#i think this counts as like gay chicken

[lunesprite]

@dca-prompts

I tripped. Dear anon, I think they might still bite each other, but I hope you like this <3 2884 unedited words total, mostly under the cut.

__________

It started as not quite what you’d call a dare. 

More of an… ante up. 

Everyone knows the Daycare Attendants. They’re… a lot. That’s really the only word for it. A manic amount of energy all wound up in springs and titanium in one, and in the other? 

If you’re over the age of 13, honestly, he’s a dick. 

You would laugh if you weren’t also over the age of 13 and didn’t have to man the gift shop three days a week, which meant spending a few hours those days, when all the daycare lights dimmed, pointedly ignoring the jackass with his face pressed to the glass just waiting to freak you out while the kids snoozed. 

That was normally as far as it went. The most dangerous part of your shift would be walking by the jumpscare enclosure on the way out or to sneak in a bathroom break, and you refuse to admit how many times he got you. You’d think it’d be easy to see the gigantic robot with the glowing eyes and stars everywhere coming, but no! Whoever made him had really gone out of their way to program the child caretaker to be a goddamn master of stealth. 

And then. 

Then. 

It snowed out. 

Heavy enough that the daycare was left empty and you were pretty sure the plex was only still open out of sheer stubbornness, which left you and your neighboring menace - Sun excluded - alone. No children to watch and no messes to clean up for either of you. 

The shelves in Lucky Stars had never been so dust-free. 

Every pile of merch was immaculate. The shirts - folded and sized. Even the clearance designs. 

Even Sun was feeling it. The poor guy had already sorted all the building blocks and started organizing the barrels by color. You were considering knocking on the door and offering to play Uno before he sorted the ball pit when the overhead lights dimmed and you let your eyes slide away from the Mayor of Bastard City and his blinking red eyes and back to the keychains near the register. 

You heard the tell-tale scrape of claws on thick glass. The creepy jack-in-the-box tune he liked to wind up if you walked too slow past his enclosure. You glanced over and saw those beacon-bright eyes peering over the side of the wall, heard him snicker as he slowly sank down, down into the darkness, before you hummed and went back to sorting old Bonnies. Vaguely, you saw him pacing. Scuttling around, dangling on his wire, thumping himself into the wall like a dead thing, but otherwise? Ignorable. Standard. Did he think this was your first rodeo? Hell no. 

The silence didn’t last. 

With no children to rein him in, Moon made a new sound: a fucking horrid mechanical death rattle that stopped you in your tracks. 

It sounded like a car on its last, last legs. Like a zombie of a car, dragged back from death by a cruel mechanic who knew no limits and left his morals and half the important car-bits back on the side of the highway three states back. You winced, glaring at him until he stopped with a gleeful giggle and a waggle of his sinful claws. 

“Sounds like shit, man. Good job.” 

“Language.” 

“We’re all adults here, Moonie. And,” you said, turning towards him and signing slowly, deliberately, watching his pupils watch your hands with an ever-more mischievous hiss. “Don’t think I didn’t look up what this meant.” 

He snickered, face spinning lazily above his cheshire grin. 

“Naughty.” 

“You did it first.” 

And then, because you weren’t about to lose this by giving him any more of what he wanted, you looked him dead in the eyes and put in your headphones with a thumbs up. 

Checkmate. He could glower all he wanted. No metal death screams were getting through these bad boys. 

It did work. It did. 

Moon paced like a bored tiger in a zoo, hunched and stalking and dragging his face against the glass. It probably sounded awful. Like nails on a chalkboard, but with metal and silicon shrieks and squeals! 

And you heard none of it. :) 

You were feeling very clever, very triumphant, until you finished all the fiddly bits that decorated the register area and turned, ready to move onto new frontiers - 

The daycare door was open. 

Cracked just enough for you to notice. Just enough you could imagine the stock horror game sound of the hinges creaking in the dark. And, as your eyes slid downwards, you noticed… toys on the floor. Blocks, a plastic ball, a little stuffed Sun. 

All laid in a perfectly spaced trail from the cracked door to the edge of your half-lit shop, where there sat a single, raggedy plush of Moon. Barely a foot away. 

Your headphones crackled. 

Beeehiiiind you, liiittle ssstar. 

A hand, too large and too sharp, settled across your shoulder. 

You did not scream. You will never admit it.  

You lunged to the nearest plush, lit crimson as cackling crackled inside your headphones and outside, and whirled around to beat that goddamn robot to death. 

It did NOT work. At all. He was fast. Bounding on all fours, springing up the walls and deflecting your projectiles with giant plush versions of himself as he laughed and laughed and laughed, always just an inch away, slipping through your fingers as you called him every foul-mouthed minced curse under the fucking sun until you ran out of breath. Chest heaving, fingers clenched around the ragged little Moon, you glared up at your personal demon as he pranced atop the daycare wall like the world’s most kickable imp. 

The shop was a wreck. 

And then he paused, stupid head turning towards the lobby. And fell backwards into the darkness as you glanced at the stairs to see - your coworker, paused and gaping at the disaster zone behind you and your own distinctly rumpled uniform. 

The Moon squeaked in your fist. 

“Is uh,” she said, eyes wide as she took in the wreckage and you, alone, Moon nowhere in sight. “Is everything going ok in here?” 

You exhaled. 

A laugh hissed in your headphones, low and utterly pleased, and you slipped them off and into your jacket pocket with your best beatific smile as you stood straight. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him: Moon swayed in the air above the daycare on his wire, hands folded beneath his head like a sleeping angel. 

Your coworker stared at you like a madman. 

You lost. Miserably. 

And what could you do about it? All bets were off; the wall of the daycare breached, your game thrown into disarray. 

Except… 

You glanced down at the Moon in your hands. Ratty and rumpled, it must have been a few product lines out of date even before you started. A single bell clung valiantly to its hat. 

You laughed. Before your coworker could wonder - completely incorrectly - if you’d snapped at last, the daycare theme having driven you to the depths of madness, you beamed at her. 

“It’s peachy! Just peachy.” 

She did not look convinced. 

“Are… you sure? Do you need uh… I can probably give you a 15 instead of a 10…?” 

Bless her heart. 

“That’d be great!” You waved lightly back towards the shop. “Don’t worry about cleanup, I’ll get it when I get back! There’s just one itty bitty thing before I go?” 

“... Yesssss?” 

You held up the ratty Moon. It jangled innocently, your coworker flinching like it might explode. 

“Can I buy this before I go on break?” 

Far above, Moon’s smooth swaying on his wire stuttered. Bingo. 

With as much saccharine sweetness as you could muster, you squash the tiny Moon in a hug, cheek pressed to plush cheek. 

“I gotta get something of my new bestie after all!” 

Your coworker’s incredulous disbelief and your total loss of dignity was worth it as Moon tumbled down his stupid fucking wire, red eyes locked on you in mute shock as right in front of the glass, you gave that dingy plush a kiss on the cheek. 

Ante up, bitch. 

It became your new weapon. 

Whenever Moon acted out particularly badly - though you never had a repeat of him slipping his bounds, and neither of you acknowledged it after - then on your break, you’d look him in the optics and buy whatever bit of Moon merch was next on your list. 

Was it escalating? Yes. 

You’d gotten every keychain. Your bag jangled with the things. Sun spotted it one day and you saw him actually stumble. It was cute watching him talk around the Moon-laden bag in the other room when you brought him some desperately needed supplies he’d somehow forgotten he still had entire fabric storage cubes of. 

It was fine. You didn’t mind. It gave you a chance to go fetch your bag and show off your collection. 

(Did you feel a little guilty then? Yes. But you were committed to the goddamn bit and like hell would you break for even a second.) 

Your favorite Moon was the little cat Moon keychain, but the one from the stray Halloween collection box you’d unearthed in the back was mad cute, too. 

And now? You were working through the plushes. The shirts. You’d organized the list by price point. With every purchase, Moon’s eyes got just a little bit wider. His laugh a little softer. Almost - if you dared say it - flustered. 

Almost… charming? 

The kids noticed. 

The ratty Moon sat beside your register, a name tag pinned to his re-stitched torso. A Moon sticker decorated your own name tag - along with a Sun added by the big man himself. You found an old starry version of the plex polo. When the winter beanies arrived - notably weeks after it began to snow -, you were the first one to slam down the cash for the Moon and Sun themed one. It was reversible. It looked like something a ye olde jester would wear. A bell jangled from the tip. 

It was unironically cute as hell. 

The kids went nuts. The child size range sold out almost the same day, in no small part due to your completely definitely as a bit enthusiastic recommendation in jingling around the shop. When the lights went out, the kids all clamored to show Moon their new hats, too, like they’d done for Sun, and you’d never heard such a joyous but utterly failed ‘naptime.’ 

Moon jingled after all the little giggling stars, and you watched, hand on your chin, as he scrabbled up the jungle gym like a big cat. 

So what if when he looked towards you and wiggled his claws, you wiggled your fingers back. It was… it reminded you of the keychain. The cat one, with a paw up like. You know, nya~. 

Your coworkers definitely thought you cracked, but you didn’t really care? So what if they talked when they relieved you for your break in the dark and you and Moon took turns skulking behind the walls, trying to spook one another? You did get him once. 

When they sarcastically asked about you and your wretched bestie, you didn’t even flinch. 

Why would you? He was your bestie. 

Lucky Stars was your shift now. Which worked out great! It gave you even more chances to show off what you’d get next. Since, uh. Fazbear didn’t pay that much, and the big plushes and the honestly sick hoodies they released were definitely a more ‘save up a bit’ kind of purchase. 

Even Sun chimed in sometimes. 

He agreed you should do the hoodie next. It was reversible, too. It was also completely obnoxious - the colors a complete circus riot, though Sun gasped and called it cheerful instead. 

Of course, the day you bought it - you made puppy eyes at the Glamrock Gifts cashier so you could start your shift already wearing it because it had the ruffles and bells included, come on -, it snowed again. Parents trailed in remnants of muddy slush in their trek to fetch their kids, pausing when you greeted them with the mop bucket nearby as Sun waved from behind the glass. Your hoodie matched him. You weren’t an amateur. It obviously wasn’t time for the starry side yet. 

For some reason, they thought you were an attendant. 

(Nah. You just knew Sun would worry his rays off if folks kept trailing muddy water up to his doors.) 

By naptime, it was just the two of you left. 

You’d dragged the mop bucket and a sweet little wet floor bot in from the lobby and set about cleaning your gift shop of any stray mud tracked in and glanced up as the place went dim and the stars overhead twinkled on. 

And paused. 

Neither of you had ever mentioned that time, and you’d never gone inside the daycare proper when it was naptime. But… wouldn’t it be great to show off the new hoodie up close? It was rad. The glow in the dark star prints wouldn’t glow since, you know, it’d been turned towards the inside, but the whole bell and ruffle situation would still be fun, right? 

The wet floor bot beeped up at you. 

With a grin, you patted its head and stowed the mop in the bucket, leaning in carefully before you stepped back. 

“Gotta go show off my latest, little guy.” You gestured towards the daycare, and the bot beeped again. Taking its blessing, you trotted off. 

Towards the doors. Which, before you even reached them, creaked open. 

Moon was nowhere to be seen. 

You stopped at the threshold, exaggeratedly peering in, hunting for him and ‘forgetting’ to look up before giving up with a shrug and a sigh. 

“Man. Here I was, hoping to show Moon my fun new hoodie, and my best friend isn’t even here to appreciate it?” 

Jingle. 

You grinned. Humming, you leant further into the daycare, as if the jingling wasn’t very obviously behind you. 

“Moooon? Hey, has anyone seen a big, lanky animatronic?” You telegraphed your turn so clearly, it’s no surprise Moon has vanished when you look back at the wet floor bot. It waggled its ears, beeping. “Any clue where he went, little guy?” 

Jingle jingle. 

This time when clawed hands curled around your shoulders, you didn’t jump. Or when Moon melted against your back, hat dangling down to jingle against your ear. You just. Went still. That’s all. 

You’d never been this close to one of them before. Not even Sun. 

Little whirrs and ticking sounds buzzed against your spine. 

So he’s… Decided to up the ante himself, huh? Well now! It’ll take more than that. 

You turned in his grip, stretching your arms to your sides as you come face to face with your. Bestie. Suspended upside down on the wire with his face right side up, inches away from yours; the shine of his eyes was low, dimmed, his claws picking idly at the thick ‘ruffle’ across your shoulders. 

“Whatcha think?” 

“Too bright.” He tugged at a tiny bell. His other hand slipped behind your neck, pulling the hoodie’s hood inside-out past your cheek. “This side’s better.” 

The stars inside the hood glimmered, glowing a little - much to your surprise. Though you guess if any part of it was going to glow, then… 

You grinned. 

“Guess I’ll just have to swap it around then for the totally unbiased audience?” 

Now. 

You were ready to swap it. You were ready to awkwardly worm around with his arms still around you, since, well. You didn’t realize he could commit to the bit with the same dedication as you, but of course he could, and his hands were not moving. But you weren’t gonna back down. Hell no. 

You were not, however, ready for him to hum. 

Or for his fingers to slide to the neck of your hoodie and slip it off your shoulders. 

He handled it with the same ease he would helping a kid into their coat. The hoodie’s larger stars across the back shone in the low light, not glowing but still glistening as Moon held up your hoodie before his eyes with a pleased noise. 

Half light, half dark. Like his own paint. 

It was really well designed. 

Though you found you were having a hard time focusing on it, for some reason. 

His eyes flicked to you. 

“Up.” 

On autopilot, you raised your arms. He tugged it back onto you, fingers smoothing the ruffles down across your shoulders, before just. Hanging there. Close. 

Like, really close? 

Like. He made this odd little hum? His hands stayed on your shoulders long after the ruffles had been tamed. His arms twitched, slipping further across your shoulders. 

Something felt. Weirdly warm in your chest. 

And then he tugged the hood up over your head - down over your eyes with a little laugh, and something hard bonked into your forehead. Just once. 

“Looks good, Starlight.” 

And he was gone. 

You swore, rubbing your forehead as you yanked the hood back, trying to find him but to no avail, though you… didn’t know what you would have said. All the bluster had left the building. 

Somehow, you think. 

You might have lost the bet.

Moon trying so hard not to laugh or hug Y/N while Y/N is buying a fuck ton of Moon merchandise

ㅤ

[starryeyeddreamer21]

Characters as things I've said/heard people say

I went to the fair with my family so you get this

---

Angel: No regrets, if we die good riddance

----

Cherri: I would strap myself to a bomb for fun

----

Charlie: I haven't pet a cow in too long I think

----

Vaggie: *furious* All because I can't crochet

----

Husk: if I was a goat I'd uhhh umm I don't know I'd probably just be a goat... Sleep maybe?

----

Angel: I'm going to touch your ankles

Husk: What are you, some kind of Victorian pervert?

----

Charlie: *gasping and pointing to a sign* SUPER FRIED CHICKEN

Angel: Lame I want super SUPER fried chicken

----

Alastor: *watching pork roast* Gorgeous

----

Charlie: *feeding Vaggie* here comes the airplane

Alastor: ... That was embarrassing for both of you

----

Vaggie: *watching a man dressed as a cockroach walk by* The men have started morphing into their true forms

----

Cherri: Wouldn't it be funny if this place got set on fire

Charlie: No??? There would be a stampede

Cherri: Oh damn I would die

Charlie: No, you would stampede?

Cherri: I wouldn't run

Charlie: *sigh* yeah, of course not

----

Sir Pentious: If I died on a rollercoaster my last words would be "Wahoo"

----

Nifty: I need to destroy, I need to rip something to shreds with my bare hands

----

Lucifer and his Candy apple adventures a saga:

Lucifer: *holding a candy apple* oh hell yeah I'm gonna fuck this shit UP

-

Lucifer: *spits seed at Alastor*

Alastor: *doesn't notice*

Lucifer: *spits seed at Alastor*

Alastor: *looks around* ???

Lucifer: *spits seed at Alastor*

Alastor: *looks back at him* What are you doing?

Lucifer: Huh?

Lucifer: *spits seed at Alastor*

Alastor: WILL YOU STOP

Lucifer: What are you talking about????

Alastor: You're throwing something in my hair and on my shoulders and back-

Lucifer: *singing* head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes!

(my sister never figured out what I was doing 💀)

-

Lucifer: *still eating his candy apple* Why am I eating this like a chicken wing?

Charlie: Is that not how you're supposed to eat it?

Lucifer: You are absolutely right

-

Lucifer: *covered in candy apple* I'm sticky 🥺

-

Lucifer: *done with his candy apple but still chewing on the stick*

Alastor: *takes a bite of a mozzarella stick*

Lucifer: *gasps* MOZZARELLA STICKS

Alastor: *dips mozzarella sticks in marinara sauce and holds it out to Lucifer*

Lucifer: *reaches for it*

Alastor: *takes it back and glares*

Lucifer: what? oh- weirdo *eats it from his hand*

----

Lucifer: Can you bring me to the bathroom?

Alastor: I'm not carrying you

Lucifer: *rolls eyes* can you walk me to the-

Alastor: I might be able to find you a little red wagon

Lucifer: I'm going to punch you

----

Cherri: Froot loops are just-

Angel: *nods seriously* Gay Cheerios

----

Charlie: I need to find a bathroom to cry in asap

----

Vaggie: She's either drunk or high off something

Angel: I think it would be easier if I was high

----

Charlie: All I can smell is weed

Angel and Cherri: *deep inhale*

Charlie: NO

----

Alastor: Ugh there are so many people

Lucifer: I know I'm dying

----

Angel: *gasp* MY PHONE IS ON ONE PERCENT

Alastor: *completely monotone* oh no the horrors

----

Stranger: Is that your dad?

Husk: Do I look that old?

Angel: No, we're married

Stranger: Oh... you're married

Angel: *laughing* No

Husk: DO I LOOK THAT OLD????

----

Lucifer: *singing along* I can count on you like 4 3 2 you'll be there

Alastor: No I'd leave you

Lucifer: Yeah I know

Alastor: Like everyone else

Lucifer: oh

----

Nifty: *staring at crystals* Do I think they could heal me? No, I am beyond repair. Do I think they're so so so so pretty? YES!!! I NEED THEM

----

Lucifer: *overstimulated, angry, and grinning with tears in his eyes* I wish I could enjoy things

---

[malereadermaniac]

Cool about it. - Kuroo x Male Reader

I recommend looping the song while reading this <3 Tinge of angst with fluffy end word count: 1.6k m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI

Your chest hurt

You're used to the feeling, though it doesn't make it hurt any less

Walking home with Kuroo was a daily occurrence, just like his bragging about the number of confessions he had received that day

He always tries to tease you about how you "get no action (n/n)"

He doesn't know you're gay

You've tried to tell him before, but you chickened out after looking into your bestfriends eyes for a second too long

"And then there was this girl in my chem class............."

Kuroo babbles on

It hurts you

You get that funny feeling in your chest everything he talks about girls

But you never let your facade slip, and continue to pretend that you're interested and support him

By this point, it may as well be method acting

"How come you don't crush on any girls, (n/n)?"

" 'cause I don't like girls."

You didn't even think

It just slipped out

"Oh..."

You look up at the taller man with fear in your eyes

But he has a smirk on his lips

"How come you don't have the guys lining up then?" He teases

It didn't affect him whatsoever

Kuroo is a good friend to you, unconditional support no matter what

Anyone would be lucky to have a friend like him, so why did his support kill you on the inside

It gives you butterflies in the worst way possible...

"Hey! Wait for me, (n/n)!" Kuroo shouts from behind you

You tried to escape early today. Your heart couldn't really take more of his girl blabber

"Oh, sorry, Kuroo" you say with a small smile

The walk I again filled with his own talk about girls

But he pauses at one moment

"About what you said yesterday...."

"We don't have to talk about it" you interrupt quickly

You smile up at him and keep walking

Kuroo sighs but smiles back

Truth be told, Kuroo always rejected the girls that asked him out

He had put it down to the fact that a relationship would only add more stress to his life - he already gets only 4 hours of sleep because of his parents fighting

But recently, he's been thinking that he'd also rather spend time with you

And if he were I a relationship, then that would mean he couldn't

But he kept the thought to himself as he walked you home

Lying in bed late at night was something you usually did

But you looked at the alarm clock at said "3:00" in big red numbers and sighed

Those evil butterflies have returned, you'd been thinking about Kuroo again

Tears flowed down your cheeks as you breathed shallowly

You'd wished he was less of a good person

You'd wished that Kuroo would just be cruel about it and drop you after he'd found out you liked guys

But he didn't

He did the bare-minimum but it still made your heart flutter after he'd accepted you so easily

You lie on your side and continue to cry until your ducts are dry

Thinking about Kuroo until you'd fallen asleep

Just 10 minuets away, Kuroo was also awake in bed

Listening as his parents argue about idiotic things

He doesn't want a relationship like theirs

Kuroo's thoughts drift as his parents' argument fades into the background

He doesn't ever want a marriage like his parents. He wants to be friends with his lover

Get to know them really well, as well as he knows you

Then his thoughts drift to thoughts of you

Kuroo really liked you, the two of you clicked immediately when you were sat together in English

He was closer to you than with Kenma, and that's saying a lot

From admiring you as a friend, Kuroo's thoughts moved on to how cute you were

You took his teasing with a blush, and even teased him back sometimes

He then thought about how cute you looked - his type exactly but as a guy instead of a girl

He liked the nicknames you'd given each other, sort of like pet names

After a solid half an hour, Kuroo noticed his parents had gone to sleep and shut up, and that he'd been thinking about you for half an hour...

