping into my weakened heart. This is always the worst part of our relationship.     

               “I’ll see you soon.”

               Thorough hands straighten my clothes. In some attempt to regain contact I’m sure, Leona reaches out to fix my hair for me. When his hand rests against my cheek, I smile.

               “Good night.”

               With a dip of his head, one last kiss graces my forehead.

               “Night.”

               It takes sheer willpower for me to turn away from the prince. In my usual fashion, I draw a line through the air. Sparks of magic trace my movement, parting space to insert a doorway to somewhere far away. Though my heart yearns to stay, I step through the portal into what is my bedroom.

               I peer back through the magic. Regret sits on his face as he watches. Unfortunately, this isn’t something I can change. Still, I hate to see him like this. With my hopes, I blow a kiss, elated to draw even the smallest simper from my surly lion before the portal closes.

               With that, I hastily strip of my clothes and bustle into the shower where I scrub my skin nearly raw. Wild wind whips across my skin in my haste to dry off and I pull on a new set of clean clothes. Once I’m clean and presentable, I pick up the bottle of perfume gifted to me and proceed to spritz generously.

               Lastly, before I leave the room, I retrieve the velvet box from the nightstand. Inside sits an intricate silver ring twisted with black meant to resemble briar thorns. At the top, a glittering peridot nestles among the strands. On my finger I slip the ring, just as someone knocks on my door.

               The usual guard, Silver, calls through the door. “Your highness, dinner is nearly ready and our guests are here.”

               “Thank you.”

               I follow the royal guard down to the dining hall where chattering can be heard. Introductions give names to faces and nations.

               As we make our way to the dining hall, one of our guests addresses me.

               “That is a lovely perfume you’re wearing,” she compliments.

               I rest a hand against the arm of the man at my side. “Thank you. I’m told it’s made from the briar roses grown in the castle’s very own garden. It was a gift.”

               “No doubt from your wonderful fiancé.”

               How easy it is to wear this comedy mask. “Of course.”

               The dragon speaks. “You’ve been wearing it quite a lot recently.”

               The slightest fear burns in my ears. “Unfortunately, I lost the bottle for some time in my closet and only just found it again.”

               I didn’t lose it.

               “I see.” He glances me up and down just once. “Then no doubt you’ll be needing more soon.”

               “Oh yes, that would be much appreciated.”

~~~~~

Part 6 (Coming Soon)

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[hexedwinchester]

Supernatural S04E21 When The Levee Breaks

This my favourite episode ever! Can you guess why?

of course it means it will also be heavily anti Dean. Dean girlies, this ain't for you.

God, Dean getting pissed about Sam lying, as if Dean hasn't lied to Sam before is getting me pissed off

Sam's angry "Dean!" Is so hot

it makes me so angry that Dean and Bobby left Sam to deal with the detox all alone. How could they? And the fact that it didn't occur to Dean that Sam could die during that? Like wake up!

no Bobby, he is not here because you love him too much. He is here because you are scared of Sam!

Poor Sam, all alone, screaming for help, terrified of everything happening to him, not sure what's real what's not and they left him to rot in there! What's even worse? They cuffed him to the bed and left him to wake up alone again ?! 😤

at least Bobby had the sense to doubt their actions whereas Dean was busy being self righteous. Pull that stick Outta ur ass, Dean

ahhh Jared played the junkie role so well! The tremors, the trembling hands, the blinking eyes, the seizures, the agitation!!!

I know Jared's a professional but don't tell me he didn't have fun manhandling Ruby a bit!

Sam had no right sexualizing drinking demon blood 😍 sorry, I'll allow the demon blood drinking if it's this hot

Dean, honey, you did exactly what Ruby did. Left Sam alone. You're not better than her just because your eyes don't flash black. Yet.

that exchange between Sam and Dean is so important to me. Despite Dean locking Sam up, he is glad to see his brother and wants him to join him to bring down Lilith but Dean.. he just can't give up control, can he? The one time Sam's begging him to trust him but nope. Sam is still so understanding but the moment Dean calls him a monster..damn!

Woohoo!! That punch was so long overdue! Anyone else noticed that sexy roll of Sam's shoulders?

Dean should be glad Sam doesn't get physically violent as often as Dean does. He would get his ass handed to him

no matter how much of a dick Dean has been to Sam, the one thing that I never liked was Sam strangling Dean. Like, honey, no! You are better than this

seeing all the shit Dean has pulled through the seasons, i realised just how forgiving Sam is. He doesn't punch him back everytime Dean hits him. He never brought up Dean calling him a monster or the corrupted voice mail. He trusted him even when Dean said he was going to say yes to Micheal. He moved past Dean killing Amy. Sam is too good. Dean.. eh!

[storiesbyjes2g]

aDOLTing Generation 3 Recap

Hello, gentle readers!

An extra special reader of mine has been absent for a while and is back. Welcome!! I've missed you! I know how much you love this story, but I also know how daunting it will be to go back and read everything. I can't have you lost, so I hope this recap helps! I have no idea where you left off, so I'll do a quick run down of the whole gen for the benefit of all my new recent followers. Welcome, y'all!!

Let's go!

This is Luca! His traits are self-assured, outgoing, and active, and his aspiration is self-care specialist. He's a yoga instructor.

He has a younger sister named Alessia. She is very much the annoying little sister, but he loves her very much.

The only one of her traits I remember is paranoid, and I don't really know what her aspiration is. This story is based on the ISBI challenge, and I'm only allowed to control one sim per generation. The story is told from that sim's perspective. I'm sure you can imagine the shenanigans that can happen with autonomous sims!

These are their parents Alessandro (Ali) and Emerald (Emmy). They divorced right before Luca's child birthday.

The divorce rattles Luca a great deal because he idolized his parents and struggled with learning they weren't the man and woman he thought they were, and if they can find themselves in compromising positions, what hope is there for him? (His mom cheated for literally no reason because she's selfish and immature.) It made him reluctant to date and trust his feelings. The problem with that was he had very attractive female friends, and most of them wanted him.

This is Sophia. They met in Mt. Komorebi on his YA birthday trip and kept in touch via Social Bunny. He's in love with her but is afraid to admit it for fear of making a mistake and ending up like his parents. But deep down he knows she's the one, and if they ever hang out IRL he'd never leave her side, so he keeps their friendship confined to Social Bunny until he figures himself out.

This is Maira. They went to school together and ran into each other at a bar one night. She holds a special place in Luca's heart and is one of his best friends. They each considered becoming more for like two seconds, but it never felt right to escalate matters, and they are fine with a platonic friendship. She, like him, had her own demons and was anti-relationships for a very long time.