And his thoughts were definitely not very 'no homo'

A funny feeling filled his stomach as he thought about you again

Kuroo fell asleep finally, but the thought of you didn't leave his mind

School the next day was a little different

Kuroo still met you early in the morning to walk with you, and there was the normal complaining about his parents

He only did that with you, he was comfortable around you

But his blabber about girls was missing, it gave you a well needed break...

During English, you noticed him staring at you a lot

"You good, Roo?" You whisper warmly

His eyes stared into yours for a second too long

"I'm great..." he whispers with a smile, it made your heart pang

You wish you could have him as more than a friend, but it'll pass (you hope)

You'll forget about it.

Break and lunch was normal with the guys, but Kuroo was a lot more touchy with you than normal

An arm around the shoulder was normal, but asking you to feed him as he sat behind you and hugged you was strange

You'd almost had it by the end of volleyball

He kept looking over to you and smirking, it made you feel uneasy

And when one of the guys asked him about the girl in chem

Kuroo responded in a way that made you feel sick yo your stomach

"Nah, I'd rather spend time with (n/n) than her"

You were silent on your way back home, mumbling responses to Kuroo's "are you okay?"s

You felt ill from the mix of emotions

When you felt his hand on yours, you snapped

Your heart was pounding, and your face went pale

"WHAT IS UP WITH YOU TODAY??!"

Lucky you were both in front of your house and not in the middle of the street

"What do you mean, (n/n)?" Kuroo tries to reach for you and calm you down

"Don't (n/n) me, Kuroo. You've made my day hell today with all the mixed signals... I guess you figured it out and decided to tease me. You've taken it too far!"

Kuroo was worried

Worried to lose you over something he had no idea about, worried that this argument reminded him of his parents, worried him that he may lose you as more than just a friend

"Mixed signals? What do you mean, (y/n)??"

Kuroo was pleading, his face full of sadness and worry

"Don't play dumb... you figured out I like you and... and you're being a dick about it"

Kuroo's world stops

"You... like me?" Kuroo says confused, but then a smile starts to form

"Great..." tears spill from your eyes

"You didn't know and now I've told you. I'm sorry, Kuroo... you can pretend you never heard that." You say as your tears drop onto your shirt and the floor

You rush into your house, locking the door as Kuroo shouts for you to come back put and talk

A day passed by

Kuroo tried to talk to you in the morning, but you shut him down with a short "later"

Everyone noticed the two of you weren't talking

Your day was consumed by him, and vice versa

It felt like you were drowning in the emotions and thoughts of only one thing: Kuroo

By routine, you head over to the volleyball court

"(Y/n) we have to talk"

Your skin crawls and you jump from the surprise

You turn around and see a glum looking Kuroo

"Yeah, we need to talk about it at some point..."

The two of you head towards a more secluded area

Your hearts racing

Your chest is in an indescribable kind of pain

You feel so ill, you might hurl

"I'll start, I guess..." you say quietly

Kuroo stays quiet and listens

"I promise I didn't like like you since the beginning... I did see you as a friend. It's just that for the past year, I've had these feelings that I can't explain"

"I think I know the feeling you're talking about, (n/n).... that panging feeling in your chest and heart"

You feel warm from the nickname

You look into his eyes and smile

"Yeah... those fucking butterflies..."

"I'm sorry that I like you, it's a lot to put on you... plus you like girls so I know it's an impossible situation" you say with a defeated chuckle as your eyes fall to the ground

"No!"

Kuroo's shout brings your eyes back up to his

"I- I like you too! Or at least... I think so? I've always liked girls but with you... I like you more than any girl I've ever dated! When I think of the kind of relationship I want with someone, I think of the one I have with you! It's all slipped passed me until now but..."

"(Y/n)... I think I'm in love with you!"

Your heart skips a beat

Tears flood your eyes, and you and Kuroo both go in for a hug

Not for a kiss, there's still a lot more talking to do before you can both get the sweet relief of a kiss

But a tight, long hug will do for now

Those evil butterflies have been replaced with good ones

You're chest no longer hurts

[crljhnn]

Maybe It's Enough

Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Reader

Summary: Robin thinks you don't like her back, so she encourages Steve to take you out on a date. You think Robin doesn't like you back, so you agree to let Steve take you out on a date.

No use of y/n; lesbian reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: slight hints of / implied homophobia

[also posted on AO3]

The first time you actively realized that you were different was when you were 12.

You were lying on your bedroom floor, surrounded by your friends, looking through a magazine targeted towards young teenage girls.

You vividly remember your friends going on and on, gushing about the male actors and musicians featured in the newest edition, who were striking suggestive poses while smirking directly at the camera. You, on the other hand, only felt weak in the knees if the article displayed their girlfriends or female co-stars as well.

You grew up pretty sheltered, so it wasn't until a few nights later that you found out that women who were attracted to other women existed.

You were sneaking down the stairs to get yourself a bottle of water when you overheard your mother gossiping on the phone about a church friend's daughter, who was spending an awful amount of time with that new girl, Susan. Apparently, there have been rumors that she has been bringing shame upon her family and disgracing the church for quite a while.

Hearing the disgust in your mother's voice awoke a discomfort within you about your own emotions. You found yourself going back and forth between entertaining your suspicions and reassuring yourself that you simply hadn't met the right guy yet (that's at least what your older sister told you when you confided in her).

This maybe, maybe not spiel ended when you met Robin in your shared math class during your freshman year. She was somewhat angsty and awkward, and you were instantly in love. You didn't manage to muster up the courage to speak to her during that school year, though.

In your sophomore year, you were almost sure that Robin was gay. You caught her looking dreamingly at a little too many female classmates, a little too often. Also, from what you heard, she never had a boyfriend or openly expressed interest in any of the boys.

At the end of junior year, you were almost certain that Robin was into you. The staring was now reserved solely for you, and she constantly sat close, but never directly next to you. She also always started that cute nervous ramble when you tried to talk to her, and then always found a way to prematurely end the conversation.

"Sorry, I think I left my water bottle in the cafeteria. Bye!"

When you found out that Robin started working at Scoobs, you were tempted to go and visit her; this way, she was forced to talk to you. You nearly chickened out in the parking lot and had to hype yourself up for nearly half an hour just to be met with Steve "the Hair" Harrington when you got up to the counter.

You took that as a sign not to show up at Scoops again. Plus, now that you thought about it, what were you even supposed to talk about? The ice cream flavor?

That's why you were thankful when she started at the local video store. Movies were definitely something you could talk about for hours.

It wasn't as easy as you thought, though. Every time you came by, she was either busy organizing a section on the complete opposite end of the store or she was in the back. When you tried talking to her, she would always redirect you to Steve.

"I'm kind of busy right now, but I'm sure Steve can help you with whatever movie you are looking for. He is right over there."

Always rushed and always without looking at you.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Robin actually despised you, and you completely misinterpreted her behavior. She probably thought you were some kind of stalker, keen on disrupting her at work.

---

"I swear she likes you, dingus! She is here all the time." Robin has been trying to convince Steve that you were head over heels in love with him for the last 10 minutes.

He was exasperated, standing in his typical mom stance with one hand on his hip. "She does not! Family Video is like the only video store anywhere close; that's why she comes here a lot."

"Well, she came to Scoops as well, when we were still working there!"

Steve probably doesn't even remember you showing up at their old job, but Robin does. She remembers how pretty you looked, how your outfit complimented your figure, and how your hair perfectly framed your face. She remembers it being a lot more nerve-racking than seeing you in school. This was a new environment, a whole new situation. She couldn't look at you from a desk behind you, hiding behind a book, if you decided to glance in her direction.

Before she was able to properly think about it, she had already headed to the back, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Wow, now I can't deny it anymore! It's not like half of Hawkins has been there at least once, and by your logic, she could be into you as well."

Robin wishes, with every cell in her body, that even the slightest glimmer of truth could lie in this statement. But it's not true. It couldn't be. And she has to remind herself of that. That way, it won't hurt as much when you end up with Steve or some other boy.

"Then why does she only ever talk to you, huh?"

"Because you run to the back as soon as she gets anywhere close to you!"

"And I'm doing both of you a favor. She comes here to talk to you and then gets too nervous to actually pull through with it. That's why she comes up to me."

"I think you are overthinking it."

And Robin definitely is, but at this point, she had already talked herself way too far into it.

"Trust me. I'm a girl. I should know stuff like that better than you."

"Yeah, 'cause you know so well what it's like to crush on a guy?"

"No, but I know what it's like to be a girl with a crush. Just ask her out."

Please don't.

"You sure?"

No

"Yes."

So that's exactly what Steve did.

---

The next time you visit the store, he makes sure to put on his especially charming smile, being right by your side as soon as you enter. He goes the full nine yards. Compliments your eyes, your outfit, carries the movies you picked out to the counter. After he finishes the process of checking them out, he is ready to make his final move. With whatever he has left of the famous Harrington charm, he asks you if you'd like to go out with him this weekend.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm really busy, you know, with school and everything. Sorry."

Rejection.

Steve only takes a second to recover. Even though Robin was sure of your attraction to him, he was still kind of expecting this. Regardless, Steve feels the urge to explain himself.

"No, it's totally fine. Really! I honestly wouldn't even have assumed that you were into me, but Robin was really insistent, so I thought I'd try my luck. No hard feelings."

"Robin told you to ask me out?"

"Yeah, why?"

That was the final nail in the coffin. Of course, she didn't like you. Why else would she try to set you up with her best friend? All the "signs" you saw were probably spun up by your imagination, caused by wishful thinking. Your own feelings must have clouded your judgment. You're embarrassed and sad. Maybe it is stupid and naive to expect to find a girl in a small town like Hawkins who is not only your type and assumably gay but also likes you back.

Maybe you should go on a date with Steve.

He really seemed like a changed man. He was unarguably attractive, even you could admit that. He was kind and, most importantly, interested in you. Maybe that's enough.

Maybe you were also a tiny bit driven by selfishness. Maybe you wanted to make yourself feel a bit better about receiving the confirmation that the girl you had been pining for for years simply wasn't into you.

For a moment, you felt bad for Steve. It would be unfair to lead him on like that, but let's be honest. From what you heard, that guy goes on three dates a week. How likely is it that he would go into this date with the expectation of finding his one true love?

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I would actually really like to go out with you. I really am busy, you know, with all the exams coming up."

Lies, there was nothing to study for the next two weeks. The only plan you currently had for this weekend was to cry over Robin.

"But I am free the weekend after, if that works for you?" You played that off nicely, right?

It seemed like you did because Steve's face lit up.

„Great, if you give me your number, I could just call you to talk about the specifics.“

„Yeah sure.“

While you focus on writing down your number on the piece of paper Steve slips you, he turns around to give Robin a thumbs up. Even though she tried to look just as happy as he did, anyone paying even a little attention could have seen that she was not okay. Her face scrunched up in a painful smile. Fortunately for her, Steve was way too distracted by the euphoric feeling of scoring a date to recognize his best friend's torment.

---

"You know, I was skeptical at first because I never felt that romantic vibe with her. She never seemed interested in me in that way. But now I'm so happy I asked her out. Like, she's so effortlessly beautiful and funny, and she is also really smart, you know?"

Yeah, Robin knows. She knew all this about you better than anyone else. Steve didn't even know yet how beautiful, funny, and smart you really are. But Robin had no doubt he was going to find out soon.

And she was going to die.

Okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic, but it will definitely feel like it.

"I could even imagine her being, like, the one, you know. I think what I've been doing wrong is going on dates with women I don't even know or with women who only know me from my "King Steve" days. They all have these weird expectations about how I'm supposed to act. But I got to know her over the last few months. And I know I'm actually able to hold a conversation with her, one that's not about high school."

Robin feels like she is going to throw up. Steve acted like he always did when he was interested in a girl: idealizing her and already imagining their house with a white-picked fence and their six little nuggets. She knew she would get over it eventually, even if you actually ended up together, but your first real crush will always hold a special place, especially your first lesbian crush. And Steve just couldn't shut up.

"Do you have an idea where I could take her? We were talking on the phone last night, and she told me to just come up with something. I really don't want to mess this up right at the beginning by picking the wrong thing."

Robin never wished to be an attractive teenage boy as much as she did at that moment. She wanted late-night phone calls with you, and she wanted the trouble of not knowing where to take you on a date.

She had also thought about going on a date with you for years, so yes, she definitely had an idea.

For a second, she considered not telling Steve to be selfish and not letting him live out the fantasy that had been keeping her company for the last two years. This urge, however, was overpowered by her need to make you happy. That's what she wanted most—for you to be happy and have a good time. So she told Steve all about your favorite music genre and to watch out for any small bands giving concerts somewhat close.

---

Meanwhile, you were still grieving this whole Robin disaster. How the hell did your regular visits to the video store, intending to talk to Robin, score you a date with her best friend?

Yet, you found yourself genuinely looking forward to your plans with Steve. His idea of driving a few towns over where a small band you never heard of, though the flyer suggested that the music would fit your taste to a T, was giving one of their first concerts, which was actually the most fun date you could imagine.

Even if you didn't like him romantically, you would still have a good time. And you thought it was admirable that he would plan something that fits your taste so well. Now that you think about it, you don't remember ever discussing your music taste or your fable for small underground bands with him. You don't know how he knew; perhaps you mentioned it casually, or maybe it was just a lucky guess.

---

Steve turns up at 5 p.m. sharp. He is standing in front of your door, with a bouquet of flowers, in an outfit you know he will stand out in at the rather shady bar the band is playing at.

The one-hour-long drive ends up being surprisingly entertaining, and for the first time in your life, you kind of wish to be straight. You often wished to not be gay, to "be normal," or to fit in, but never before did you specifically wish to be into men. But right now, you do. Because Steve is kind and charming and attentive and funny while also being insanely attractive, and you just wish you could fall for him. Because you know that would be the easiest thing to do if you were into men.

But you are not.

And now you are driving back home, and you are sitting next to Steve in his car while he rants about how positively surprised he was by the band and how they are definitely one of his favorites now, and you just feel bad. He clearly had a good time, and he hinted at his interest in you and a second date multiple times over the evening. You just know that you have to come clean.

After your sister's reaction, you never considered coming out to anyone in Hawkins again, well, except Robin, but definitely not to "King Steve." You honestly don't even know why, but somehow you really want to tell him. Perhaps you're driven by guilt; after all, you had a great time, and the thought of rejecting him with a shitty excuse feels wrong. Moreover, continuing to lead him on would be worse.

Steve turned out to be a decent guy, right? You dearly hope that you are not making a horrible, irreversible mistake by coming out to him.

"I really had a good time tonight."

"Yeah? Me too. I was thinking we could repeat this, whe-"

His enthusiasm about going out with you again made you feel sick.

"Steve"

His face falls when he detects your tone, realizing you are about to reject him.

"Oh."

"Look, I really had a great time, and you are a great guy, but I'm actually not into boys. I'm sorry."

That's it. You put your cards on the table, full vulnerability. There is no way to misunderstand what you just said.

Or so you thought.

"I understand. You want a man, someone who will be able to take care of you. Not some boy who didn't even get into college. I know my future isn't looking the best right now. I'm probably gonna be stuck working in a video store for minimum wage till I retire. But-"

"No, Steve, what? What I was trying to say was that I'm a lesbian. I like girls. I'm sorry for leading you on."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"But why did you agree to go on a date with me then?"

Did you really want to tell him the whole truth? If you told him about your crush, you have no doubt that it would reach the girl of your affection herself, and you really didn't need that. However, being so open about something you hardly ever told anyone, and him not reacting outright badly, kind of made you want to tell him about your feelings for his coworker as well. You already told him your biggest secret; what's one more?

"When you said that Robin told you to ask me out... man, this is so embarrassing to say out loud. I just kind of like her, like really like her, and her encouraging you to date me kind of made it clear that she does not feel the same. And I just thought, I don't know, the rejection kind of stung, and feeling wanted, especially by someone like you, felt kind of nice. I didn't think it would go as well as it did, considering your dating history. Sorry, was that mean? You know what I'm trying to say. But you are great, and now I feel shitty, not just for being indirectly rejected but also for using you as a distraction and ego push. I'm sorry."

You're too scared to look at Steve. Completely focused on looking anywhere but him while your brain keeps listing reasons why you are a horrible person.

At the same time, Steve's thoughts are running a thousand miles per hour. He's disappointed, sure. He likes you and, until a second ago, really hoped to build a relationship with you. Now, however, more present was the goal of setting you up with Robin. This was perfect. All her rants about never finding another gay person in Hawkins he had to listen to, and now he not only found someone who was gay, he found someone who already liked his best friend. Or you found him.

Now the question emerged: What's the best way to go about this? His first instinct was to tell you to just ask Robin out, but by doing that, he was basically outing her, so maybe not the best idea. Additionally, he didn't even know if Robin liked you back. That's it. Before he does anything, he should try to find out if your feelings are reciprocated. Or if Robin is at least interested in getting to know you romantically.

With this plan in mind, he first assures you that he has absolutely no problem with gay people, even if he is a bit clumsy at finding the right words to express it, and then drops you off at home. He is about to have a long night, planning to figure out the best way to unsuspiciously find out if Robin likes you back and how to hype you up in case she isn't sure yet.

---

The next day, he shows up at Family Video, ready to put his plan into action. Robin, however, is dreading to come in today. She doesn't know how she will last a whole day with Steve telling her how perfect the two of you are for each other and how well your date went. She just knows you two had a great time. If she hadn't been certain already, she would have reached the conclusion at the very latest when Steve basically came skipping into work, smiling with giddy excitement.

For the first three hours, Robin is surprisingly successful at dodging Steve's attempts at conversation. However, her luck runs out when he decides that both of them will have an early lunch break since it is a pretty slow day and there is really nothing to do. She can hardly say no to that, at least not without awaking suspicions. So after Steve does a quick food run and picks up some baked goods from a nearby bakery, the two sit down next to each other, each with a fresh pastry in front of them. That's when Steve sees his chance at being your hypeman.

"... and you know, I feel that's something not a lot of people do, like it's rare you find someone like that. And she is also just a great listener, like she does not only listen; she actually hears what you say. You know what I mean?"

This is hell. No, Robin bets hell is a whole lot nicer than this. It has to be. Nothing could be as awful as your best friend going on a ten-minute monologue about how perfect your crush is and what a great time they had on their date.

"So what do you think? You've known her for a while; do you think she's cool?"

"Yeah, she is. I'm glad your date went so well, and I think it's great you found someone. I'm really happy for you. So when are you going out again?"

Wait.

That is not what Steve was trying to achieve. Stop! Abort mission!

"Oh, we are not going out again."

Robin nearly chokes on her croissant. Eyes wide, coughing, she nearly spits out what she didn't manage to force down her throat.

"What do you mean you won't go out again? You literally just went on a ten-minute rant about how great she is!"

"Yeah, she is. But she's not interested in me. She already likes someone else."

Robin doesn't understand how her best friend can be so nonchalant about this. He seems absolutely unfazed, talking to her as if the reality that the most perfect girl does not like him back is the most basic fact, that he has absolutely no negative feelings about. Did he recently become extremely good at acting? There is no way he was able to hide his feelings so well.

"Steve, I am so sorr-"

"No, it's fine. Really, I'm okay. I actually wouldn't be affected at all if she started seeing this person. Like, I'd be really happy for both of them. No negative feelings on my part at all."

Okay, now he was acting weird. And why would you say yes to the date in the first place, if you already had your eyes on someone else? So she asks him about it.

"She believes her crush doesn't like her back, so she thought there was no harm in going on a date with me. But she is definitely not interested in me in the slightest!"

"Well, that's bullshit. Who wouldn't like her? I mean, she is everything! She is smart, pretty, compassionate, and talented. She is the full package. There is no way anyone would say no to her. I thin-"

Steve stops comprehending what she says after that, too occupied with his own thoughts. How could he have been so oblivious? The hiding in the back? The constant redirection to him? Her inability to speak to you? She wasn't giving you the opportunity to talk to him; she was too nervous to talk to you herself. Robin had a big fat crush on you, and it was so obvious now that he was paying attention.

Steve's ecstatic. Now all that was left to do was set you two up.

---

This was easier said than done. For a few days, he tried and tried to come up with a way to get you two together without telling either one about the other's feelings. However, this was nearly impossible with how much you two insisted on avoiding each other, each dealing with their own heartbreak, still believing their feelings weren't reciprocated.

At some point, the frustration became too overwhelming, and he reached the conclusion that he was going to have to out at least one of you to the other. His first thought is to just put you two in a room, drop the bomb, and then leave you to it. Steve decides against this, fearing you would both be too awkward to move forward from this.

He contemplates who could handle the situation better and decides that telling you is probably the right choice. Happy with the prospect of finally freeing himself of this burden, he gives you a quick call, informing you of his need for a conversation, and then makes his way over.

---

"Why did you have to tell me? Why couldn't you tell Robin? Now I have to make the move, and I'm probably gonna embarrass myself soo bad!"

After getting over the shock that Robin reciprocated your feelings (at least to Steve's suspicions), you relatively quickly became frantic, mad that he put you in a position where you had to be the one to act. Why couldn't he tell her? After all, is she his best friend? And he knows that you like her, for sure. Even though he swears to be sure about Robin's feelings as well, he never actually heard her admit it out loud.

"Don't get your panties in a twist. I have the perfect, foolproof plan."

"Ew, don't say that word."

"What? Plan?"

"Shut up. So what's your great plan?"

The relationship between you and Harrington has gotten a lot more casual and familiar since your "date." You never expected it, but you are really glad to call him a close friend now.

"Okay, listen up. You're going to come to Family Video tomorrow, bring some takeout, or better prepare some food yourself, and tell Robin you and I made plans to have lunch together."

"Wait, I thought you had the day off tomorrow?"

"I have. So you are going to be all disappointed, having prepared all that food for nothing. So you will offer to share with her instead. It's the only logical thing. You wouldn't want to waste the food."

"That's the worst plan I've ever heard. That's so lame, Steven!"

"Don't call me Steven. And it's brilliant! You will get a nice romantic date without making it look like you're doing too much."

You're still not convinced, but you don't have a better idea, so you agree.

---

"Hi, Robin!"

"Oh, hi, hello, what's up?" What the fuck? Get yourself together. "What are you doing here?" Robin has been paranoid since Steve voiced his suspicion about her feelings for you. If completely oblivious Steve could see it, could you too?

"Is Steve here? We have plans for lunch." You demonstratively hold up the two lunch boxes you brought.

You spent hours yesterday racking your brain about what to prepare. What would Robin enjoy the most? What can you cook without messing it up, especially if you're this nervous? All while you also considered what you could eat without embarrassing yourself. You don't want to sit there and have half the contents of your burger fall all over your hands. Or get food stuck between your teeth without noticing. And what could you transport over without ruining it in the process? Would the food stay warm for long enough? Or should you pick a meal that is served at room temperature? In the end, you called Steve and cooked the first thing he suggested, following his advice not to overthink it.

"Steve is not scheduled for today."

"Oh."

"That's so typical, this dingus. I'll call him; give me a minute."

"It's fine. Would you maybe like to share? My lunch break will be over till he gets here. I mean, I already cooked and brought the food. If you don't have any other plans, we could share it. Unless you don't want to. That would be fine as well. I don't-"

"I want to."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, nice. Let me just set up."

"Oh, of course, I'll show you the break room. Follow me."

The awkwardness dies quickly. Talking to Robin with the knowledge that she likes you back makes you a lot more relaxed around her. There aren't any weird periods of silence, and you feel a warmth and connection you never felt before.

With that, you finally work up the courage to ask her out. After years of pining, you are really about to do it.

"I wanted to ask you something, and it is totally okay if you say no. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. If you don't want to, we can just forget that I ever asked, so-"

"Just spit it out. Rambling is my thing, and you are not allowed to steal that." Robin tries to lighten the mood and take away from your clear nervousness.

"Would you like to go out with me sometime? Like, on a date."

"But Steve said- WAIT! I am the one you like?"

"Yeah."

"Damn."

"So?"

"I would really like to go out with you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

[absolutebl]

Mirror mirror on the wall,who are the top 5 greenest flags of them all?

ooof, this is more @heretherebedork than my cuppa but lemme see

you didn't specify seme or country so that makes my life easier, because bettcha can't guess who's gonna top this list

My Top 5 Greenest Flags in BL!

Noh from Love Sick

Look, he's just like the Nicest Little Dude. He's loyal and kind and good to his friends, and tries really hard to communicate the truth and be honest about his feelings even when he's a crazy hormonal teen and doesn't understand his own or anyone else's. Noh is not just any green flag he's a teenager green flag. That never happens.

Xun An from My Tooth You Love

He is so damn sweet and thoughtful and he tries so hard to protect everyone (except himself). But it's that moment in the car where he finally understands the extent of his baby's psychological issues that we all got to meet The Real Deal. Because what does he do? OMG he actually recommends Bai Lang seek professional help, from an actual therapist! Like that's THE MOMENT. The biggest green flag balls we have ever seen in a BL. Ever. I will brook no discussion on this matter.

Plustor from Destiny Seeker

Bite me. I know you haven't seen this. How do I know? No one has seen this show. Such a shame. Plustor is 1/2 of the 3rd-string couple, the crumbs, the freshmen babies. Most of the drama is with the 2 older pairs, but these boys are GREAT. One of them is out gay (with his shit together) who hooks up with hot jock CHAOS bisexual and we all think we know where it's going (because when does the chaos bi have his shit together and not act like a predator slut? - yes I AM looking at you, Mame). Except, Plustor fucking TOTALLY has his shit together! He researches gay sex and how to do it right, he asks his new bf questions, he communicates his self-confidence issues over never having been with a dude before. He talks. They talk. As a result these kids spend most of the show annoyed by the unnecessary drama of their piers who do NOT have their shit together and being the best bfs ever.

Mork from My Ride

What, you surprised? Mork goes through an entire identity crisis and manages NOT to drag anyone else into his drama. He keeps his life together, takes care of his family, asks his gay uncles for advice, realizes he is in love. He does not force that love on his beloved. Instead he stays in the side lines, tries to be a good supportive friend to the object of his affection, and a consistently chooses the path of decent human being. He's careful and kind and communicative when he eventually does make his move. Stand up dude! Adorable dimple! We likie.

Yak from Wandee Goodday

I feel like I have to include someone from this year because Green Flag Semes are such a 2024 trend. For me, it just had to be Yak. He such a great communicator and he just defines the GGG (good, giving, game) attitude that one wants in a sexual partner. I gotta say, it's actually not uncommon to have better sexual communication with a play partner or a fuck buddy than within a relationship. It was nice to see that portrayed on our screens in a BL. Whatcha know, mature characters being mature and shizz. Insanity.

I have to say, if you had given me 6, Alan from Pit Babe would have also made this list.

Others I Thought About

Seryou (Seven Days)

Kakeru (I Cannot Reach You)

Ida (My Love Mix Up)

Kyosuke (Sugar Dog Life) - does cluelessness count?

Kazuma (Tokyo in April)

Both in Some More

Qizhang (About Youth)

Sato (See You After Quarantine?)

Tatch (2 Moons 3)

X (21 Days Theory)

King (Bed Friend)

Khun (Brothers)

Karan (Cherry Magic)

Fueangnakhon (City of Stars)

Gun (Tossera)

Ram (La Cuisine)

Ae (Love By Chance) - I'm WELL AWARE I'm picking a Mame character

God (Monster Next Door)

Li (Moonlight Chicken)

Sun (Sunset X Vibes)

Latte (Knock Knock Boys)

Moo (Only Boo!)

Rome (Puppy Honey)

Alan (Pit Babe)

Touch, Sky (Secret Crush on You)

Na (Tonhon Chonlatee)

Tan (We Are)

San (You're My Sky)

Oh should I define what green flag means to me?

respectful: no dubious consent, takes no for an answer and stops, alcohol is not an excuse,

honest: depicted demonstrating good communication - verbal, emotional, physical

safe: practices safe sex

decent: no violations (emotional, ethical, moral, sexual, cultural, or ya know legal) like breaking into his fucking hotel room

dependable: I'd be fine if my nibbling were trapped in an elevator with him

kind: forthright and not inclined to be manipulative

(source)

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 7129

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

12. Pôt de crème

Mary

That day really winds up feeling like the epitome of a terrible horrible, no good, very bad fucking day for Mary, and it starts early. Leaving the apartment for work after the massage cocktease from Hell is odd.

She’s left feeling happy to have helped, but also hurt, disappointed, and mad at herself, of all things. That was the perfect opportunity for her to make a move and finally force those two to tell her that they’re not interested! (Though a small and pitifully thirsty part of her brain still exists in the fantasy land where they’d take her up on it.) But she’d chickened out and kept it strictly platonic. Ugh. Lame.

She manages not to think about it for a while, as she gets into the rhythm of her day at the bakery. She still can’t shake the cloud of anxiety and irritability looming over her, though. The good old days of any lasting effects from Bucky’s drops are gone, and instead she’s left to slowly percolate a bad mood as she clocks in and figures out the best order to get her projects done for that day.

Dennis is the manager on schedule, which sucks because Mary’s never liked him, but he’s in the office for the most part, since he’s a stuck up do-nothing, and she's able to pretend that she’s alone. 

No matter though. She can’t focus on anything, feels overly emotional, and almost breaks out in tears when she drops a tray of cupcakes on the floor. She manages to hold it together as she cleans up the mess, and moves onto the next task. Her list for the day now feels miserably long, and she doesn’t even enjoy decorating the base-iced babycakes that are waiting for her from yesterday. She fucks up the writing on one of them and loses her shit over something that is not worth losing her shit over. That’s the stupid thing that finally pushes her to tears, and she tosses her piping bag angrily onto the counter, what the fucking herself and feeling like she’s going crazy. 

Like baseball, there’s no crying in kitchens: That’s what the walk-in’s for. So, she hides back by the dairy products until she’s able to pull herself together. She comes out shivering, not crying, and in a horrible mood. 

Buttercream is next, so she gets the sugar boiling and the egg whites whisking in the forty quart. She tries to talk herself up in her head as she goes through motions of streaming in the sugar and then scaling the butter she’ll add to it once it’s whipped cool. “You’re not bad at your job,” she mumbles to herself, trying to push the threat of tears away with positive thoughts. “You’re not.”

Jesus fuck, why is she feeling like this? Nothing that bad has even happened! So she dropped some fucking cupcakes, so what? It happens. She checks her phone to see if she’s about to get her period, but that’s not it. Her focus is shit, so of course she eventually goes back to thinking about Bucky and Steve. 

Today is Bucky’s day off. Mary thinks about him being in pain that morning and how his movements had been crippled by pain. … She thinks about his broad, muscled back under her hands, his warm skin, the moans of relief he’d given whenever she worked out a knot. Poor guy. Even though she hates to think of enduring it again, she has to admit to herself that she does care about Bucky, and she would endure it if he needed her help. Hell, if it’s something that’ll help him in the long run, she’ll have to do at least one or two more massage sessions to teach Steve the ropes so he can help his husband in her absence.

Bucky doesn’t want her to do it. She pouts about that, but scolds herself as soon as she realizes she’s doing so. Don’t be lame over guys who don’t want you. So Bucky and Steve just want to be gay together in peace, so what? Why is she losing her shit over the tiniest rejection like this?!

She ruminates on it while she’s at the stove stirring a massive batch of pôt de crème custard, and it occurs to her that the part she’s actually most upset about isn’t their platonic feelings for her: it’s her own lack of bravery and straightforwardness with Bucky and Steve, and how she’s become such a pathetic wallflower over the past few months. 

Maybe if she’d flat out asked about a romantic relationship from the beginning, she could’ve gotten the rejection out of the way and been putting herself out there to meet someone new by now. She might’ve met a Dom at one of the Center’s socials, or at least could’ve been swiping the apps and going on dates. Getting laid.

But instead suddenly she’s turned into a shy girl (obnoxious). She hasn’t been a virgin since college, and it wasn’t like she wasn’t sleeping with whoever she could get her hands on, back before Steve and Bucky 'adopted' her. She’d been so good at it back then, saying what she meant and going for what she wanted, dragging at least one new guy back to her place to fuck every other week. Why can’t she just do something now? 

Frowning, she decides that she will do something over it. The ideal would be to move back to her own place, but she can’t with the custody order in place and Dr. Linda on Bucky’s side. Gritting her teeth, she figures she’ll do the next best thing: she’ll start getting laid again. She’ll go out and meet people. She’ll go out straight after work each day. Unless he wants to physically tie her up and keep her prisoner in the apartment, Bucky can’t stop it. 

She’s just got to work up the nerve to break his rules like that. Nerve which, in her current mood, seems quite out of reach. She sighs and reaches up to grab the Grand Marnier off the shelf for the pôt de crème. All she feels like doing now is going back to the apartment and crawling into bed, to be honest. She wonders if this is what actual clinical depression feels like. Maybe. Maybe worse. Sarcastically, she thinks that a shot or three of alcohol would certainly help, and then she pauses with her hand on the bottle as she’s about to pour it into the custard. Oh. 

She’s not drinking anymore. 

Fuck. That’s it. She’s hardly ever had sex sober in her life. Barely ever even flirted without some liquid courage in her system. That’s what’s changed. She always used pick up guys in bars, or at other places where everybody had a drink in their hand. And at home at her apartment, whenever the creeping buildup of anxiety and irritability would get to be too much, a couple vodka sprites were what made her feel better. She pauses in her stirring. Thinking about it now is making her almost physically yearn for a stiff one. 

She looks down at the bottle in her hand, shame coloring her cheeks as soon as she has the thought. Even at her worst, Mary never drank on the job. She grimaces at herself and hurriedly sets the bottle back on the shelf before temptation can win out, then turns back to the stove.

“Fuck!” she hisses, scrambling to turn off the burner when she’s met with the sight of lumpy pôt de crème. She whisks it frantically to try and stop it, but it’s too far gone: The eggs in the custard have curdled. She throws her head back and groans. “God dammit!”

She makes a last ditch effort to save it by dumping the lumpy custard into a Cambro, tossing in a few ice cubes, and furiously burr-mixing it with the immersion blender, but it’s no use. She’s irrevocably ruined a massive batch of dessert (with the expensive liqueur already added in it, to boot) because she wasn’t paying attention. Growling, she dumps it all in the trash bin before Dennis can happen to walk by and see, then stomps back to the fridge to grab ingredients to rescale the recipe.

She lines up sheet trays of paper dessert cups on her workstation table for decanting … and takes one cup with her over to the stove while she stands there and cooks the second batch of pôt de crème.

It’s when she’s stirring and pouring that second measure of liqueur into the pot that she gives into impulse and pours a shot’s worth of the stuff into the extra paper baking cup—that she now realizes she brought over for this express purpose in the first place. She gives the empty kitchen a furtive glance, and tosses it back. “Ugh.” 

Orange flavored liqueur? Really Mary?

She hears the rebuke in Bucky’s voice in her head, which is annoying and drives her to repeat the action once she’s drank the first. She tosses back a second. Gross gross gross. She checks the label on the bottle: 40% ABV. Good. She puts the bottle back on the shelf, pissed about feeling so uncomfortable in her skin that she stubbornly refuses to feel guilty over her actions, and finishes cooking the custard to a smooth nappé this time. Perfect. 

She pours the custard over the white chocolate and lets it melt. She burr mixes it, strains it. Ready to go.

Later maybe she’ll feel bad about it, but as she grabs the sauce gun and begins the tedious process of dispensing the pôt de crème into the cups, that warm, pleasant feeling of a buzz starts to creep up on her, and she finds herself in a better mood before long. Things seem brighter, and she finally feels like she can breathe. She’s able to think about Bucky and Steve without feeling like a piece of dirt, and even laughs about the stupid massage episode. Two shots of liqueur on an empty stomach makes that seem like not such a big deal, and she simply decides that she won’t volunteer for massage duty anymore, because obviously it was a mistake. She’d liked helping Bucky to feel better when he was hurting, but not enough to make up for having to endure the very non-platonic swooping in her belly she’d gotten from having her hands all over his naked back. Fuck, is he ever hot. Both of them are. They’re bodies are just, guh. 

She doesn’t need that frustration in her life.

She’s got a moderate buzz by the time she finishes her next project, and she cheerfully bops onto her next task. 

It’s such a relief, not having that heavy feeling of anxiousness and general uncomfortability weighing down on her. Jeez, she hadn’t even realized how bad it had gotten. She forgot how much a few drinks helped. She gets giddy and chases that feeling, quickly sneaking another quick shot (this time of the rum they use on the rum buns, though, because it really was gross that she drank that liqueur straight—blecgh). What’s one more quick drink in between batches of cakes going in and out of the oven, after all?

… And then just once more, after she’s added the last chunk of the butter into the whipping forty quart. By the time she’s got everything set out to basic-build the next bunch of babycakes, she’s in a great mood. It’s almost as good as the subspace had been, back in the beginning with Bucky. She hums songs under her breath and moves around the kitchen assembling and icing the cute little five inch cakes that are her specialty.

It’s her pet project, something she’d suggested to Mr. Flaherty, the bakery’s owner. Not only are they friggin’ adorable, they’re easy to bang out a bunch of them all at once, small enough to cost pennies to make, and big enough and cute enough that people are willing to pay way more than the cakes are actually worth. Mary knows for a fact that they have the highest profit margin of any item in the bakery. She’s privately very proud that Mr. Flaherty had listened to her idea and decided it was something they would offer on the regular menu. Dennis had underplayed it—like the jealous killjoy he is. 

Mary celebrates her good mood with another teeny sip of booze and then spends extra effort on smooth-icing in all the best pastel colors, thinking that today is a great day and can only get better from here.

Wrongo bongo.

“What the heck!”

“Oh, shit,” Mary hisses, running into the back when she smells burning bread and hears her manager’s voice calling out. Sure enough, Dennis is there, oven mitts in hand, angrily sliding a tray of blackened croissants onto the speed rack, and going back to the oven to pull out another. There are six trays of ruined croissants, and Mary grimaces “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

Dennis ignores her until he’s finished pulling out all the wasted product, and when he’s done, he lays her out. “This isn’t fucking Panera Bread,” he tells her angrily. “We’re a mom and pop bakery. Profit margins are slimmer than slim!”

Mary cringes. “I know, I know, I’m sor—”

“How much money did you just cost us?” Dennis demands, hands on his hips. “Huh? Tell me. I want you to stand there and think about it and tell me how much.”

Mary stares for a second, then realizes that he’s dead serious. Humiliated, she licks her lips and does the math: 6 trays of 10 = 60 croissants, 60 x $4 per ganache-stuffed croissant, minus about $30 ingredients cost. It takes her longer than it normally would, since she’s been drinking, but when she’s worked it out she winces and looks down in shame. “I dunno … A little over two hundred, I guess.”

Dennis flails his hand holding the oven mitts. “We can’t afford to have you ruining hundreds of dollars of profit, Mary. Get it together.”

She frowns, indignant. “I was up front helping a customer,” she defends. 

“That’s what the oven timer is for.”

“I know that. I just forgot to—”

“You’re forgetting a lot of things lately.” He gestures angrily at the trays of blackened croissants. “I’ve tried to help you. I gave you time off to get your shit together when your boyfriend came in and told me about your mental condition.”

Mary grits her teeth. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Dom, dungeon master, whatever,” he says nastily. “I don’t know what you people get up to. But I’ve given you a lot of chances cause you’re apparently dealing with some shit. I can’t keep doing that forever if you keep costing this place money.”

Mary glares and steps up closer, getting in his face. “Maybe if you actually hired someone for front of house on Tuesdays, then I could actually focus back here!”

Dennis’ expression changes suddenly. He narrows his eyes at her and leans in closer. “What’s that?” he says, deathly quiet.

Mary huffs. “I said, you need to hire more—”

“You smell like alcohol.”

Everything comes to a stop as his words hit her like a bucket of ice water. Oh, fuck. She takes a step back, shaking her head. “What?” She scowls like that’s absurd, about to say something to deny it, but the words die on her lips when she sees the way Dennis is looking at her. He knows. Mary feels sick.

Dennis’ expression darkens further. “Are you drinking on the job, Mary?”

“No!” (what’s she supposed to do, tell the truth?)

“I don’t believe you.” He squares his jaw. “I’m calling Mr. Flaherty in.”

“What?!” 

“Two hundred dollars of wasted product? Drinking on the job?�� He’s already walking over to the wall phone and picking it up. When he looks back in Mary’s direction, there’s a gleam in his eyes. Fucker never did like her. “I told him I thought you had a drinking problem, and now I have proof.”