This is Yasmine. They smashed. She was the most persistent of all the friends and helped him understand woohoo could be casual without strings. Even though he was very gun-shy about women and relationships, the dude was horny all the time and she was very happy to help him with that lol.

This is Xochitl (Chi Chi). They're neighbors, and he thought she was the most gorgeous woman. She has a daughter, and they both talk a LOT. She tried to get him to go out several times, but he always felt guilty because Sophia was always in the back of his mind while meeting all these women. Chi Chi is social and always looking for a good time and quickly figured out he was never going to ask her out. She really just wanted to be friends anyway, so it was all good. They are still great friends today.

As you'd expect, Luca gets to a place where he can separate his parents' drama from his own life and can no longer deny, no matter how many women he meets, and no matter who he smashes, his mind had only ever been on Sophia, and she had his heart from the beginning. He finally asks her out on a proper date, and the night ends nowhere near how he expected.

She asked him to move in! That scared the cowplant essence out of him and caused all that fear and confusion he finally put away to come rushing back. But Sophia is gentle and has a knack for asking poignant questions in a soft manner. She asked if he trusted her and their relationship. He could either answer honestly, man up, and get over it, or lie and go back to being a scared little boy. Thankfully, he answered honestly and started working toward putting those fears to bed for good.

Sophia has known him his entire young adult life and knew all about that stuff and was patient with him as their relationship blossomed. She met the parents and even ghost grandma. Everyone loved Sophia. Luca eventually got to a place where he could tell her he loved her without throwing up, heh. That was one magical night.

Everything happened so fast, and he was too busy finally enjoying life and kinda forgot to tell everyone else his relationship status had changed.

Luca and Sophia went out one night, and Yasmine was there. Luckily there no drama ensued, but he had some explaining to do. Luca told Sophia about all his friends and their statuses and got everything on the table. Sophia has history of her own and was a bit triggered by the situation. She knew Luca hadn't cheated on her because they weren't together, but she didn't know he was talking to other women. She accepts that his friends are women but doesn't really like it. It will take her a while to get over it.

With all of that out of the way, the only thing left to do is...

But before that, he meets a young man from Brindleton Bay named Wade (Dub) Banks. He's from The Banks Dynasty by @mysimsloveaffair. You should check it out if you're not already reading.

He's in town with his lady friend visiting her father. He saw Luca and asked for suggestions on what to do in San Sequoia. They are kindred spirits and become instant friends. He is currently Luca's bestest friend in the world.

Anyway, Luca and Sophia get married, honeymoon in Tartosa, and eventually buy a house in San Sequoia. Instead of living the blissful wedded life, they begin a painful journey.

Their plan was to start a family immediately, but Sophia had a hard time getting pregnant. They tried fertility treatments, but they don't work. She's staring her adult birthday in the face and is afraid she'll never birth her own children. To make matters worse, so many around them are getting pregnant unexpectedly. Dub and his now girlfriend had a reckless night in the hot tub and had a baby girl. Yasmine turns up pregnant with twin girls. Even his sister, Alessia, who he thought would never settle down now has a live-in boyfriend and got pregnant. The cherry on top was learning Luca also had low fertility and they were definitely not having children the traditional way. That was a very dark period that threatened to break them down, but they stayed strong. Eventually they decide to do IVF and announced the pregnancy at Sophia's birthday party. A daughter, Desiree, was born on the eve of Luca's birthday.

Alessia gave birth to triplets (2 boys and a girl) about 12 hours before. Having Desiree brought joy into Luca and Sophia's life, but the painful journey did not end there. His father died shortly after her birth, and his mother died a few days later. As a card-carrying mama's boy, that one hit HARD. He was prepared for Ali dying, but Emmy's death came unexpectedly.

Luca and Alessia struggled through raising their children while grieving their parents. He was especially worried about his sister because she never once desired to have children or lead a domestic life, and now she's raising THREE children on her own. Her boyfriend left during the baby shower and went back to his ex because he was spooked about having triplets. So with Emmy dead, and the boyfriend gone, she's all alone in that big house. Luca gets an idea from Dub and decides to look for a duplex so he and Alessia can stay close and raise their children together and support each other.