“You don’t have shit!” Mary cries. She’s actually panicking though, as she watches him dial the number to call the bakery’s owner. 

“I have the security cameras,” he says, looking vindictively pleased. “We’ll check them. You’re gonna be out of a job.” 

Mary stands there and watches in horrified disbelief as Dennis calls Mr. Flaherty and tells him that he needs to have a word with him in person that afternoon about “something serious.” He doesn’t give details, and when the call ends and he hangs up the phone, he shoots Mary a smug look. “I’ll work the register so that you can finish your shift back here and not make any more stupid mistakes.” 

Mary scoffs, panicked and angry and sick to her stomach with what’s happening. “No way! Forget it!” She hurries to untie her apron and yank it off. “I’m not gonna stick around here for you to lie and get me fired. I quit!” She tosses the apron to the floor and stalks back to grab her purse from the office, too panicked to think straight. She cannot stay there and see poor old Mr. Flaherty watch video evidence of her drinking on the job. He’s always been so nice to her, and now she’s betrayed him and fucked everything up. She’s just ruined the only job she’s ever liked. 

Dennis is getting less and less angry and more gleeful about it. “Bye bye, Hot-Mess Mary,” he sneers. “Don’t bother coming back. We’ll mail you your last paycheck. Have a nice life.”

“Fuck you, Dennis!” she yells, though her voice comes out choked with emotion. She shoulders her purse and whirls around before there’s any chance of him seeing her tearing up. She hurries for the back door that leads out to the alleyway. It's heavy and metal, and she shoulders it open with a grunt, stepping out. “Jealous prick,” she says, only to hear him laugh meanly and call out from inside,

“Jealous? Of you? An alcoholic pervert?”

The heavy back door slams shut before she can answer, and there’s no handle on the outside. It takes approximately two point five seconds for her to burst out crying.

Steve

“Fuck, Honey, ugh.”

Steve digs his fingers into the meat of Bucky’s ass and shuffles closer on his knees. On the couch (whose cushions have since been put back into place), Bucky parts his legs even farther and Steve takes him in deeper. His other hand keeps nudging the toy that’s buried in his husband’s ass—the glass p-spot toy, because unlike Steve, Bucky loves firmness but hates vibrations up there. Steve’s been gently fucking him with it, nudging it against his prostate again and again, having found the perfect angle. Every grunt and moan that he gets out of Bucky has his own cock throbbing in his underwear, but he isn’t touching himself, is devoting every ounce of his attention to resolving the “problem” that Mary’s massage left Bucky with. 

“You know,” Bucky says, voice a little breathy as he speaks between groans. “I’m never gonna—nnh. Never gonna look at this couch again without thinking of her oily hands sliding all over my back."

Steve hums in agreement, the sound reverberating around Bucky’s cock and pulling another hiss from him. Steve pops off to glance upwards. “Me too,” he says, and they share a look of heated yearning, before he shakes it off and sinks his mouth back down on Bucky’s throbbing length.

He’s been dragging it out, having fun with it. But now it’s gotten sloppy and wet, and Steve’s jaw aches, and he really wants to make Bucky come so he can finally get a hand around himself. He hums around Bucky’s cock once more while he still can, then takes him all the way to the hilt, nose pressing into his pubes and throat spasming around the head.

“Oh! shit …” Bucky’s fingers dig sharply into Steve's scalp. His hips stutter up of their own accord, making Steve choke a little, but he soldiers on. Bucky makes a helpless little sound that is very close to a whimper, and which has Steve’s belly pulling tight with arousal. “Close, Baby. So close, fuck …”

Steve purposefully chokes himself, letting it hit the back of his throat again and again, swallowing compulsively. It gets him what he wants, which is for this blowjob to be over.

Above him, Bucky slumps further on the cushions and groans long and low, the tortured moan letting Steve know that he’s cresting that edge. He pulls back to suck hard on the head, abandoning the toy to the clenching of Bucky's ass so he can stroke him through it. He hums happily when he feels the pulse of Bucky’s cock on his tongue, the hot spurts of cum, the clenching of thighs muscle beneath his hands. Fuck, it’s sexy. 

Having been with the man for so long, Steve knows exactly when to ease off. He gentles his touch and stops sucking. He waits with Bucky’s softening cock in his mouth, not pulling off until the hands that were gripping him desperately a moment ago smooth gently through his hair in gratitude. Steve pulls off, keeps his mouth closed, doesn’t swallow. Bucky’s flushed and wet cock falls onto his belly, gorgeously swollen and spent. Steve’s staring at it covetously when Bucky gives a long, shaky exhale from above, tapering off in a satisfied groan. “Stevie,” he sighs happily. “Mmhh. Fuck. C’mere.” 

He pulls Steve up onto the couch, not satisfied until he’s got him in his lap. Steve straddles him and smiles with his mouth still closed. “Good boy,” Bucky whispers, reaching up to gently cup the front of his neck. His eyes are heavy lidded but still heated as he strokes his thumb over Steve’s windpipe. He loves to watch Steve swallow his cum, and that’s why Steve hasn’t yet, is waiting for his signal. He’s very good at making a show of it: dragging it out, eye contact, showing the load on his tongue if Bucky wants, swallowing slowly and obviously; really turning it into an act of obedience for his husband.

He’s surprised when Bucky doesn’t tell him to swallow. “Hold it,” he says instead, confusing Steve. Bucky grins devilishly and reaches down between their bodies. He returns with the glass toy in hand and holds it up. “Get it wet," he purrs.

And Steve’s entire body goes stiff as he re-remembers that he’s married to the filthiest man on the fucking planet.

Steve must be filthy too, though, because a massive wave of arousal sweeps through him as Bucky holds up the toy with a dirty smirk and commands him to wet it up—with his own cum. Steve almost feels lightheaded from how all the blood rushes to his cock and away from his brain. He groans through his mouthful of cum, and Bucky’s lips curl. “You heard me. Do it.”

He looks down and aims, letting his mouthful of cum slide out onto the tip of the glass toy that was buried in Bucky’s ass not ten seconds ago. It’s obscene, filthy, and that only makes his belly swirl that much harder as Bucky uses his flesh fingertips to spread the cum around lazily, coating the clear glass with his own sticky cum. “Good,” he praises, still smirking at Steve through half lidded eyes. “Now, put it in.” 

Steve groans and takes the toy from him. They haven’t done prep, but it’s a small, slim toy, and he knows it’ll slide in easily with the help of his husband’s own jizz slicking the way. Jesus Christ. He starts to move, intending to take his underwear off, but Bucky stops him with an amused shake of the head.

“Uh uh. Just pull ‘em aside and put it in. Keep your briefs on.”

“Fuck.” He listens, reaching back to pull his underwear to the side and press the head of the toy to his rim. He works it inside, eyelids fluttering when it pops past the muscle and glides in smoothly. “Oh,” he sighs, letting his underwear snap back and shifting his hips to feel the stretch against his rim, the heavy curve of it settling into place against his prostate. “Fuck.” He starts rocking his hips in tiny motions to work it inside him, barely-there sounds of pleasure escaping him each time it does. “Ooh, Buck,” he breathes. He doesn’t realize his eyes have closed until Bucky startles him with a kiss, growling and tugging him in close by the back of the neck. “Mmph!”

Their lips clash in a harsh, demanding kiss, Bucky taking possession of it and gripping the back of his neck hard to keep him still. Steve pants and whines and takes it, hips juddering forward to grind his aching dick against Bucky’s stomach. Each dominating swipe of Bucky’s tongue into his mouth makes him ache for more. “Buck,” he pants, right against Bucky's lips, where he's shamelessly kissing his messy mouth. “Baby, oh, please?”

“Yeah?” His hand cups Steve from over his underwear, squeezing the line of his erection. “You’re so fucking amazing, you know that?” he husks, dipping under the waistband to curl his fingers around him. “Make me feel so good, fuck, I love you.”

Steve moans and rests his forehead on Bucky's naked shoulder, looking down to watch. He whines when he sees that it’s the metal hand—which he already knew by feel, but the sight of it is a whole other level of hot. Steve thinks of it like a knife kink, or a gun kink: seeing something so steely and dangerous that close to him, wrapped around and working him, giving him pleasure. The sight of all that black and gold metal on his cock makes his belly clamp down hard in need. “Oh fuck, ” he breathes. “Oh. Fuck.”

“Yeah, Sweetheart.” Bucky kisses his ear and breathes hotly against him as he pumps and twists his hand, going tight just the way Steve likes. It’s messy from the precum that Steve’s dick keeps blurting out, and he whimpers at the soft, wet sounds it begins making. “I know,” Bucky whispers. “You get so worked up. I love that. Big fat cock n’ balls, but you wet up for me just like a girl, dontcha' Sweetheart? Bet you started right down there on your knees, too. Hard and leaking just from sucking me off, making a mess in your panties.” Steve groans in embarrassment and Bucky snickers. “Aw, don’t try to deny it. I saw that boner when you crawled on up here. Saw the wet spot on those tighty-whities, too.” Playfully, he snaps the elastic band of Steve’s underwear against his hip. “You get off on it. Pretty little cocksucker.”

Steve humps into his fist, which between how slick it is and how tightly Bucky’s gripping him, feels fucking amazing. “Nnuhh,” he moans, “I get off on you. You were so—fuck, mmph—so hard when she left. I f-felt bad for you.”

Bucky growls and strokes faster. “Don’t be patronizing, baby. I saw the state she left you in. At least I had the excuse of getting rubbed down.” He snickers lowly and presses another kiss to Steve's ear. “She wasn’t even touching you.”

“Fuck,” Steve says tightly, as he recalls the image of Mary sitting on the bed with Bucky, rubbing his naked back with her oiled hands—Her tiny oiled hands, that would look so good on their cocks. Fuck, he’s going to come embarrassingly fast. He pants, trying to get words out. “I—nuhh, oh. I wanted to—mmm …”

Bucky bites his earlobe. “Wanted to what? Tell me.”

“Wanted to watch her give you a happy ending,” he grunts. “Tell you to turn over n’ watch her jerk you off.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asks, voice dark and interested. “Mm. You miss women.” Steve whines and nods in lieu of an answer. “Well maybe we’ll get a third sometime. A special treat. Only this time we'll get a girl, take turns fucking her. Maybe I’ll even have her fuck you with a strap-on.” Steve moans and kisses him dirtily, and Bucky reciprocates, hand leaving Steve’s cock so he can hold his jaw with both hands. 

Steve whimpers and his hips keep moving, chasing the friction that isn’t there anymore. “Buck,” he breaks off from the kiss to beg. “Please. Please. I need to cum.”

Bucky smiles and takes pity on him, but he switches up his hands, using the flesh one on Steve’s cock so that he can squeeze even more, really wringing up hard and thumbing under the head on every stroke. Steve sobs and sits back, bracing on Bucky’s shoulders and watching himself fuck into clench of his fist. “Yeah,” he moans. “Oh, God. Fuck yeah, just like that.”

“How’s that toy feel?” Bucky reaches his other hand underneath and taps against the glass toy’s base a few times— ‘tap, tap, tap,’ —humming in satisfaction when Steve cries out and ruts desperately into his fist. “Ooh,” he goads. “It feels that good, huh?” Tap, tap, tap. “It that gonna make you cum?”

“Nnnh.” Steve nods tightly, hips working hard. “Yeah, oh. Yeah. M’gonna. Ohgn…”” 

His balls draw up tight and his cock jerks when Bucky takes hold of the toy’s base and starts slowly pulling it out. That feeling against his rim is what does it, pushing him over the edge and making the pleasure coalesce and snap.

He cries out sharply as he shoots, his body straining and hips pulsing, ribbons of white cum striping over Bucky’s naked stomach, one after another.

“Fuck, Honey. So beautiful. Fuck that’s a lot. Fuck. Lookit’ you, big boy.”

His cooing praise drags it out longer, and by the time Steve’s dick is spent and softening again, he’s collapsed forward against Bucky, mess of cum between them be damned. He rests his head on his shoulder and hugs him while he recovers. “Fuck,”  pants, closing his eyes and enjoying the sheer relief of it all. “That was good. I needed that.”

Bucky hums and rubs his back. “Me too.”

When they finally peel themselves off each other, they’re faced with two wet, spent dicks, and the mess of cum that did not magically disappear just because Steve wanted it to. He sighs and climbs off the couch.

“Shower,” Bucky decides, and goes into the bathroom with Steve following behind. He starts the water running and shucks his joggers that he'd only just pulled back up. “Feel like we were just doin’ this,” he complains.

“That’s cause we were.” Steve pads over and stands against him, leaning in, chest to chest.

Bucky leans against the wall and wraps his arms around Steve’s lower back while they wait for the water to warm up. “Do you really want a threesome?” he asks. “Like we used to do?" 

Steve sighs and presses his forehead into Bucky’s chest. His first inclination is to say yes. They used to sleep with men, have threesomes a few times a year, for fun. They’d only stopped because they’d mutually fallen into contentment with married life. But Steve realizes it’s the way Bucky’s framed it: does he want to have threesomes again. With a girl. And the answer is no. Steve doesn’t want to have 'a threesome' anymore, with 'a girl', or 'a guy'. He doesn’t want anything casual. He says as much, and groans into Bucky’s skin. “I just want her,” he says. “I want it to be serious, and I want it with her.”

Bucky strokes his back, not saying anything for a long minute. “Yeah,” he eventually agrees. “Me too.” 

Steve makes a mournful sound in his throat. “Can’t we try? Maybe ask her out on a date? She might come around if she doesn’t feel like we’re just trying to jump her bones straight away, y’know? We’ve never really had that time with her. It went straight from ‘how do you do’ to moving her in here with us.” Bucky’s chest rises and falls with a deep inhale, and his hands have stopped moving on Steve’s back, which is how Steve knows he's really thinking about it. “Buck?” he tries. “C’mon. Let’s just give it a shot. Linda said she needs sex anyways, and I know you don’t like the idea of her with another man.”

Against him, bucky growls grumpily.

“Just one more try,” Steve pleads. “Let’s just tell her upfront we have feelings for her and that we’d like to court her.”

Bucky snorts. "'Court’?”

Steve whaps him and pulls his head back. “You know what I mean. Nice stuff. Take her out, buy her flowers.” 

“I know what you mean.”

They stare in each other's eyes as Steve reaches over to feel the shower water. It's warm. “It’ll be her choice," he says. "We won’t be bossy.”

“Kind of hard not to be bossy when she thrives on that.”

Steve gives him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs. “Yeah I know what you mean.” He pulls the curtain and goes to step into the shower, but Steve stops him from behind with a hand on his arm—his left one. “And this,” he says, looking at him with authority. “Let me take this off. And you keep it it off around the house like you used to do.” He watches the brief reluctance that plays out on Bucky’s face, but is relieved when his husband doesn’t turn it into a fight. “Thank you, babe,” he says, taking the arm off and setting it out on their bed before returning to the bathroom. Bucky’s in the shower, so he steps in and stands with him under the spray. He wraps his arms around Bucky from behind, letting his left hand drag up over his stomach and chest, up to the anchor site where it meets his pec. “You can be a good Dom without it, you know,” he murmurs. 

“... I know. It was silly.”

He kisses Bucky’s shoulder. “Not silly. I love you.” In his arms, Bucky’s body bleeds all its tension and he lets a little bit of his weight come back through Steve, who kisses his neck again. “Tonight?” he asks, knowing that Bucky will know what he means. 

Bucky nods. “Tonight.”

Bucky

“A bar?!”

"Yeah. Leave me alone."

Bucky stares helplessly as Mary kicks off her shoes and walks (stumbles, is more like it) through the apartment and back towards her bedroom. The conversation they've just had was short and completely non-productive, other than that it's got Bucky feeling like he's on the verge of blowing up. “Mare, stop! Come back here.”

She throws him the finger over her shoulder and pushes into her bedroom, shutting the door harshly behind her. Bucky growls and starts for the hallway, but Steve stops him with a hand to his shoulder, pulling him back. “Hang on, Babe.”

“She’s drunk!” Bucky hisses, turning furious eyes to Steve. “Been missing for hours and now this?! How did she even get it?”

“I know, I know.”

Bucky snarls, mad at Steve for being so fucking calm. “Did you give her her ID back?!”

“No! Don’t be stupid, babe.”

His eyes cut over, sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve looks like he’s trying not to roll his eyes. “She’s thirty Hon. I’m sure there are plenty of bartenders who’d serve her without checking.”

“Well that’s just, just …” Bucky sputters, struggling to find the words. “There have to be consequences!” He starts for the hall again but Steve grabs him and pulls him back and into a restraining hug. Bucky kind of wants to hit him. “Steve!”

“Shh,” Steve says. “Sh sh, just hang on a second. Take a deep breath.” He holds him tightly, rubbing his back and nosing at his neck, and Bucky realizes that Steve is employing some of the things he’s learned at the CDP, trying to calm him down.

He blinks, noticing how hot his face feels, how fast his pulse is thrumming underneath his skin. He exhales shakily, feeling bad. “Fuck. I'm ..."

"Yeah."

"Sorry.” 

“S’okay,” Steve whispers. “Maybe today’s not the best day, after all.”

Bucky’s eyes flick over in the direction of the kitchen table. “Better get rid of those, then,” he grunts, referring to the flowers Steve had picked up at the bodega for Mary.

“I will. And we’ll figure this out, find out what happened, and talk to her another day, okay? We'll get new flowers.” 

“No, not okay,” Bucky insists, his anxiety ratcheting up again as he thinks of the state Mary just came home in. “We need to deal with her.” 

Steve pulls back and meets his eyes, and Bucky feels like an asshole all over again. “What do you need?” Steve asks quietly.

Bucky grits his teeth. To spank the ever loving shit outta that girl, he thinks but doesn’t say. He knows better than that, even on the verge of an episode, he can tell that he’s not being logical. He closes his eyes and tries to take deep breaths, pulls away from Steve because he’s embarrassed. “Nothin’.”

“Hey, it’s okay to need—”

“It’s not,” Bucky snaps, walking over to the couch and dumping himself onto it. He feels kind of sick—likely his blood pressure making him nauseous. “How am I supposed to be a good Dom for her when I can’t even keep myself in check? Christ.” He shoves his face into his hand. “I’m supposed to be better than this.”

Steve takes a minute, and when he approaches Bucky it’s with a gentle, careful expression that Bucky hates. “Babe, you know that makes no sense, right?” Bucky just grunts and Steve says, “That's like a diabetic saying they should have better willpower to control their insulin levels.”

Bucky glares at him for the trite comparison, wants to snap at his husband to stop quoting CDP literature at him. But that’d be nasty, and he bites his tongue. “No,” he grunts.

“You got told by Linda that you’re not giving her enough, not doing enough to meet her needs, and it’s been days since you really went up. You think I can't see that her drops aren't doing it for you now? You're too in tune with her. You both need more. And I should’ve seen this coming.” Steve sinks down to the carpet in front of him and kneels there reaching to rub his palms over the tops of Bucky’s thighs.

Bucky scowls at the gesture. “That’s not your job,” he says. “You shouldn’t have to—”

“I’m your husband,” Steve says, almost authoritatively, even though he’s keeping his voice soft and calm like the Center professionals taught him. “It’s my job to take care of you, always.” He rubs Bucky’s tense muscles from over his jeans. “Babe, c’mon. Let me help you.”

Bucky closes his eyes and counts to twenty. When he opens them again, Steve’s still there, waiting. Bucky reaches out and cups his face.

Steve presses into it. “Sir,” he whispers, eyes lowered.

Bucky feels so guilty at that, even as he can feel his blood pressure lowering from the small display of subservience. “I love you,” he says.

Steve smiles softly and squeezes his hands over Bucky’s knees. “I know.”

Bucky sighs. He releases Steve and slumps back into the couch cushions, feeling like the biggest burden. “I should call and book someone,” he says. Steve’s not a submissive and he shouldn’t have to play that role just to fulfill Bucky’s medical needs. Linda’s helped him come to terms with that over the years. Steve, the self-sacrificing punk, would do it anyway, but Bucky knows when he needs to ask for outside help. “Nathan can usually take me last minute.” Steve nods and stands up, brings Bucky his cellphone to make the call. He sits on the couch with him and pulls Bucky to lie with his head in his lap as he calls the Center and makes an appointment. “Okay,” he says when he’s done, tossing the phone aside. “Six-thirty. He’s coming in after hours just for little old me.”

“Good.”

Bucky’s eyes cut sideways towards the bedroom hallway. Their plans for the night are ruined, and if he didn’t have himself to deal with right now, he’d be hard pressed to keep himself from going in Mary’s room, trying to scold her. “What about her?” he asks glumly.

Steve snorts. “Little miss drunk? She’s probably passed out. Don’t worry about it. Besides,” he runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair.  “Can’t reason with someone when they’re like that. Discussion, punishment, scening? That’ll all have to wait until tomorrow, at least.”

Bucky makes a face and tries not to let his dominance start spiraling out of control again. “She’s going to AA.” Steve hums, and when Bucky looks up and catches his expression, Steve looks like he’s worrying for his safety. “Tomorrow,” he insists, obstinate. “I’ll take the day from work if I have to. Drag her there myself.”

“Maybe no dragging."

"Steve,"

"Linda first,” Steve suggests gently. “That’s a better first step, hm?” Bucky grunts, grumpy about it but knowing Steve’s right. He nods, and Steve runs kind hands through his hair. “Okay, good. That’s settled. Don’t have to think about it any more tonight.” He bends down and pecks a quick kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “So, six-thirty?”

“Mmhm.”

“An hour. … You want to help me get dinner started before you go?”

Bucky nods, turning and pressing his face into Steve’s lower belly, rubbing his cheek against his soft tee shirt and warm body. “Love you,” he mumbles, feeling sheepish from his outburst before. He knows it’s not his fault, but he still feels inordinately grateful to have Steve supporting him. “You ever get tired of all this drama?”

“Shuddup,” Steve chuckles.

“Mm. You should leave me for a normie." He’s got his eyes closed against Steve’s stomach, but feels the reproachful pinch on his neck. “Ow.”

“If I’d wanted a normie, I’d have married a normie,” Steve scolds. He pets over where he pinched. “And apparently I’m a glutton for punishment, cause I’ve got my sights set on another one’a you jerks. This is just a setback. We’ll let her sober up, you’ll go see the Pro, and then when everybody’s in the right frame of mind, we’ll deal with it. Now come on.” He pats Bucky on the back. “Mary's not the only one who can navigate a kitchen. I’ve got a recipe for chicken piccata we can try.”

Bucky sighs. He’s so fucking in love with Steve, and he’s never got any good way to say it. There's nothing. Wedding vows barely scratched the surface. “Okay,” he says, because what else is there to do but agree? Like most times, Bucky knows his more level-headed husband is right about this.

They get up and go into the kitchen to start pulling the ingredients for chicken piccata, and Bucky is able to keep his mouth shut for a full five minutes before his anxiety ratchets back up and he returns to haranguing Steve about confronting Mary—possibly later that night.

*Next chapter starts out IMMEDIATELY with the big confrontation and beginning of their romantic and sexual relationship, so I promise y'all won't have to wait much longer!

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[louis--wifey]

WTTT Incorrect Quotes but it's just things that people in my real life have said

It's so long I'm so sorry 😭😭

~~~~

Illinois, cleaning his shoes: Last time I wore these shoes I got apple butter on them..

Ohio: I remember that song. *singing* Apple butter shoes, boots with the fur.

~~~~

Florida: *yapping*

New York, who forgot his phone in the car: I'm going to get my phone so I can ignore you for a minute.

~~~~

South Carolina: Georgia and I are dressing at Waylon and Willie for Halloween!

North Carolina: I could be Johnny Cash and just lay there in a coffin... *To the tune of Hurt by NIN covered by Johnny Cash. Johnny Cash impression.* I hurt myself, today

~~~~

Washington, helping Nevada with his math homework: Let's break it down

Nevada: I'll break it down *gets off of his chair and starts break dancing*

~~~~

Kansas: That sounded like a car commercial...

Oklahoma: I can write car commercials all day long.

~~~~

Maryland: Nothing says hot like harmonica!

(I have no context for this btw. My professor said it a couple weeks ago and I tuned into the conversation as soon as he said it and I have no idea what was happening before hand)

~~~~

Michigan: Hey, Ohi-

Ohio: And all of the sudden I heard an irritating, grading voice. And it was yours.

~~~~

Illinois: My grandma has chickens, and she's obsessed with chickens.

Minnesota: Tell your grandma to call me.

~~~~

Arizona: If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go lock myself in the cooler.

Utah: Bang on the door if you need anything.

~~~~

Florida: *lands on go to jail in Monopoly* Noooo in jail again!?

Gov: That's something we need to talk about. If you keep driving so fast you're going to end up in jail.

Florida: Oh I thought this was gonna be about me puking in the county jail parking lot...

~~~~

California: What three characters have omniscience?

Florida: Your mom

California: What four characters have omniscience?

~~~~

Colorado: Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Wisconsin: FOOD TRUCK!

~~~~

Missouri: Guess what my dream car is

Indiana: A Lamborghini

Missouri: No

Indiana: A Kia Soul

~~~~

Washington: New York with the leadership skills!

New York: I just know where I'm going -_-

Washington: Say "I'm New York and I'm a baddie"

~~~~

Texas: Can you count change? *Looks down at the change California gave him* You can!

California: I'm great at counting change, I used to do it for fun when I was little. Because I didn't have any friends.

Texas: Pfff-

~~~~

Oregon: A Monster a day keeps the straightness away.

~~~~

Nevada: You look like a clown.

California: Am I a pretty clown?

~~~~

Gov, to Louisiana and Florida: I would stop whining so much if you two stopped drinking alcohol.

California: Sometimes your whining makes me wish I liked alcohol.

~~~~

Florida: Gov, I'm helping!

Alabama: By... Making it harder?

Florida: Yep!

~~~~

Florida, singing: Everybody was kung fu fighting

New Jersey, to the tune Kung Fu Fighting: Everybody should shut the fuck up

~~~~

Washington's cat: *killing a bug.*

Washington: "Rip in half! Rip in half! Rip in half! When I say "beat" you say "that ass" Beat! *Long pause, points to Oregkn* Fill in for him!

Oregon: *slowly turns around in his spinny chair*

Washington: Aw, come on! You can say donkey instead. Beat!

*silence*

Oregon: No.

Washington: Fine. *dances out of the room* K-I-C-K-Y-O-A-S-S Oh yeeessss!

~~~~

Maryland: *playing a cheap toy recorder on a make-shift stage*

Massachusetts: MORE COWBELL!!

~~~~

California: I just love feeling like a menopausal woman.

~~~~

Oregon, sick: The crystal ladies said if you got sick after the eclipse, it's your ancestors banishing evil from your body.

Idaho: They're praying the gay away

~~~~

South Dakota: Wish me luck in war

Minnesota: You're not going to war, you're asking for a box

South Dakota: It's the same thing, damn it!

~~~~

Alaska: Penny for your thoughts?

Hawaii: I don't have any pennies.

Alaska: I don't have any thoughts!

~~~~

Louisiana: We can bring the baguette to and beat California with it...

Florida: Or Utah.

~~~~

Gov: If you could make any crime legal what would it be?

New York, Florida and Louisiana at the same time: Arson!

Gov: *mortified expression*

~~~~

Iowa, about chicken: Are you a thigh person?

Nebraska: I like legs... ThEy TrIeD tO pUt Me On ThE cOvEr Of VoGuE bUt My LeGs WeRe ToO LONGGGGG!

~~~~

Colorado: I need a stick!

California: I need a boyfriend, your point?

Colorado: ...Not that kind of stick.

~~~~

Oregkn: In high school my favorite past time was kissing boys.

Washington: *turns to California* Is that your favorite past time too?

~~~~

Texas: Why aren't bananas called yellows?

Florida: Because then Gwen Stefani couldn't use it in her song.

Louisiana: She'd just have to spell it different: This shit is yellows! Y-E-L-L-O-W-S!

~~~~

California: He's gay and he committed suicide.

New York: He's you... Don't commit suicide, please.

California: I WILL BECOME A MUSICAL!

New York: NOOO DO NOT BECOME A MUSICAL!

~~~~

North Carolina: I seriously hate you sometimes.

South Carolina Aww I love you too!

~~~~

Vermont: You wanna know the biggest dingus I know?

New Hampshire: You?

~~~~

Wisconsin: You're a yeasty beer

Illinois: You're a zesty beer

Wisconsin: Yeah well, your light in the loafers!

~~~~

Arizona: *says something dumb*

Nevada: Shaking my as- shaking my head.

~~~~

New York: *takes a drink of my pumpkin spice latte* Oh, that's delightful!

California: Look who's a white woman now?!

[later]

California: You basic white woman!

New York: I don't wanna talk about it...

~~~~

Louisiana: *throws a packet of French dressing at Florida, in a French accent* French

Florida: AAAAA IT'S FRENCH!!!

~~~~

Florida: Oh, I thought you were committing arson without me

Gov: If I ever decide to commit arson, I'll call you

~~~~

Florida: Ah yes, my favorite crime, trespassing. I'm joking... it's not my favorite crime

Georgia: What is your favorite crime?

Florida: Arson!

~~~~

Arizona: Finally a good song

New Mexico: Then why do you keep playing bad ones?

~~~~

*Either someone brought up Pedro Pascal*

California: He's the daddiest of daddies.

Texas: Don't say that ever again.

~~~~

Maine: There are more animals on the planet than humans and just think you could have been born a crab, but you were born a human"

Maryland: I wish I was a crab, then I could be crabby all day long

Maine: I'm all ready crabby all day long

Maryland: Yeah but if you were a crab you could crawl around and pinch people *walks away sideways with hands held like pinchers*

~~~~

Alaska: Why are you getting cologne

Hawaii: I want to smell like a masc lesbian.

~~~~

California: I've had morning sickness for the past five years

Florida: Are you pregnant-

~~~~

Washington: You can choose what you eat, whether it's vegetables, meat, or ass.

Nevada: *dying laughing* That threw me off guard.

~~~~

New York: PA, your turn to tell a word that means something bad

Pennsylvania: Would you consider emotional manipulation bad?

New Jersey: Yeah, I mean no, it turns me on

Pennsylvania: I guess my mom will really turn you on then

~~~~

Tennessee: Don't panic but there's a spider on your-

Kentucky: *Proceeds to scream bloody murder*