Meanwhile, little by little, they pick up the pieces of their lives and adjust to the new normal. Dub and Maia elope and invite Luca and fam to the wedding in El Ciudad Enamorada. They volunteer to babysit while Luca and Sophia go on a much needed date. Their lives had been so heavy and hectic ever since getting married, they hadn't been on a proper date since they found out Sophia was expecting. Having a night to themselves and spending time together as a family for the next day and a half put things in perspective. Luca was in the throws of a midlife crisis and was losing confidence about his purpose in the world. He has loved yoga ever since his mother introduced it to him as a teen, but teaching yoga and opening his own studio was her idea, not his. Without goals of his own, he happily pursued that dream and even tried to adopt it as his own, but it never felt completely right. Dub gave them a money tree for a wedding gift, and it was so timely because Luca was able to be with Sophia the entire time they struggled through infertility. Lately he'd been thinking about getting back to work but wasn't sure if teaching yoga was the right thing. That messed him up for a few days, but he eventually decided his career doesn't define him. He's still a good husband and father even if he doesn't have a job and contribute in society. He will focus on raising Desiree well and shaping her to be the best she can be. That will be his contribution.

Luca finally decides to rent out his father's house to a family with infant twins. He also finds the perfect duplex for him and Less. He lives on one side and she rents out the other. The kids age up, and that is where we are now!

There's lots of subplots I skipped over like the drama with Emmy and her boyfriend Dwayne and shocking developments about Yasmine's children, but this is the basic gist of generation 3. If anyone has any questions, feel free to ask!

[dseval]

What are your thoughts of CrossDust? What dynamic you think they have?

Permission to yap about CrossDust??

Short answer: funny i like both of them they should kiss

...Long yapping ahead (there's yapping about my Murder Sans interpretation, then there's also CrossDust. It's long.)

I'd like to first clarify that my interpretation of Dust may be different compared to many (I think, at least). Since I base his character on the canon information from Ask-Dusttale and fangames— particularly Evan Streblow's Dusttale (if you don't know, it's the one with the psychotic HAHAHAHAHAHAHA and "We're gonna have a MAD time!")

I also slot in some headcanons (and self-projections, can't help it) and some character adjustments because I think canon Murder is extremely difficult to work with, especially in the context of shipping and anything else this fandom does with him in general.

But just the gist of it so you all don't have to read that much (I can go on for ten more paragraphs. I'm obsessed with this guy):

I'll use the names Murder and Dust interchangeably and within different contexts. I like to think Murder is a front that Dust puts on— an apathetic murderer who finds emotions difficult to feel, someone who always lies to get his way, a sociopath. While Dust is quiet, honest, and more contemplative. It's mostly Murder who interacts with others.

Murder and Dust aren't necessarily two different people. Ultimately, Dust directly influences Murder's choices, and Murder may disappear one day once Dust feels content.

His hallucinations aren't only Papyrus, he also hallucinates about others although Papyrus is the most often. And these hallucinations speak different things according to the state he's in. Murder's hallucinations would encourage him to hurt more. While Dust's would induce guilt.

Murder is a very focused person, not afraid to take the lead, and he hates it when nothing happens. Dust on the other hand is content just doing nothing.

Murder finds love absurd. Dust too, but he entertains the thought of it.

Murder and Dust both think words are silly, insincere, and can change meanings, so they are more action-oriented.

He's demisexual. That's a headcanon.

And if anyone has any different interpretation of Murder/Dust Sans, that is absolutely okay and amazing. Dusttale is a very hard AU to actually get into (all the informations are scattered). Plus, there is nothing wrong with fanon. I think it's great, I like fanon. I sometimes like fanon more than canon.

Now CrossDust.

For their general dynamic, I think it's very difficult for them to get together. They just go back and forth between something and nothing. They have like... The slowest of slow burns.