~~~~

Virginia: *sniffs bread.*

Virginia: "It's sourdough."

~~~~

New York: You know I'm insane, right?

California: I'm aware, but I don't care. It's one of your redeeming qualities.

[watchingblsnowandforever]

We Are Ep. 11

Part 2

Hello again!!!

Here's part 1 of this post. It's not necessary to read that, but this does follow directly from there.

Warning: long post 😊😅

And again, we see Phum coming here for no reason but to drop Peem off.

Also, he usually just stayed in the car previously, but now he's walking with Peem all the way.

I reckon we'll be seeing much more of Phum appearing in front of the Fine Arts building for nothing but to drop off or talk to his boyfriend Peem, in a slight reflection of all the times he came here to take Peem off somewhere to make him do something for him.

And I can't wait for it. <3

Q: something very gay is going on here hmm 🤨

Be glad it's Q (who has enough tact to ask you about it in private) and not Toey who'd immediately call y'all out 😭

He played in water all day with Phum and then they cuddled all night. Next question.

Poor Peem 😭

You just confessed you woke up together 😭

And you think someone as smart (most of the times) as Q wouldn't catch on?

[Also, just an observation: Peem is painting a scenery with water here too.]

Beer knows everything. 😌

He's the only one in their combined friend groups with two braincells, and he has no difficulty calling out his friends (Phum) when they're being idiots.

And again 😭

I see it's not your turn with the braincell yet, Peem

Also, the chicken sounds in the background I was dying 😭😂

Phum's backstory was painful to hear, but I kind of expected something like this. It would explain his attachment to plushies, his fear of losing people and behaviour that might seem "childish".

SO CUTE OH MY GODS

Q gives his beloved pencil case to his beloved nong Toey to draw on, and what does Toey do? Make the most adorable doodle of his beloved P'Q 😭👍🏼

Seriously though, this is really good, and it also probably has a beautiful symbolism that I'm too lazy to go into right now 😭

Coming from Q that means a lot. And Toey knows that very well.

Again, what secretly, you're both about as subtle as the glaring sun on a hot summer day.

And it's time you two idiots (affectionate) get your shit together and kiss as boyfriends (gods know you've kissed as... whatever you are right now more times than I can keep count).

Yeah! You're talking nonsense, Phum, it's obvious you fell first!

*sigh* honestly though, at this point, I don't know how, but they managed to be worse than even ChainPun.

Jokes apart, I know they're both a bit insecure, and they didn't get off to the best start. But I hope that in the next ep, they'll realize they're both head over heels for the other and finally start dating.

Also, about time Peem finally accepted Phum as his personal driver <3

That scene in the shop was very sweet too, and most PhumPeem scenes in this ep had me going all gooey and mushy hehe

This show I calling me out 🥲

But I'm even worse because I can only make Maggi (with or without added condiments) 😭

Do y'all see the importance of this moment?!

Phum in the painting studio?!

This painting studio is Peem's safe space, and he's allowing Phum in there willingly.

Slowly, but surely, he's letting Phum in, and starting to accept that yes, this guy is an idiot, but he's an idiot Peem really really likes.

I knew this was coming but that didn't mean I was ready for it 🫣😳

TanFang are absolutely slaying

Love them. <3

This scene is a goddamn masterpiece. It rendered me speechless. What am I supposed to say to that?

Peem's soft little "You did a great job, getting through those times." has me in a chokehold. The nose boop, the kiss- I'm screaming crying rolling around on the bed.

Tried to do a confident walk away but the gate was in his way 😭

Peem is me though, I bump into things like thrice a day at the least.

He- 😶

I gasped at this scene, because you realize what this means right?

This painting, that was ruined due to Phum, that he had to painstakingly repaint while having to obey Phum's whims, this painting that represents his comfort (I don't know shit about art interpretation, but in grade 12 I had friends who'd taken art and I learnt a couple things from them), that represents himself, and in this painting, he adds bright red roses, for the ones that Phum gave him when he was driving him back because he was absolutely wasted, the roses he didn't have the heart to throw out.

And he's drawing these red roses to represent Phum, to show that inexplicably, but undeniably, Phum is a part of his life now; a part he likes enough to embed in one of his most prized paintings (as assumed from various context clues and such along the series). And when he does, he thinks of how Professor Po said "Every work you create contains a piece of you".

If this doesn't show that despite his caustic and sarcastic exterior, Peem is a sappy mushy romantic at heart (he is a Fine Arts student after all), I don't know what does.

This moment felt so poetic (I literally could write a poem about it and it still wouldn't be able to capture the raw beauty and vulnerability and love of this scene.)

Update: I really did write a poem about it 😭

I really like this scene.

Apart from not leaving Kluen hanging, and making sure he knows, this moment is also about Peem admitting to himself aloud, that yes, he does like Phum. He's slowly getting out of De Nile.

He didn't have to say this, but he did. To gently reject Kluen and tell himself that there was no going back now.

Matt: what in the gay chicken-

Toey: ooh this seems interesting. will they kiss? 👀

Poor Chain 😭

Let him enjoy being shipped with his husband bestie!

And all the while these two are having a staring contest to decide who'll tell their friends.

Beer knows exactly what's going on.

This moment is everything to me (other than the one in the painting studio of course).

Peem tried to muster the courage to tell all his friends that he and Phum were... well, more than enemies or friends at least, but he couldn't.

And Phum, my beloved, while more than a little emotionally constipated, he has consistently tried to tell Peem what he feels. And now, he's the one outright saying he likes Peem in front of everyone. He's the one saying "okay, if you can't, I will." And I love him for it. He does it while staring right at Peem too.

Live Reactions of Friends Who Just Found Out that the Guy Who Ruined Other Guy's Painting and The Other Guy, Who Kicked Him In The Balls For It, Have Fallen Victim to the BL Laws and Are Now Very Much In Love.

Beer: knew it 😌

Fang: my little brother?!

Tan: YOU AREN'T SWORN ENEMIES?!

Matt: I have to deal with another couple?? 🥺🥲

Q: I'm not drunk enough to deal with this shit.

Toey: wait... I WAS RIGHT?!!

That freaking cliffhanger though 🥲

It's better now but at the moment I wanted to commit homicide 😭

I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, Q's "RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?!" expression is just too hilarious 😭😂

So that's all for ep 11, see you next week!

And if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a burger and some fries 🍔🍟

[If you want, my previous posts: Ep. 8 Ep.9 Ep.10]

[ellsieee]

Stay With Me didn't let us down! 😭 We got kisses and a confession. There is no way anyone can say it's not a BL now. 🙄 Not that there was any doubt even before that. The subtext was just too obvious.

I can't believe they went there. Super sleuths have already found that it really is just lip balm, but the implication is clearly that Wu Bi's dad found his lube. Wu Bi why did you do your dad dirty like that? Don't smear your lube on his mouth! 🤣

Wu Bi was about to confess but he chickened out. 😅 Shy Wu Bi is so cute. Wu Bi really can't live without Su Yu. He had never been that bitchy and rude to Mo Yi before, but now there's someone at home he wants to be with and has no time for Mo Yi's shit.

First almost caught by Wu Bi's dad and now Mao Chong. Su Yu's nervous shifty eyes cracked me up. We all know he and Wu Bi have been doing something something in his room.

They are so happy to see each other!😭Their smiles. Really, I can't. I love how much they love each other. I could not stop smiling watching them hug.

Oh how I squealed. THEY ARE SO FRIGGIN CUTE!!! AHHHHHHH! This might literally be my favorite moment in the entire series.

"Go cough somewhere else" lol. Poor Mo Yi. Right in front of his salad.

Su Yu's little smile is EVERYTHING. I feel like we're missing a scene before this though. It just seems a bit out of place that Wu Bi would run up to kiss Su Yu at school and for Su Yu to not be surprised or embarrassed. I'm counting on that uncut release later. Actually I felt like the editing for these two eps was a bit choppy. I'm going to guess it's because they cut a bunch of stuff because it was too gay.

I love all the subtle ways they show us they're boyfriends. Su Yu casually using Wu Bi as a leg rest, Wu Bi teasing Su Yu about him not knowing he's Wu Bi's most important person, Su Yu taking care of Wu Bi, and Wu Bi making not so subtle hints about their relationship in front of everyone. Why always in front of Doudou? Always! 😅

The normally aloof Su Yu kissed Wu Bi! Again it's Su Yu's little smile after the kiss that makes it so sweet. The spoilers were actually true! I didn't think this would happen because in the behind the scenes Jiongmin had said there was no scene where he kisses Xu Bin, but here we are! Xu Bin's dream has finally come true. 🤭

I was not expecting such an explicit confession! They tried to hide the gay a little by having Su Yu add the ocean part, but Wu Bi's qq screen name is 我想我是海 (I wish I am the sea) and so when Su Yu shouts 我爱你, 大海 (I love you sea), he is not so subtly telling Wu Bi that he loves him. Awwwww. ​​​🥹

But also, I have to drag production a bit on the terrible green screen CGI here. It looks so fake! Did they run out of money? How hard is it to film a sunset at a beach?

No. Don't you dare Mo Yi. Fuck off. If the last two eps break my heart I'm going to consider SWM as having only 22 episodes where the boys are together and happy.

The girls on weibo only went a little crazy. I didn't see SWM on the main hot search but they were trending for a little while. Hopefully it was short enough where it didn't draw too much attention. 😅

[tubbytarchia]

the final day. of the 30 day hardcore series. jimmy aka solidaritygaming has gone live. the final day is upon us. (although theres actually like 1 day 23 hours left. so idk what hes on about. if it were just him id say its cuz he doesnt stream on weekends but martyns title says final day too. theyre all a bunch of liars) ITS A LONG ONE GET READY

anyway. he logs on and immediately gets up to gay shit

anyway he sees martyn and they start going ITS COOOOOOMING HOME ITS COOOOOOOMING HOME because theyre both football nerds. then sausage and mog comes over. martyn has a censor/beep on his soundboard and he says something with it and jimmy gets annoyed so martyn tells jimmy to **** himself. off to a great start

jimmy starts attacking him with a bow and martyn keeps pressing the button. martyn traps himself in an obsidian box.

sausage and mog are thinking about bringing the ender dragon to the overworld. idk how to do that but i wouldnt put it past them. they all want to do a raid too.

THERES FINALLY AN EXPLANATION FOR THE CHICKENS. martyn has a thing on his ship that fires out chicken eggs. they keep trying to guess when its going to fire by counting down. they keep saying theyre going to kiss each other if they get it right. ?? sure. then they start trying to get it to hit them on the head

riveting content. they do this for like 10 minutes. they start gambling using martyns on-stream tamagotchi thing. its like a higher or lower thing using a roulette table. u say red or black then if its the right colour martynll say like... "red 7 higher or lower" then u have to guess if the next spin will be a higher or lower number?? i have no idea whats going on. but jimmy got the highest streak so WOOOO

it hits martyn. low quality martyn getting hit with an egg.

THE DISCS ARE MISSING. someone has taken the discs. theres some in both sausages and martyns base. jimmy challenges martyn to a 1v1 (if they both survive the raid) and jimmy then turns to say if he survives he'll challenge sausage next.

sausage says theyre all going to kiss after the raid and jimmy says he does not kiss thieves.

they start to prep for the raid and jimmy gets a trident. he immediately starts attacking cpk who starts attacking him with his mace. jimmy gets his ass beat as sneeg and sausage start attacking him with their maces too. he calls out for martyn to save him.

when martyn does not come to rescue him scott logs in so he runs to scotts house. its actually really sweet do not talk to me.

j: SCOTT?! SCOTT THEYRE BULLYING ME :(

s: whats new though? you normally get bullied.

j: no theyre really- theyre coming for me.

s: ah. are they being extra mean today?

j: theyre being very mean. very mean.

s: aw im sorry. (he says something else idk what he said though)

FULL CLIP/TIMESTAMP CUZ I DONT WANT TO. TRANSCRIBE IT ALL its so sweet. dont talk to me ever.

theyre doing the raid at the disc. sneeg brings a bunch of villagers out of... somewhere AND IT STARTS!!! the raid gang/everyone online is jimmy, martyn, sausage, sneeg, scott, mog, and cpk.

jimmy realises on wave 2 that he doesnt have a shield?? surely this wont go wrong. he keeps "accidentally" hitting sneeg with his trident. good thing it barely even does half a heart per hit.

martyn calls jimmy a potato/spud then says something like "you look like one of andys toys mr tater head" and jimmys like you know thats a sore subject. and martyns like oh i genuinely did not even think of that. then jimmy goes searching through cpks chests and martyn breaks them so back to normal.

jimmy gets a shield :) then he goes to sort out cpks chests because hes nice like that. he then threatens to kill martyn. hes THEN LIKE "im the bigger man arent i chat. tell me i am."

jims worried he missed the whole raid then he looks over and theres just. a ravager. so hes like okay nvm and goes back to the group. he immediately starts trying to kill martyn and i think its really funny that nobody really tries to stop jimmy. however neither of them kill each other so.

jimmy/cpk/scott get distracted trying to shoot sneeg then jimmy turns around AND THE ENTIRE NEXT WAVE IS BEHIND THEM so he just. screams.

jimmy flees to mogs base in the middle of the water and just starts shooting at anything that moves. mostly sneeg.

MARTYN KILLS JIMMYS DOG. HONK IS GONE. jimmy is setting up a pvp arena he is so desperate to kill martyn.

sneeg wants to mess with his mace so scott holds a totem and sneeg hits him. he gets the achievement for doing 50 hearts of damage in one hit so.

anyway arena is ready. sneeg takes jimmy off to the side and gives him a god apple.

martyn burns all the discs he has on him and they start fighting. its kind of pathetic. jimmy DOES kill martyn but he has a totem so. cpk tries to give jimmy a totem BUT HIS INVENTORY IS FULL so martyn picks it up. he has like 3 totems on him now.

martyn says to call the fight quits. as soon as jimmy agrees martyn tries to attack him again. MOG COMES IN WITH THE STEEL CHAIR

scott starts attacking jimmy (if he dies you have to die :( SHUT UP SCOTT) and jimmy takes a moment before he defends himself. he was not expecting martyn to die. theyre all bickering about it THEN JUST,, SAUSAGE YOU MOTHERFUCKER PUT YOUR MACE DOWN. THEN SNEEG KILLS MOG.

im genuinely so emo about this ending btw do not talk to me. do not. if u do get the time/energy i so recommend watching the vod im so. oh my god. WHATEVER!!!

anyway stream ends soon after. among us video tomorrow. roblox channel video sunday. monday stream maybe at 6pm bst (an hour late since hes recording roblox with katherine). do not talk to me ever again ok bye im gonna be thinking about this for weeks.

HATE. HATE ON THIS PLANET HATE AND WAR. GRRRRRRAA ok starting from the beginning

Seapeekay get away from him. I don't trust you anymore. Not since the "I'm killing myself if you don't come to me fast enough" incident

YAYYY JIMMY ATTACKING PEOPLE WOOOOOOOOO ATTACK MORE PEOPLE YAYYYYYYY the way Martyn doesn't really retaliate either ugh. My property police...

I fucking love that "low quality Martyn getting hit with an egg" screenshot this is the best content I could ask for

"I do not kiss thieves" is terribly ironic but um. Jimmy saying to Sausage that he will not kiss him IS SO GOOD GO JIMMY GO YEAH!!!!!! Stop letting this sex pest get away with his sex pestery. Every other exchange Sausage has with Jimmy is seriously just "oooo let's be gay" or "oooo sex joke". I seriously don't get it. If it's ship bait then it's obnoxious. Tell him off Jimmy

HELL YEAH JIMMY ATTACKING PEOPLE WOOOOO wait but this time 3 people dogpile on him. Why. Stop that. Martyn didn't do that. And yet Seapeekay, Sausage and Sneeg start dogpiling him. Leave him alone. And he calls out for Martyn..?? STOPPP this is making so genuinely sad and upset NOOOOOOO!! This is awful!!!! Martyn please... where are you Martyn...., AND THEN SCOTT LOGS IN JUST TO SAVE JIMMY? AND THEY HAVE A REALLY NICE AND PLEASANT EXCHANGE? WHat the fuckk mannn. It's awesome I do like this but knowing Scott I KNOW this will come back to bite me in the ass and make me even more sad later

Jimmy "you know that's a sore subject" to Martyn basically calling him a toy noooo THIS IS MAKING ME SAD THIS IS MAKING ME UPSET!!!!!!!!!! At least Martyn didn't mean to get at Jimmy from that angle but mmgh...

"I'm the bigger man aren't I chat. Tell me I am." NOOO WHY'D HE SAY THIS! THIS MAKES ME SAD TOO!! Awwghh man he needs the confirmation... You ARE the bigger man Jim you have been... Go be awesome...!! But at the same time maybe you don't need to try and kill Martyn for like the 3rd time Jimmy it's okay... Tensions been high, few misunderstandings, it's okay Jimmy...

The way Jimmy starts attacking Martyn (oh well :( )and nobody stops him?? Oh but when he attacked Seapeekay then he got dogpiled by 3 people what. Are they like "Oh yeah that's just what Martyn and Jimmy do" or something. Huh. Ough I hate to see them fighting at a time like this though... But at least neither of them die... and then Martyn kills Jimmy's dog?? NOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME NOOOO Honk... Honk shoo now...

And then... And then Martyn and Jimmy fight in the arena... And Jimmy wins, and Martyn says to call it quits, and then he immediately attacks Jimmy again??? man all of this is no property police banter this is malice. Property police is on pretty rocky ground to begin with but I didn't think it'd come to this wow... They are just straight up fighting. Hatred and war on planet earth. And yet, when Mog comes in swinging and kills Martyn, he chokes up... Jimmy hadn't expected Martyn to just die so soon... Oh Boatemboys oh it's getting really miserable. And he fails to defend himself in time when SCOTT STARTS ATTACKING HIM? AND SAUSAGE GETS THE FINAL HIT? Oh Scott and Sausage oh I am. Putting you in a box and shipping you to Madagascar

And Scott's reasoning for attacking Jimmy "If Martyn dies you have to die" oh so Scott suddenly cares about Martyn huh. He suddenly doesn't care so much about Jimmy even though he makes a flower husbands reference like every SMP. Suddenly Jimmy has to die because Martyn died, huh. Did that cute little conversation earlier mean nothing to you Scott. I am so upset right now. I am so fucking upset.

I need to watch this VOD for sure sometime but wow. What I've gotten from this is: - further Sausage dismay - I do not trust Seapeekay - I do not trust Sneeg - Scott is Scott - Property Police had a lot of very nostalgic and nice moments and then they started fighting each other with malice like I've never seen before. (Also Martyn killing Jimmy's dog kinda symbolic to me. Big dogs...)

The only truly good thing here is MOG I LOVE MOG YAYY Mog is AWESOME Mog even came in to defend Jimmy from Martyn. Mog has done nothing wrong ever. He especially didn't deserve to die to Sneeg. The only thing well and good in this SMP is Mog which is funny because I have two nickels now (cough cough SOS SMP) (This SMP wasn't trying to be anything it wasn't though so I'm very much not putting it on the same level as SOS but where SOS was just kinda lame to me, This SMP just made me really upset from the characters' perspective so Mog ends up being one of the only truly positive aspects both times)

[possibilistfanfiction]

Chef Au! A date night with fast food (chosen by Ava) and cheap wine (chosen by Bea)

it's not that beatrice's little chef outfits aren't simultaneously endearing and also hot, but when you open your front door and see her in sunglasses and a comfortable crewneck sweater, light, loose pants cuffed casually — although you're sure she was exacting about those too — and sneakers, you realize that you've kind of been missing out. or, really, maybe, she's a fuller person that you could've ever really imagined, only seeing her at her restaurant and a few vineyards nearby you'd tasted at together.

she smiles, a little hesitant, and hands you a simple, beautiful bouquet of lavender wrapped in newspaper and tied with twine. 'from my garden.'

'that's so gay,' you say, before you can stop yourself — but then she laughs and scratches at the back of her neck and you lean forward to kiss her cheek. 'i love them,' you amend. 'thank you.

she nods. 'of course.'

'let me put these in some water and then we can head out.'

'you can dry it, if you want.' she clears her throat, nervous and fidgeting with her watch. 'it's good for simple syrups and reductions. or baths.'

'that sounds dope. i love baths.' you wink and know she's blushing as you put the bouquet on your entry table — artfully cluttered — and then lock the door and turn back to her. 'ready?'

'yes,' she says, unlocking a practical and perfectly spotless electric small bmw suv, and then opening your door for you.

'why thank you, sir knight.'

she rolls her eyes and closes the door, then walks around to her side. 'where to, your royal highness?'

you grin, take her hand in yours while she starts the car. 'arby's.'

'fair enough.'

'i was going to pick panda express, but that seemed... weird?'

she laughs, which delights you. you don't think you've ever heard her laugh like that before. 'i love their orange chicken, honestly. but that's a god tier secret, okay?'

you mime zipping your lips and throwing away the key, which keeps a smile on her face. while she's driving, you get to take in the whole of her, greedily: her dark brows and the gentle sharp of her jaw, the soft buzz of her hair, the tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of her sweater, the freckles across her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. and her hands: sure and precise, even just on the steering wheel. she's beautiful, and you're a little overcome. you count your blessings that you wore your favorite bralette and overshirt, wide-leg jeans that make your butt look incredible. your eyeliner is perfect and when you're at a red light, she turns and smiles at you like there's no one else in the world.

it knocks the breath out of you a bit, and you cannot start crying over how pretty a girl is within seven minutes of a first date; you thank your lucky stars when she fiddles with her phone and then some music starts to play.

'shit,' she says, scrolling desperately.

'carly rae?'

'i didn't mean to play that. i don't even know why it's in my liked songs.'

'here,' you say, and put your hand out for the phone because the light is about to turn green. you laugh when you see every single carly rae jepson album fully saved in her liked songs, and you take in the delicious pink of her cheeks when you look over at her with a laugh. 'well, emotion: side b is probably the best album of all time, so no judgement here.'

she bites her bottom lip.

'what were you trying to play, though? what did you think would, like, seduce me?'

'who says i'm was trying to seduce you?'

'well, the gay little flowers, for one. and the fact that you agreed to this silly plan in the first place.'

she waits until the next red light to lean over the console and kiss you — short, and gentle, and very sweet — and you revel in the feeling.

she backs away and turns her attention back to the road in front of you as you start to move again. 'is it working?' she asks.

you laugh.

/

you settle into her trunk after she parks on the overlook; she's put comfortable blankets and pillows in it so you can eat and watch the sunset, and it's tender and thoughtful and she puts a little fisherman's beanie on that softens her, even more, and it's all driving you a little bit crazy.

'well,' you say, after you both settle in with your chicken fingers, curly fries, and ranch — your order, which she'd promised she would eat — 'please break out the perfect wine to pair with the best dinner of all time.'

she nods very seriously, going along with your antics; beatrice is ultimately extremely serious in the kitchen, even if her food is playful: she hasn't gotten to where she is — one of the youngest chefs to be nominated for a james beard, among a billion other accomplishments she refuses to mention and you had only found out about through a recent write-up about the soft opening of her restaurant — without incredible determination and focus.

she's more playful than you had imagined, full of laughter and willing to be silly; willing to indulge the goofy idea you'd had for this date. she reaches around behind her and pulls out a small cooler filled with ice, then presents the wine with a flourish: 'only the very finest three dollar trader joe's chardonnay. it pairs wonderfully with chicken.'

her little posh accent and her genuine smile make the whole routine even better. 'that is... incredible.'

'you know,' she says, 'i've never failed an assignment.'

'now that i believe.'

she fishes out two red solo cups — which makes you laugh even harder — and unscrews the top of the wine before pouring it carefully. 'do you want to give your review?'

you go through the motions of how you would normally taste a wine, all a little exaggerated. you're one of the most sought-after sommeliers in the world: you can make or break vineyards and their yearly releases; you've been a part of a handful of opening restaurants that have won every award in the book. and, even with all of that, 'this might be one of my favorite bottles of wine i've ever had.'

bea scoffs. 'this wine is absolutely horrendous.' she pulls apart a chicken tender and dunks it in ranch, though, eats it without any complaint.

'sure,' you steal one of her fries even though you have a whole pile of your own. 'but the company elevates the entire thing.'

she turns toward you, the sunset fading orange behind her, turning her eyes gold. 'you make everything better.'

it makes you a little breathless. 'plus, you have to admit, these chicken fingers slap.'

it gets her to laugh, just like you'd wanted. just like you think you could spend your entire life wanting. 'maybe we'll put this pairing on my menu, then.'

'lilith would love that.'

'you know, it could be worth it, just to see her face.'

you scoot closer to her, talk about how her partnership with a local farm is going, how she's sourcing her cod from a fisherman nearby; you talk about your favorite vineyard, a tiny one tucked into the oregon coast — and those things are safe. those things are more of what you already know: she cares deeply about the earth and how her food fits into it; you want to share a stormy grey day and perfect pinot noir at a firepit with her.

and you eat your greasy fries and drink wine that is surely going to give you a headache in the morning. you talk about how she felt finally herself when she finished cooking school and took a job on the line, young and eager and fabulously talented, at a kitchen where she had support, where no one yelled at her, where she had a mentor that cared. you talk about the wine grapes you remember your grandfather growing in your small back yard, how you would eat them when you were small and describe the taste while you sat on your mom's lap. she teaches you her favorite word in chinese and you teach her your favorite word in portugese.

the sun sinks below the river, and you love her.

'do you — ' she bites her bottom lip — 'do you want to come back to my place? for dessert?'

'depends,' you say, and watch her face fall for a split second; you kiss her jaw to rectify that, 'what's on the menu?'

she huffs a laugh. 'i bought nestle chocolate chip cookies, for the occasion. they're in my freezer.'

'oh, fuck yes,' you say. 'i'm so in.'

'and, my company.'

'well, yeah, sure.' you roll your eyes playfully and pull her in for a kiss: cheap wine and grease and the softness of her skin under your fingertips. 'and that too.'

[powderblueblood]

BEAUTIFUL!

ronnie ecker recounts the last first day of the worst of her life or i wanted to rewrite beautiful from heathers the musical, hellfire and ice version. warnings: first person narrative (ronnie's pov), swearing, era-typical misogyny, bullying and slurs, mention of eating disorders, everyone's a dick, everyone's kind of gay for lacy doevski. wc: 3.8k

September 1st, 1984. 

First day of the end of your life. It’s hard not to get a little intro-outrospective.

If I was a diary keeping person, which I’m not because I don’t like to leave a paper trail outside my own goddamn academic brilliance, I’d write something like this. 

Dear diary, I believe that I’m a good person–y’know, relatively speaking, if you don’t count that one time I bit that one kid for catcalling me. But, here we are! First day of senior year! And I look around at these kids I’ve known all my life and I ask myself–what happened?

We’re in the hallway, bottlenecking toward the cafeteria. It’s right around lunchtime, so everyone’s getting a real good look at everybody else, categorizing who they hate, who they hate more, who got boobs over the summer. God, do we ever stop slinging shit at each other, even when we think no one’s listening? There’s a constant cacophony in the hallways of Hawkins High.

Freak! Slut! Burnout! Bug-eyes! Poser! Lard-ass!

And no one does anything about it. 

It’s pretty sad, considering where we came from. 

We were so tiny, happy and shiny, playing tag and getting chased.

Freak! Slut! Loser! Shortbus!

Singing and clapping, laughing and napping, baking cookies, eating paste. Especially me. I was crazy for that shit.

Bull-dyke! Stuck-up! Hunchback!

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger, like the Huns invading Rome. “Shit, my bad!” That underclassman I just walked straight into looked terrified. And for good reason.

Welcome to my school, this ain’t no high school. This is the Thunderdome. 

Trailer trash!

For the very first very last time, I crane my head around the swamped hall and try to recall where my new locker is. First star on the right, and I wiggle in my combination and dump my books inside. I take a second, shoving my head inside the cool metal darkness (voluntarily, for once) and mutter, “Hold your breath and count the days, we’re graduating soon–”

“–Christ. College will be paradise, if I’m not dead by June.” 

I crane my neck out. Two lockers up from me, elegant fingers pull open an identical door to mine except hers, of course, already has a vanity mirror hung up inside. She checks her reflection, not like it ever needs checking. One of her faithful little redheads stands beside her, smacking bubblegum so loud it makes my ears pop.  

“You are so melodramatic, it’s crazy.” 

“What was that?”

“Nothing…”

It sucks how the chrysalis of adolescence has made most of us completely obnoxious. I try not to be a sucker for nostalgia, but I can’t help but remember how much easier this was in middle school. Waking up on a weekday didn’t have to be like living in a segment of Creepshow. 

I know, I know, I know, life can be beautiful. No plastic Jesus on my dashboard (or… handlebars, I guess) but I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again… 

Then I get a whole shoulder of dork, right to the face. Bubblegum snaps between snorts, I can see that he’s been shoved my way. Yeah, we could be beautiful…

“Ow!”

Just not today. “Hey, are you okay?”

This Jansport sporting asshole twists his face up right in mine. “Get away, nerd!” Jesus Christ.

The choir of angels go on–I’m just trying to make it to the cafeteria and grab a fucking chicken pot pie. I’m starving, and I could use a little less soundtrack.

Freak! Slut! Cripple! Homo! Homo! Homo! 

But, listen. It’s not a total nightmare. There’s light at the end of the tunnel. Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke or Brown–

–or, NYU, if we’re being really serious. 

“Wake from this coma, take my diploma–” God. This chick’s voice seems to cut through the din of the hallway like a bell, “Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy covered walls and smoky French cafes…”

“Sooo uber pretentious!”

“Watch it, freak!” I don’t even need to turn around to figure out who that’s directed at. But, I’m a little preoccupied with singing my own tune, here! Muscling through to the lunch line, grabbing a tray while I–

“–fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze. Hey, Ronnie!” 

Dude, shut up! I swing around, trying to spot the owner of that very different, very familiar dulcet tone when some duckbill hat wearing dickwad upends my lunch tray. Dressed in Hawkins Tiger green and gold, this is one of many prize dickwads. 

Bear with me, I’m trying to place him.

“Ooops.”

Andy Sweeney. Indiana’s worst point guard… “whose true talent lies in being a huge dick.”

Did I mention before about that lack of filter between my brain and my mouth? I patch it up pretty good most of the time, but sometimes…

“What did you say to me, skank?” Andy demands of me all darkly and shit. It’s scary. Even if I’ve got a foot and a half on him.

“Aaah!” I recoil, looking at his flexing fists, “Nothing.”

I back up from him, way way up, leaving my mess of a lunch tray on the ground. Even though that makes me feel shitty–when did I become the guy who left stuff for the already harangued janitorial staff to clean up? 

We were kind before; we can be kind once more… 

Head down. Stalk through. Find the Hellfire table. But, not before someone chucks me lightly on the arm. 

“Agh!” I holler before I register him. I am totally on edge. “Hey, Eddie.”

“Hey,” he grins in a sardonic way that says I cannot believe we’re putting ourselves through this again. 

Eddie Munson. My best friend since pre-pube. The closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother, unless Granny finally lets me get that gecko I’ve always wanted. I’m almost eighteen, for Chrissake, I should be allowed. 

Anyway, Eddie rocks. We know this. Look at him. 

“We still on for movie night?” he asks.

I beam. Our first day of school comedown tradition. “Shit yeah, you’re on Jiffy Pop detail.”

Eddie’s got a little pep in his step and it jangles his wallet chain. Dude can’t help but attract attention– almost all of it unwanted. “I rented Evil Dead.”

“Hohoho, again? Wait, don’t you have it memorized by now?”

“What can I say?” Before I can even warn him, Eddie’s backstepping straight into– “I’m a sucker for a gory ending.” 

“Eddie Munson, king of the trailer park! What, you didn’t qualify for free lunches this year?”

A hand comes down hard on the age-old tin lunchbox Eddie’s carrying. The clatter it makes against the lino makes me want to cover my ears and hide, especially when I see Eddie’s face. Total resignation. It’s humiliating. 

This guy?

Tommy Hagan. He’s the smartest guy on the basketball team, which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Too goddamn easy, man!” he guffaws, and I would try to figure out what farm animal he most resembles, but apparently I’m too busy–

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!” –being the hero.

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” Tommy also tries to tower over me, but I’ve got a decent number of inches on him too. 

My cheeks blaze.

“Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend. You’re a high school has-been waiting to happen. Tell me, Tommy, do you actually have a personality outside of sticking your nose right up Steve Harrington’s ass?”

Tommy gets closer and closer. So close that I can see the nose hair move as he huffs through his freckly nostrils. His finger points right between my eyebrows.

“… you have a zit right there.”

Cue rapturous laughter from the peanut gallery. 

Dear diary…

Why do they hate me? Why don’t I fight back? Why do I act like such a creep? Why won’t he date me? Why did I hit him? Why do I cry myself to sleep? 

Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me!

Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope here! Something to live for!

The doors of the cafeteria burst open and Tommy’s attention is thankfully wrenched away from me. Everyone’s attention is wrenched away from me. Because we’ve all been waiting for this.

They enter the caf in a solid formation, so solid that people part for them. Some gazing, some gawping, some glaring. The name calling ceases, the bullying pauses. 

This is the royal court. They float above it all. 

Tina Burton, head cheerleader. Her dad is loaded. He sells engagement rings. 

Heather Holloway, runs the yearbook. Badly. No discernible personality, but her mom did pay for implants. 

Even the lessers are notorious. Carol Perkins has been having sex since, like, seventh grade. Cass Finnigan’s been pretending to save it for Jesus but giving a backdoor key to whoever buys her peach schnapps. Nicole Summers invented three new slurs last year alone. 

And finally, Lacy Doevski. 

The Almighty. 

She is a mythic bitch. 

These girls, they’re solid Teflon. Never bothered. Never harassed– 

“I would give anything to be like that.”

And I know I don’t sit in that thought alone. Glancing around the tables, the coagulation of cliques, I can hear the desire coming from my classmates. 

I’d like to be their boyfriend. If I sat at their table, guys would notice me. I’d like them to be nicer. 

“What’s the over-under on one of those harpies getting kidnapped, taken to some abandoned warehouse to be photographed naked and left for the rats?” Eddie mutters into my ear as we slam ourselves down at our regular table. 

I roll my freakin’ eyes. “I told you that your Barb Holland theory was insane.”

Eddie shrugs, flipping open his recovered lunchbox. “Just sayin’... They never found a body. Anyway, my money's on the ice queen. If everything they're sayin' about her dad is true, she is prime ransom material.”

“You are so unnecessarily twisted.” But my eyes are still following the crown jewels. I notice that Lacy, Tina and Heather all rise to the girl’s room immediately after they finish their minimal lunch. 

I interrupt Eddie and Gareth’s too-intense-for-lunchtime debate about the morality of posthumously publishing The Silmarillion. “I have to take a leak.” 

As I gently push the door of the bathroom open, I can see Tina standing nervously at an open stall door. Heather is ralphing like her life depends on it. The reptilian arch of Lacy Doevski is bent towards the mirror, touching up her lipstick. 

“Grow up, Heather,” Lacy says in this voice that could weirdly be misconstrued as concerned,  “Bulimia is so sophmoronic.” 

Tina grimaces. “Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather.”

From inside the stall, Heather’s voice echos. “Yeah, Heather– I mean, Tina. Maybe I should.” 

I’m about to open my mouth, say something about ginger ale or peppermint tea, but Mrs O’Donnell enters behind me. I dive into a nearby stall, pretty confident I haven’t been spotted. But, I leave just enough of a crack in the door to watch everything that unfolds out there.

“Ah, I should have known–”

Heather vomits again. Damn, how can she pull trig so much on so little?

“–the witches from Macbeth always travel in a trio.” Her heels click over the cracked, yellowing tile, but the way Lacy turns from the mirror gives even O’Donnell pause. “Perhaps you didn’t hear the bell over all the vomiting. You’re late for class.”

Hey. Idea. I dig around in my backpack and scribble on a piece of paper, leaning against the bathroom door.

“Heather wasn’t feeling well.” Lacy says. Again, confusing enough to sound kind! “We’re helping her.”

O’Donnell chuckles all airly. Like she’s any match for her. “Not without a hall pass, you’re not. Week’s detention.”

That’s my cue. I scurry out of the stall, presenting O’Donnell with–

“Um, actually, Mrs O’Donnell, all four of us are out on a hall pass.” I gulp and glance at Heather, who’s finally hauled herself off her knees. “Yearbook committee.”

It’s super hard to breathe as O’Donnell inspects my handiwork. It hits me that this could go horribly, horribly wrong, and I can feel Lacy’s eyes boring into a hot spot on the back of my head.

O’Donnell arches her eyebrow. “I see you’re all listed. Hurry up and get where you’re going.”

She goes to hand the note back to me, but Lacy intercepts. Once the coast is clear, she takes her time looking it over. 

“This is an excellent forgery,” she tells me. A drop of freezing sweat runs down my back. “Who are you?”

“Uh, Ronnie– Veronica Ecker,” I stumble. “We were lab partners last year?”

Lacy’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t remember taking the lead on coolly dissecting a frog in front of me, it seems.

“Doesn’t matter. I crave a boon.”

She holds her glare on me. Jesus, why do I feel like I’m about to have my throat slit? “What boon?”

“Um. Let me sit at your lunch table. Just once. No talking necessary. If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they’ll leave me alone…”

What? It worked for Nancy Wheeler. Even if she had to boink Steve Harrington to do it, but I can't quite stretch that far.

The girls all chorus in laughter at me. Oof. 

“Before you answer, I can also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes.” Dude, I cannot tell you where this boost of bravery (or foolhardiness) is coming from.

“How about prescriptions?” Heather asks.

“Shut up, Heather,” Lacy cuts. 

“Sorry, Lacy.”

Then, she zeroes in on me. Takes slow steps toward me, just like Tommy Hagan did. But her stare is tearing strips right through me. I even freaking hunch as she gets closer.

“For a greasy little nobody,” Lacy says, her voice dropping low so I have to strain to hear her, “you do have good bone structure.”

Tina and Heather must already be tuned into this Lacy-only frequency.

“And a proportional body,” Tina adds. “If someone didn’t catch you during a basket toss, you’d probably only kind of fracture your spine. That’s very important. 

“Of course, you could stand to de-hobo your wardrobe.” Heather goes so far as to flick the flappy pocket on the front of my overalls. “Salvation Army much?”

“And ya know, ya know, ya know…” the shiniest jewel in the crown hums, tapping her lipstick tube against her cheek, “This could be beautiful.” Her painted fingers pinch my chin and turn it down toward her–because I’m fucking tall. “Mascara, maybe some lipgloss and we’re on our way. Get this girl some blush– and Heather, I need your brush. Let’s make her beautiful.”

A manic looking Tina produces a vanity bag out of absolutely nowhere. “Let’s make her beautiful…”

“Let’s make her beautiful?” Heather snarks, but Lacy shoves a hand in her face. 

Her eyes turn on me again. Dark and sparkly and… and… smiling. At me. “Okay?”

“Okay!”

Then, whaddaya know, smash cut, it’s the next freaking day. I don’t know how that works, but I don’t see another goddamn narrator so pipe down. 

The halls are their usual shitshow– Billy Hargrove shoves the new Hellfire freshman, Gareth, into a locker. Eddie hauls him up by the collar and they run headlong into a gaggle of girls, who all scream because every nerd that plays a fantasy game is contagious. 

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

“Get away, pervert!”

“What did I ever do to them?” Gareth yelps, exasperated. Hard not to feel bad for the kid.

But Eddie’s sage about it, even though he knows it’s as unfair as I do. “You’ll get used to it, freshman.”

“No, dude!” Gareth pushes back, verging on a panic attack, “Who could survive this! I can’t escape this–I think I’m dying!”

O’Donnell, hot on the tardy check, appears behind the both of ‘em. “Who’s that with Lacy?”

“Damn. Someone got a welfare increase,” Nicole Summers hatefully snarls.

“Who’s the babe?” says Andy Sweeney.

But Eddie Munson, oh-ho, Eddie Munson settles his eyes into slits. Anytime, any place, he’d know–

“Veronica?!”

“Veronica?” Cass and Carol caw.

“Veronica?” Steve and Tommy mimic. 

And Lacy Doevski… she looks to her dutiful right, and smirks. “Veronica?”

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful! 

My whole life, I haven’t had a choice but to be one of the boys. My best friend’s a boy. I’m in a band with all boys. I’m surrounded by boys all the time who make gross boy jokes and do stupid boy shit. Nobody, not even my Granny, even though she fucking rules, ever asked me if… if I wanted to put on a skirt and get my goddamned nails painted. And it’s not as if I mind being on the more masculine side of things but, shit, is it so wrong to want something? Even if I believed what I was pretty much dragged up to believe, by all my friends and the world at large around me–that being a chick was totally dumb. Couldn’t I try it on?

You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! 

Lacy beckoned me into her walk-in closet, which was about as big as my bedroom and smelled of gardenia, and put me in a pleated skirt set that she said didn’t fit her temperament anymore. ‘But it’d work for a novice.’

Ask me how it feels, lookin’ like hell on wheels–

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Eddie seethes as I pass, carried on the cloud of Lacy’s perfume.

‘My god, it’s beautiful!’ I’d said, spinning around in the stupid, flippy skirt. 

“Those bobbleheads totally morphed her!”

‘I might be beautiful!’ I mumbled, fingering the diamond studs she put in my ears that she made Heather pierce.

“She looks like–like–” Gareth chokes.

And when you’re beautiful…

“A girl!”

… it’s a beautiful fuckin’ day!

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Now, at first, I think I’m fucking flatlining, expecting to wake up with goddamn tubes down my throat and shit– but I’m not. I’m in my regular old bed, with my regular old alarm clock screaming at me. I smash my hand down on it and jerk up, out of the covers.

First place I go is my wardrobe. 

I feel the physical sensation of my heart dropping like a lead kite when I flick through my old thrift store samesies and Granny Ecker hand-me-downs to find no such minty plaid skirt set. 

Just a dream. 

Which is such a bullshit conceit. Sorry to break it to you. 

I admit defeat and pull on my overalls, scrunching my ballcap over my head and muscle out the door. I’m already late, for me. 

But–then, there’s an apparition hovering at my mailbox. 

Someone who excitedly takes notice and waves when she catches me staring, arm stretching out of her fur-trimmed peacoat–which is looking a tiny touch shabbier than it used to these days. 

“Happy early acceptance day, asshole!” Lacy Doevski sing-songs. Sing-songs. Which is… something I have to readjust to, given the liminal version of her I just experienced.

“Oh.. jeez,” I mutter, feeling dazed still, “I forgot that was today.”

Lacy’s brow gets all pinchy. “You okay? You look like steamed dogshit.”

“Thank you so much,” I drawl sarcastically, “It’s nothing, I slept funky. Where’s Eddie?”

Lacy shifts in herself a little, tucking hair behind her ears and avoiding my eyes. “How should I know?” Right. That. The daylight version of this little tryst they pretend they’re not having. Honestly, if the two of them would just bang it out– well, maybe things might be worse off and this weird little platonic ménage à trois of ours would be totally ruined forever, but at least I’d have to stop tiptoeing around them. “Come on, are you gonna open it or what?”

Oh, right. There’s a whole gravity of a situation supposed to be happening here.

I kind of feel the saliva gathering at the hinges in my jaw, you know the way you do when you’re about to puke your guts up? But then, I remember. Bulimia is so sophmoronic. 

I yank open that rusty mailbox and a thick, thick envelope with a New York University imprint sits inside. I yank it out.

Lacy stares at me like I’m the dude holding the thing the Ten Commandments were written on. 

I’m not drawing this shit out. I am not teasing myself, dude, you couldn’t pay me to–savagely, I rip the envelope open, which makes Lacy cringe. She probably has a little knife for these sorts of things, knowing her. 

Dear Veronica,

Congratulations! I am delighted to inform you…

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Well…?”

I thrust that hot, heavy paper right into that pretty girl’s face. “Full. Goddamned. Ride.” 

Lacy gasps, grasping the letter so hard it leaves claw marks. Her eyes shake back and forth, reading and re-reading the whole acceptance ream. It’s weird, and I know it’s weird, but I’m standing there, looking at her and trying to make her make sense with the Lacy that showed up in my dream. That girl existed, and she was mystifying, in a horrifying way. A total reign of ice cold terror. But now, I’m staring at Lacy, who’s all short, weird angles and specific enthusiasm and… it’s hard to see how those two girls ever lived in the same body. 

She’s a little Whitman. She’s got those multitudes. And, actually, so do I.

“I knew it!” Lacy hisses, “And I want you to know that I’m not at all bitter. While I should be celebrating early acceptance with you, I’m glad–”

I grin at her. “You’re a little bitter.”

“Fine, I’m a little bitter, but I’m mostly excited. New York City, Ron! That’s transformative!”

“Yeah… speaking of. Lacy?”

“Yes?”

Dreams are meant to be prophetic and shit, right?

“Doyouwannagivemeamakeover?”

She cocks her head at me. She still hasn’t let go of that acceptance letter yet. “What?”

“Do you.” I take the envelope from her hands. I know she’s capable of identity theft. “Want to give me. A makeover.”

“Huh?” Her fingers stay curled around imaginary paper. Oh, my god.

“You heard me! And I hate repeating myself!” I flail a little. I get like that, quick to bug sometimes. “Look, you said it, New York is gonna be… transformative. I’m going to be a freaking lawyer, dude, fingers crossed, all going well.”

Lacy nods, not a hair out of place, with perfect confidence,“You are.”

“And when was the last time you saw a lawyer wearing fuckin’ overalls?! Huh? The people vs Howdy Doody?”

“I like your overalls.” I know she’s saying this because it’s the right thing to say, and she’s been practicing doing that really hard. She also might like them now, after repeated exposure, in a Stockholm syndrome sort of way. 

“But they don’t scream esquire,” I impress upon her. And it’s true. I truly do believe that I can’t set foot in New York fucking City looking like I just fell off the back of a turnip truck–nor do I want to. 

It takes a big fat beat, but her face changes. Lacy looks almost dastardly–dark, sparkling eyes like Lacy from the dream. She looks me right over, making the calculations of how to reupholster tragically unfashionable me in her mind. And then she arches her eyebrow.

“Well, remember… you asked, Veronica.”

[hungry-skeleton]

Now that I've had time to process the game properly I've got some Thoughts™ about Into The Hive.. Spoilers under cut for the 2 people on tumblr that play Chicken Police

First things first, I cannot say with a sound mind that this was a bad game because it wasn't. Into The Hive was a fucking blast up until the final act. The gameplay itself was very fun and the visuals were a huge upgrade from Paint It Red. To get it out of the way, yes I understand that it had a rough development due to covid and publisher changes so I can't be too mad about some jank details. However, some of the writing choices were just. Baffling honestly.

For the Hive itself, I was so hyped to finally see it from all the buildup it had in the first game. Unfortunately I don't think this game really delivered? It wasn't an outright disappointment it was just... Eh? The original game made it seem like a lawless wasteland with corpses and cannibals everywhere but all it really turned out to be was a dirtier city with even more depressed people. I was expecting to walk into a purge movie honestly, but maybe that's my fault. For the Hive being the name of the game we barely did any exploring, I feel like we only scratched the surface of the place and didn't even get to see the worst of it.

The exploration of this game in general just felt less in depth than the first. There's no real optional characters to speak to unlike the first game (which makes the Talkative Breed achievement kinda pointless) and it overall felt more cramped and railroaded. There wasn't any limited time events for special dialogue like in the first game unless you count like.. The Bloodboyle birthday thing that's super easy to miss.

While the characters were fantastic as always the only real problem with them was the seemingly shoehorned "romance" between Sonny and Monica. I know haha I'm the "sonny and marty are super gay" guy but speaking entirely about canon, this just doesn't work. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Monica. She and Sonny's one on one interactions in the later half of the game were great, but there's literally nothing about their relationship that is romantic to me. They're good friends, they have been since the first game, and literally nothing about the way they interacted changed. Yet every character was acting as if there was suddenly sparks flying and unmistakable chemistry. They acted the same towards each other as they always have?? I get that the games theme is moving on but I don't think a new relationship is necessary for Sonny to do that, especially not in the way that it was handled.

The final act is where the issues really become prevalent. This games biggest problem is how obviously rushed the conclusion is. Everything was smooth sailing and really enjoyable until the climax. We didn't get to understand the villains and their motivations the way we did Wessler in Paint It Red. In fact we barely got any time with them. Mick was there for a grand total of 2 minutes before fucking vanishing and all we really got out of him was a half baked backstory that he admitted to way too quickly. Everything culminated in the villains being 3 steps ahead of us the entire time and the grand victory just being shooting the bitch (which Sonny once again couldn't do himself). All this did was make me feel like everything I had done was for jack shit. Every clue and lead a trap that was ended with a single bullet. So unbelievably unfulfilling, even if it was still a victory.

Lastly, of course, the elephant in the room. Marty's death was stupid, plain and simple. Writing out of the way, the logistics just didn't make sense? Did Mick only have one bullet or something? Why'd he drive away after a single shot? Marty's death added literally nothing to the story. It was abrupt, thrown in at the last few minutes of the game, and almost felt sort of... passive aggressive in a way? I don't know how else to put it.. There was an air of insincerity to the entire sequence. If you're going to permanently kill a main character there had better be a good reason and there just wasn't one. I literally cannot fathom why this choice was made. So they didn't have to make anymore games? Okay then just don't? Why'd you have to do that? Marty had a family to return to and Sonny had already made up his mind on leaving Clawville, the end of the Chicken Police was already set in stone.. This just felt like an unnecessary jab at no-one in particular.

Some smaller things that bothered me, rather than answering some older questions the last game set up like the shooting incident they instead chose to not answer anything and throw in a few more questions about Sonny's past that will likely never be answered now. Unless they intend on making prequels of some kind? But even that just doesn't feel right now. You see what needlessly killing a main character does? Lmao. Also for the combining feature in the inventory being added we barely got to use it, I wish there was more use in that.