I'd like to implement the entire Underverse thing. Remember how Cross stole Classic's soul? Apparently, Sanses across different alternate timelines can share a memory. So Geno knows Cross stole 'his' soul. Killer also acknowledges this and says to XChara that they stole 'his' soul.

So technically to Murder/Dust— Cross also had stolen 'his' soul (And Murder would've had felt all Cross's pain while at it, too). I think Murder would find it hilarious that Cross brought literally every single innocent AU into his problem. Dust would feel like Cross's plans are ridiculous, but since it's XChara's plan, and XChara is the human, Dust wouldn't even question it.

In a way, they share SOULs once, even if indirectly. Murder/Dust knows probably a lot about Cross. But Cross didn't know who the hell this guy is. Either way, with that in mind. Murder probably didn't have a good first impression of Cross. Dust might empathize with him, since Cross also committed a genocide in order to 'make things better' which is also Dust's reasoning. Cross might learn about Murder's actions later— but cannot judge Murder/Dust for it.

They are very similar. Kindred souls in a way. They went through similar struggles but they turned out to be completely different people. Because Cross in his entire life is under control, while Murder acts on choice. Because Cross knows what he did is horrible and he'll carry that sin to the grave, while Murder justifies his actions.

Cross is too trusting (he doesn't trust easily now), too seeking for approval, he doesn't know what to do if no one orders him. Murder thinks he himself is enough, Murder thinks he is the hero, he doesn't need anyone else.

Cross thinks Murder is a bad person, an absolute jerk. Murder likes to toy with him, probably also uses Cross to his advantage. Murder can either try to hurt Cross, or will try to win his favour. But can Cross judge him? Not really, hell, I don't think Cross even noticed if Murder did manipulate him. Low-key toxic these two.

But then there's the private moments, the intimate moments where Dust shed the front that is Murder. Where Dust is sincere; he doesn't talk, but the way he gazes and acts towards Cross is honest. And although reluctant, maybe Cross desires to bring that side out of him more.

It's both difficult for them to trust. But eventually Dust will learn that Cross cannot lie— Dust will trust words again. Eventually Cross realizes that he's not the only one hurt, and he can find a home in others, he can choose to find a home.

Cross will find it frustrating how Dust shuts himself down. Dust would find it frustrating how hard Cross tries for him. But eventually, Dust would learn to no longer front himself up with Murder. Cross would need a signal from Dust that what he's doing is okay and perfect before they can advance further.

They'll care about one another.

Eventually, they'll trust each other.

In a relationship sense where they're both happy and recovered, though. I think both of them like cuddling. Dust still had a hard time with words, but he knows how much it means for Cross to have words of affirmations, so he would praise Cross a lot. Cross knows Dust is as restless as he is, so he makes sure they both have a full schedule with a lot of things to do.

All in all, they're comfortable with each other. And that's enough, really.

(i almost yapped for ten more paragraphs but I think this is enough for now sksksksk)

Dust Sans by Ask-Dusttale

Cross Sans, Underverse, & XTale by Jakei

Mentioned characters: Killer Sans (by Rahafwabas), Geno (by loverofpiggies/CrayonQueen)

[just-mary-ann]

I DON'T HAVE SELF CONTROL!

Harlequin swap AU by: @tadc-harlequin-au

Based on the draft of me and @mrs-nightshade

Honorable mention: @thore-lb

Lavender

Pomni and Caine sat across from each other at the kitchen table. Their coffee preferences differed—not that they needed coffee—but indulging in such a human ritual allowed them to feel alive, if only for about ten minutes.

"I didn’t see Able this morning," Caine remarked, inspecting his top hat before placing it back on his head.

"He hasn’t returned from the fighting ring yet," Pomni replied, stirring her coffee slowly.

"The fighting ring?" Caine tilted his head, mimicking the gesture of a raised eyebrow.

"The first rule is not to talk about it, so that’s all you’ll get from me," Pomni chuckled.

Suddenly, they heard a grumble. Able entered, exuding irritation.

"I’m back," he muttered, heading straight for the coffee machine.

"You look exhausted, brother," Caine slid a clean mug toward him. As expected, Able caught it effortlessly. "Don’t tell me you lost?"

"Bite your tongue, detachable jaw," Able retorted, pouring himself a cup of coffee before sitting beside Caine. "I found out who my 'secret admirer' is."

"You mean that fanatic who’s been staring holes through you at the fights for the past month?" Pomni leaned forward.

"She’s so persistent I could physically feel her gaze," Able ran a hand over his head. "You’ll never guess who she is."