Characters and voice acting were fantastic as always. But otherwise yeah, that's what was on my mind. It's a solid 6/10. I had a great time but the final act really soils so much of the full experience. Lmk what you few other Chicken Police fans on Tumblr think

OK I'm done yapping now, I'm gonna draw Sonny and Marty kissing sloppy style

[alisaint]

Bravery is literally one of will's core traits, so your side trying to erase that and make him into some powerless, delicate, dainty crybaby is genuinely depressing. Will stans are constantly in the trenches to rescue Will from these unfair boxes, and it's like your taking all the things will haters believe about will and then saying, "actually, you're right," instead of challenging those assumptions/stereotypes.

But of course, Will can't be brave and also be the eternally vulnerable feminine damsel in distress y'all clearly want him to be, so you erase Will's canonical bravery in favor of exaggerating Mike's bravery. They both have shown bravery, and they both have shown fear as well.

Why would you even ship byler if you believe will is eternally helpless and wimpy and mike has to step in and save him all the time??? If that was actually their dynamic, that would be weird and lopsided. But that's just... not what happens in the show?

They both are equals. Within the canon of Stranger Things.

It's not about making the characters into "yaoi" whatever, nor is it about buff byers or anything like that. It's about actively making Will out to inherently be cowardly, equating sensitivity with weakness, and then claiming you're following canon, when no? You're viewing things through an incredibly biased filter. And it's very backwards.

have you ever interacted with someone in the real physical world? for extended periods of time? perhaps even through turmoil? do you remember what school was like and the other kids you went to school with? have you ever looked at the world, the horrors that occur in it, and how that changes people? have you ever gone to a nursing home or an assisted living center? have you ever met someone with a disability? have you ever met multiple kinds of gay people, including the ones that fit stereotypes? have you ever looked at gay history and the people that made it up, many of whom are what we based stereotypes off of? my final question was going to be, have you experienced enough growth and development to understand this thing called nuance?, but i can see by your elementary, defensive, and frankly unrealistic way of thinking, not to mention the "sides" comment lol, that the answer to that question is no.

will is a crybaby, because he cries a lot. why is that a bad thing? is it because he's a boy? his life fucking sucks. of course he's going to cry a lot.

he *is* mostly powerless. he can't defend himself against bullies or monsters or vecna. he always needs help and that's okay.

he is delicate. he requires careful handling which is why everyone approaches him differently than they do others. this isn't the same as babying him, it's just having tact. he's also a sensitive kid. emphasis on sensitive, and emphasis on the fact that he's still a kid. also, he is liable to break. he's gay in a small town and feels alone and scared and is in love with someone he not only thinks he'll never have a chance with but who is in love with his sister/other friend. he's in a very vulnerable position to be approached again by vecna, not even counting the other reasons like ptsd, abuse, etc.

no one is erasing will's bravery. in my rb i even mentioned that i think fans were voting will bc they were thinking of his ability to persevere. still, that's different and the poll asks who's bravER. as in who is more brave. and i think that mike is more brave, because even when it comes to stuff like internal struggles... you still need to pry that shit out of will and he only comes clean at the last possible moment when he can no longer keep it to himself without hurting someone.

like i said, he chickened out of telling mike. he didn't want to believe or trust himself in s3 and only said smth when it could no longer be denied without people possibly getting hurt. in s2 he keeps it to himself until joyce makes him talk by telling him she already knows. etc etc.

will is brave. he's brave for wanting to get his truth off his chest even though he can't. he's brave for telling mike that yes he did want to spend forever with him n bringing it up again a year later. he's brave for saying WHO CARESSSSSS abt your relationship problems. he's brave for sticking up to the shadow monster. he's brave for running to the shed to load that gun as a last resort. he was brave to spy back on the shadow monster. but that does not mean he was able to see that bravery through all the way every single time. and you know who does? mike.

also, it is possible to be brave and be a damsel in distress. remember when will told them to close the gate? he was in trouble and he was still willing to go down if it meant saving everyone else. it's almost like your black and white thinking is nonsensical, not even canon-based, and not at all what i've ever argued.

mike's bravery doesn't need to be exaggerated either. it speaks for itself. i and everyone else defending mike in those tags just stated point blank what he did. we didn't need to exaggerate anything lol. but hey it's kinda funny and cool for him that you think just listing his accomplishments is a brag in and of itself lmaoooo

will and mike are complementary, and it's their complementary matching puzzle piece parts that once put together make them equal. i mean, obviously they're equal human beings on their own. but they have qualities that balance each other out and work off of each other in ways that make them a formidable duo. that's why will is so in love with him and even aside from the romance trusts mike more than anyone, and why mike feels at home with will by his side, most himself when with will, and why he can't make it work with el.

also, you sound like a dumbass insinuating that i believe sensitivity is weakness. you're talking to a damn war vet lmao that's why i couldn't tell if you were mocking me with your first message. i've been yelling for yearsssss that will's sensitivity that is perceived as a weakness by antagonists in canon is precisely his strength and what has saved his life.

you sound like a dumbass in general by acting like any of these "negative" traits are bad. newsflash dude everyone has moments when they're cowardly! not everyone in the world is a fighter! sometimes people have ptsd and other disorders that make them freeze up! some people, including boys/men, cry a lot! sometimes people are more brave than others! that's just life!!!!!!! i literally don't know what to tell you. these things make will more real. they make mike more real too. i don't know why you think they're such bad things.

[absolutebl]

Love your blog! Do you have any recs for people (me!) who liked: Tale of 1000 Stars, Unknown, Moonlight Chicken, Secret Crush on You, My Beautiful Man, Be My Favorite, Sing My Crush, and We Are (Cute), please? I disliked My Stand In, Love Sea, and Only Friends. I tend to like character driven instead of plot driven stories, and please, no silly misunderstandings or misguided noble morons who break up because a parent suggests it!

Do I detect... a challenge? *rubs hands together* we are playing my favorite game.

Okay, likes:

Tale of 1000 Stars

Unknown

Moonlight Chicken

Secret Crush on You

My Beautiful Man

Be My Favorite

Sing My Crush

We Are

I crossed out the ones that don't fit the trend (outliers) and congratz your wheelhouse is:

moody, atmospheric, angsty, tiny bit cerebral, bit gritty, higher production value, soft focus, lower heat levels but yearning, bit of domesticity, acting chops

Dislikes: My Stand In, Love Sea, Only Friends

Okay not too far into angst, no nasty characters, no dubious tropes or anti-heros, no mame, no high heat, university or older. CHECK! Got it.

Ready?

Right in your damn wheelhouse:

The 8th Sense

(20 points to whoever knew that would be my pull out the gate)

One of the longest BLs Korea has given us (like Blueming) and it feels more atmospheric gay coming of age romance than strictly BL. It’s got a bit of an age gap, country boy/city boy, stellar acting, complex characters, and leads with great chemistry and tension. It’s a bit chewy and sticky and less perfect than most KBLs (do I detect a touch of Taiwan?) This one deployed BL tropes (messy eater, shoulder sleep, protective seme, there’s even some hyung-slinging) but front loaded them with painful backstory and then a ton of angst to drive the 2nd half. This isn’t in the KBL bubble, there’s sharp edges and lots of triggers. For a BL the darkness of the content left me feeling unsettled (which is the only reason it didn't get a perfect score) but it does have a glorious ending and that counts for a lot.

I think you'd really love this one.

Trigger warnings - suicide, loss of a family member.

Blueming

It’s a tiny bit dark and a tiny bit bittersweet, almost too honest to a university experience and first love (for BL), but if you want your mind ever-so-slightly messed with and your intimacy hellishly sweet, this BL will do it for you in a coldly distant manner, while bitch slapping you with self worth issues. I wasn’t into it at first, but the leads are solid and by ep 5 it got really good, becoming a narrative about self discovery meets understanding and accepting others people’s flaws without hurting them. Ultimately, we witnessed two characters maturing because of each other and their mutual affection, without that affection becoming the conflict point. Instead, tension was built around other aspects of identity, popularity, and self-worth. While production values were a touch lower than usual for Korea, Blueming included decent kisses and beyond plus a satisfying ending and come judicious and very elegant use of tropes. It is, in the end, simply a great BL.

Also Bleuming paved the road for 8th Sense and other gritty KBL to follow.

Love For Love's Sake

Isekai-based KBL is about a man who must win a game by convincing a reserved teen outcast to fall in love with him. Of course, that teen represents himself and his own unhappiness. Like many queer narratives, this show is actually about self worth, trust, and found family, and it is VERY on the nose. But I don’t expect subtlety from my BL and I enjoyed it's truly lovely redemption arc and earnest performances. I personally found the narrative a touch disjointed with overworked filming angles and poorer than average captions, but the consistency of tone, script, and immersion is beyond the norm for BL. You will drown in this show and like it that way. The leads have fantastic chemistry and it's ultimately highly rewatchable and utterly charming, which counts for a lot.

Trigger warning - suicide.

Unintentional Love Story

OMG the plot! Uke forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the PAIN in those gorgeous eyes. Gah. Okay, so: A boy loses his job due to trumped-up corruption charges accidentally discovers his ex-boss's favorite artist, now a recluse. Evil manager offers him his job back, if he can convince the artist to rejoin society. Instead, they fall in love. I found the artist a bit stiff and reserved but Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT - he carried this show (which I do not expect from the idol element). He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, just drown in the emoting abyss. The external conflict, social tension and pressure is complex and beautifully executed, plus Korea gave us legit side dishes (NOT a love triangle, hally-fucking-luya).

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho

You mentioned My Beautiful Man so if you're feel like that energy, grown up, watch this. It's a style of live action yaoi really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat than we usually get from Japan's HEA stuff, and that part is also very well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. However, that's angst for Japan. And you like angst. Honestly? It's great, but watching requires more patience than usual, even for Japan.

My Ride

Thai BL grew up with this pulp (the first ever to make my end of year top 10). It’s a truly lovely and special little show featuring the extremely rare pairing of sunshine/sunshine (AKA a cinnamon roll couple) plus mature explorations of relationships using one of the softest, sweetest and most innocent friends to lovers vehicles. Kindly, overworked doctor meets broken-hearted motorcycle taxi driver in an “other side of the tracks” slow burn romance. The support cast is excellent, making for great friendship groups and family dynamics. With honest queer rep that adds to, but doesn’t impede, the story, and genuine conversation about the nature of class, wealth, and classism, not to mention communication, honesty, and respect for boundaries, you can’t go wrong with this show. In other news, I am a sucker for a single dimple.

It won't have the production values you're used to but it is a great show.

A Breeze of Love

Tsundere insomniac grump reunited with his sunshine jock ex (human sleeping pill) who now hates him. Basketball is also involved. While the simplicity of a reunion plot makes this more cohesive than most KBLs, it is a tad stiff and slow, never managing to lift itself out of "pretty, angsty, and pretty enjoyable." I liked it more than I thought I would, and think about it more too. 

Jazz for Two

This was basically what I wanted from Given and didn’t get. So I’m pleased. A solid enemies to lovers BL, where the sins of brothers' past haunts the present. Great optics, decent chemistry, and a tidy script even if tsundere characterization went a bit extreme in some cases.

Trigger warning - suicide.

Like In The Movies AKA Gaya Sa Pelikula

Karl, a student living alone, runs short of funds and ends up becoming housemates with Vald an out and proud chaos gay. This leads Karl into an identity crisis and journey of self discovery. This kind of forced proximity trope is really common in BL, but what Gaya does is handle it in a messy honestly queer way. It includes Vlad’s attitude in response to Karl’s shaken behavior and the frustration many out queers feel. For that alone it has to be applauded.

DNA Says Love You

DNA deserves extra marks for an upbeat approach to a queer story arc that other shows have systemically mishandled with sadness (in the guise of realism). There is a twist, which I found predictable, but knowing what would happen didn't spoil this show. The leads are luminous and engaging, and it’s full of queer found family representation and an unexpected amount of domesticity, plus it’s Taiwan, so the kisses are great. The first few eps are rough going but PLEASE have patience, it's worth it I promise! The second half is really special and life/love affirming - and the end is big-grin charming.

My Tooth Your Love

Earnest dentist hottie with sad eyes who worries too much is smitten by an adorable sunshine neurotic bar owner with serious anxiety issues. They fall madly in love while courting each other with food, plushies, and naps. Then, shocker, talk about their feelings and try to actually sort out their problems so they can have an adult relationship. Bonus crumbs = 18 year old poor little rich kid in mad crush with a much older man. I really enjoyed this show, it had a unique premise, killer dialogue, there was a solid lead pair with charming chemistry, soft flirtation, delightful smiling kisses, and stinkingly cute domesticity. All that said, I wasn’t wild about some of the darker themes it explored, even though it did a good job with them. And while the sides were adorable, they were underused. In the land of May/December, baby boy kabedon is my kryptonite! Why so little of it? (Kabedon is My Kryptonite = also the name of my indie band’s first single.)

Trigger warning - parental abuse.

The Eclipse

GMMTV does gay Blacklist with a good boy/bad boy pairing. This is a good show but the cast is excellent and the leads are absolutely flawless, which elevates it beyond just good. We got a nuanced and multifaceted burgeoning relationship: philosophical (and socio-political) conflict contrasted to moments of empathy; flirtation contrasted to moments of genuine affection, plus plenty of angst. This narrative is less about love than it is about courage and tenderness. However, near the end the pacing was off and the plot frustrating. Still, this is an enjoyable watch, with a finale that features verbal consent and a fun blooper reel.

Never Let Me Go

Bodyguard romance where poor boy must watch over rich boy for family obligation reasons. Simple premise well executed with a few bumps that made it feel like it was trying to tackle too much (when it wasn’t). Still, an enjoyable show that benefited from being handed to PondPhuwin who did a stellar job with their roles and chemistry. Of GMMTV handing out new series to established pairs in 2023 this is one of the most successful IMHO. It's typically Thai in that it's a bit bloated and has a confusing plot, but at least it HAD a plot and the central relationship is solid and loyal. The Our Skyy 2 follow up is great too. And very much adds to the cannon in a fun way rather than feeling superfluous - making this show ultimately 14 eps rather than 12.

Some real oddball and sophisticated suggestions

Addicted (original)

When Chinese BL was good it was very dirty good and when it was bad it was censored. This is the model for that statement: rich kid falls madly for the genius poor kid in his class, starts an aggressive pursuit, includes kidnapping for love, obsession, stepbrother trope, plus some cheating. I love this BL because of what I could have been. Just stop watching it after The Sex Scene. Okay?

It might not be right in your wheelhouse but what even fans forget about is how stunning the atmosphere is with this show. I mean we can feel the cold and the grunge. When they living poor it's REAL poor. It's a super immersive show. Unforgettable.

Began Beginning

Childhood best friends must come to terms with their own identities and true feelings for each other when a new boy comes to town, putting them into conflict with their families and ultimately, each other. For the first half of this show there’s a lot of sitting across from each other and talking about life choices over yummy food and then going to tourist spots (mildly boring and not particularly important to the plot). It changed tone about 2/3 in to be way more of a coming out family drama about forced marriages and homophobia. And then at the very end it changed again, becoming a full on soap opera with kidnapping, crazy characterization shifts, and rescue missions. All in all? It was a wild raw creature to consume as a binge. No kisses since this is Myanmar, but a very romantic end, so I think maybe actually worth your time? I'm certainly glad I watched it.

Stay Still

What to say about this offering from Hong Kong? It’s different, a mix of early CBL, Taiwanese shorts, and Pinoy visuals. It felt like the story was 2 independent shorts that had been lengthen and then stuck together, and I wish they'd been approached as separate and tighter entities. Nevertheless, this was a complex little piece, interesting in a sweaty grungy way, with a certain aura of queer authenticity that made it simultaneously tense, unpredictable, and refreshing. I’m not sure I would necessarily call it BL, but any county’s early foray into the genre usually starts out this way, so perhaps nascent BL? Worth watching, especially if you enjoy stuff from the Philippines and Taiwan.

On the lighter end but probably still in your wheelhouse

I Cannot Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai

Classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.

To My Star

Hwang Da Seul directs this show about a neurotic actor (actual puppy) who takes refuge with a grumpy chef resulting in sparks, cooking lessons, and LOVE! It’s is a touch quirky to get into, but utterly charming once it hits its stride. This is the ultimate grumpy/sunshine pairing plus the most appealing light-filled kitchen of our dreams. I adore this show so much. Limited use of BL tropes makes this feel more of a sweet contemporary gay romance between an actor plagued by scandal and the grumpy chef who adopts him, but the gentleness will appeal to fans of the BL genre.

Old Fashion Cupcake

This show had me from the moment they broke the egg yolk with the chopsticks in the opening credits. It’s about a younger man with a long cherished crush on his boss (ten years older and going through a mid life crisis) who decides to save and seduce said boss with pancakes. It’s wholesome, comforting, sexy, and a very necessary narrative about still having hope, interests, and openness to affection at any age. It’s a stunningly filmed late-in-life comg of age/queerness story packaged in a subtle critique of expectations around masculinity, love, and loneliness... and it’s beautiful.

Cherry Magic (Thai remake) - this is my We Are & SCOY match pull

A soft charming warm hug of a show about crushes and mind reading and self worth that really worked for me. With no-fuss execution from a consummate team (at GMMTV) and an OG lead pair (proving why they remain eternal and deserve to grow up). Look, here’s the thing, Cherry Magic is a great Thai BL in its own right - not comparing it to any other iteration. But even when I do compare (and I've seen all the Cherries and read the manga) it stand strong. I, personally, like the Thai BL slightly better than the Japanese live action yaoi, but I think that’s because I just really enjoy Thai BL's style and I LOVE TayNew. Also all the kissing was both present and better in this version. As it should be from Thailand.

Make a Wish

A doctor who can see the dead strikes a bargain with a wish-granting irreverent tree angel - naturally they fall in love (from Sammon: Manner of Death & Triage). Stars Fluke Natouch opposite not Ohm, but who cares because Fluke has chemistry with everybody. Once again the Thai afterlife is incredibly bureaucratic but I enjoyed the premise and the unfolding of the story (it’s not predictable but still satisfying and with nice little twist). I like that the doctor is just gay AF - fag hag bestie and made of swagger. The cast is excellent but the comedic stylings are a bit overblown and tonally off. It has sad parts and did make me cry but is ultimately happy with a great sex scene, good smiley kisses, and all the agency.

I thought about it but I'm not sure

still you can put these on your "maybe" list

Until We Meet Again

I Feel You Linger in the Air

La Pluie

Restart After Come Back Home

His the movie

Life: Love on the Line

Perfect Propose

Tokyo in April is

Love is Better the Second Time Around

Ocean Likes Me

My Only 12%

After Sundown

I Told Sunset About You

These might be a bit too cerebral, dark, and/or plot-heavy for you. But are worth it if you feel in the mood for something very chewy.

Currently airing

It's set in high school but it scratches the Unknown itch:

The On1y One

Sirs not appearing on this list but if you follow my blog and ask me for tips it's kind of required watching:

Seven Days.

Because everyone should watch it no matter what your taste. So there.

(source)

[marmorafarms]

NSFW Sebastian head canons

Hey hey hey! I shared my sfw head canons with all y'all regarding our number one boy Sebastian. But it has come to my attention that some nsfw ones should be shared as well!

I definitely have some spicy thoughts, but I'm going to put it under a read more because this post is...

18+ only! Please and thank you!

Okay now on to the fun stuff!

Okay, this first one isn't nsfw, but I need to put it here to provide context for the second bullet point. Sebastian refers to himself as "heteroflexible." That's because the only man he has ever been romantically or sexually interested in is Sam. Imagining himself with other guys makes him cringe, but Sam is different for some reason. (If your farmer is a man, he definitely has a major gay panic about it, and decides to come out as bisexual)

He discovered this in high school. He was 16, and someone made fun of him for never having kissed anyone. Sebastian complained to Sam about this when hanging out in his room after school. Sam said he could help out and give Sebastian his first kiss. After some consideration, Sebby agreed, and it ended with them both cumming in their pants after dry humping the shit out of each other.

Sebastian called himself a virgin up until he and the farmer had their first time together, specifically with penetrative sex. But he technically wasn't. He has given Sam plenty of blow jobs, and Sam has enthusiastically returned the favor.

The farmer laughed for approximately 10 hours when Sebastian told them this, and he tried to say "blow jobs don't count as sex!"

They definitely do Sebby. You just meant you hadn't had penetrative sex.

Sebby has what Sam calls "dick sucking lips." His mouth is definitely pretty. His lips are nice and full, and he likes having his lower lip bitten.

His nipples are super sensitive. He loves having them touched, licked, bitten, and sucked on. He can come untouched from nipple stimulation alone.

He loves giving oral. Pussy or dick, he doesn't care. He LOVES IT. He especially likes eating pussy because he can just keep going and give his partner multiple orgasms if they let him.

If he's sucking dick, he swallows every time. If his partner wants to give him a facial, he always sticks his tongue out in the hopes of getting some in his mouth

He is always down for a threesome. His preferred third is either Sam or Haley. The farmer is shocked by the revelation that he's dtf Haley, but Sebastian says it's because she's a freak in bed. Or so he's heard. And as it turns out, the rumors are very much true.

He enjoys getting pegged. He enjoys it A LOT.

Anal was never something that had even crossed Sebastian's mind, and he was against it as soon as it was suggested. This is true no matter what junk your farmer has. He doesn't see the appeal and doesn't think there is any way it could feel good.

When the farmer tells him about prostate stimulation, he agrees to try being fingered, but chickens out the first few times. But when it finally happens...he's obsessed.

He's pretty submissive in bed, but is a great dom when asked to play that role.

Loves tying people up and being tied up.

Likes breath play, but was insistent about doing copious amounts of research on how to do it properly.

He prefers to be the one choked, but will do it for you if you ask. Again, he refused to do it until he was positive he knew what he was doing.

Getting his hair pulled is a huge turn on for him. He will let out a truly pornographic moan if you pull it hard.

He does not like face fucking others, but enjoys having it done to him.

Sit on his face. Just do it. He absolutely loves it and will hold your hips TIGHT so that you can't budge an inch once your pussy is on his mouth.

His dick is on the thicker side, and he's a bit longer than average. He wouldn't refer to himself as hung, but he's a good size.

Going bareback was a goddamn religious experience for him, but it completely ruined sex with a condom for him. He'll wear one without complaint if asked, but it takes him a lot longer to even feel good, let alone cum.

Can and will wear anything you want him to. Costumes? Whatever you want. Lingerie? Just tell him your favorite color.

Loves to make out. Like yes, fucking is great, but he absolutely adores long make out sessions. They don't have to end with orgasms, but he won't complain if they do.

Has a huge thing for formal wear. As soon as you entered the farmhouse after the wedding, he was all over you.

Loves to take sex slow, but isn't opposed to a quickie if that's what you're in the mood for.

And that's what I have for right now! Let me know what you think!