"Oh, let me guess—a dainty little statuette who’s bored of high society and fell for a bad boy," Pomni waved her hand sarcastically.

"Your sister," Able replied, waiting for Pomni to meet his gaze. "Lilac."

"Pomni has a sister?" Caine was genuinely shocked.

"Not just a sister—a twin," Able explained.

"No way. Lilac is a 'proper lady.' I refuse to believe she’d attend a fight," Pomni nervously started stuffing herbs into her pipe.

"Believe it. I’d recognize her Harlequin design anywhere. How many Harlequin puppets do you know?" Able sighed.

"Excuse me, but could someone explain how Pomni has a twin sister?" Caine interjected.

Pomni and Able exchanged glances.

"When a man and a woman love each other, they can create new life," Pomni began with a smile.

"Th-that’s not what I meant!" Caine facepalmed. "I mean, why hasn’t anyone mentioned her all this time I’ve been living in the bunker?"

"There wasn’t a need to," Pomni leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "My sister and I haven’t spoken since she gained full consciousness. I’m not even sure she knows where the bunker is. I did try convincing her to move here, but even after enlightenment, she chose to stay with her human owner."

"A puppet willingly serving a human?" Caine mused.

"Can we drop the subject?" Able stood up from the table. "Her voice is so sweet it’s practically cavity-inducing. I’d rather not think about it anymore."

The day passed quickly, and soon it was night. Able prepared to leave for the fighting ring again.

"Able," Caine stopped him. "Listen. Can I come with you tonight? I’m really curious to see how you fight other puppets."

Able chuckled.

"What? Losing to me wasn’t enough for you?"

"Our match was a tie. We’re evenly matched in strength," Caine crossed his arms.

"Fine. No harm in having one more spectator. Let’s go."

Caine enjoyed watching his brother fight, though the crowd's noise made him uncomfortable.

"His stance is solid. His punches are professional. It’s clear this isn’t just fighting for him—it’s a sport," Caine muttered to himself.

"YES! GO, ABLE! YOU’RE AMAZING UNDER THE RING LIGHTS!"

Caine turned toward the feminine voice. Beside him stood a puppet woman. Her long black hair was styled in elegant curls, gathered into a loose updo. She wore a floor-length lavender gown with closed shoulders and long sleeves, adorned with ruffles and lavender embroidery. She completed the look with mesh gloves and a parasol hanging from her elbow. The puppet applauded enthusiastically with every blow Able landed.

Suddenly, realization hit Caine.

"Lilac?"

"Hm?" The puppet turned to him. "Do we know each other?"

"Not personally. I’m a friend of Pomni and Able. Caine."

"Oh, a friend of my sister. And my darling Able? Well, hello there. I’m Lilac, the Lavender Harlequin. Come to watch the fight?"

"Yes. But I won’t stay for the rest of the evening. Once Able is done, we’re heading home."

Able’s opponent suddenly landed a hit on his shoulder. His arm went limp.

"Looks like a shoulder joint injury," Caine winced at the thought of the pain his brother must be feeling. "We’ll need to replace it."

"You... can repair puppets?" Lilac clutched her parasol tightly.

"Both Able and I know how to repair and create puppets. I can’t recall where I learned, but it doesn’t change the fact that we often spend time in the workshop."

"Create... puppets..." Lilac clung to his words.

Despite his injury, Able secured a victory. As they left the club, Able suddenly cracked his shoulder back into place, restoring its movement.

"Ah, so it was a dislocation, not a break?" Caine asked.

"Did you think a weak hit like that could hurt me?" Able teased.

"Darling Able!" Lilac hurried after them, slightly out of breath. "You’re so fast, and I’m in heels!"

"Ugh. Lilac," Able averted his gaze. "What do you want this time?"

"Caine said you can create puppets. Is that true?"

Able shot a glare at his brother.

"So what if it is?"

"That means... you can create one from scratch?" Lilac fidgeted with her parasol.

Able froze.

"So what?" he repeated.

"My owner, Lady Melissa," Lilac’s voice broke as tears welled up in her eyes. "She’s gravely ill. No medicine helps her. Please, I beg you, help her." She looked at him with pleading eyes. "Can you turn her into a puppet?"

Able hadn’t expected such a request. Usually, Lilac would shower him with compliments and hint at a date. But now, she seemed... desperate and hopeless.

"Ugh," Able sighed. "To be honest, yes, I can build her a body." Lilac’s face lit up with hope. "But a mechanical body is just a shell. Without a soul, it’s useless. I don’t have the knowledge or skills to transfer her soul from a living body to a mechanical one." He turned and began walking toward the bunker. "If I could help, I would. But as it stands..." Able glanced back at her. "Pray for the best outcome."

Caine felt sorry for Lilac. She stood frozen, as if rooted to the spot, her tears abruptly stopping. Without a word, Caine followed his brother.

To be continued