#if I listed out everyone we would be here a while probably

[ace-malarky]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! As your username is ace-malarky I have to ask: are any of your characters ace and is asexuality a theme you explore in your writing? Or are you ace in a ace pilot way? an ace of spades way?

ahaha yeah so most? of my characters? tend to be ace bc like if I don't think about it that's the default

it's less of a theme these days, but Leiri had a whole story about coming to terms with her asexuality and it comes up with Bri as well, though Bri has the whole ace of witches joke thing going on (theirs was a metaphor for not having magic. I was not subtle)

all that romance I've been writing with Mav/Nel, Syn/Hal, Llinos/Kaua? all ace to varying degrees

there'll be a bit of coming to terms with it somewhat in Mav/Nel's story bc it's important to Nelaeryn's character arc etc, which'll be possibly the first time I write it not from the viewpoint character

[todayisafridaynight]

I’m fairly new to the fandom, but I do have a question if you can answer it! Why do people ship Daigo with Aoki / Masato? I tried looking to see if they’ve interacted before, but couldn’t find anything! Sorry for asking I’m just </3 dumb AND I LOVE YOUR ART OF THEM!!! Nerd looking ahhhhhh

hi ! welcome to the community i hope you're having a lovely time so far and ty for enjoyin my stuff :) no need for apologies it's a very fair question to have :]

i cant speak for everyone (all. ten people into masadai anyway) but Personally To Me i just think the idea of them together is very funny. thats quite literally it im afraid..

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours

synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his

— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)

— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!

— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys

satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.

“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.

“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”

“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.

“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”

“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.

he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”

“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”

“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”

“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”

“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.

“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”

“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”

“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.

even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”

“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.

satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.

he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.

you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.

so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?

and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.

you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.

satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.

he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.

“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”

“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”

“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”

“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.

everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.

“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”

he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”

“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”

“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”

“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”

“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.

you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.

“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.

“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.

“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”

“got it,” you nod furiously.

“got what?”

“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”

“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”

“just what?” he raises a brow.

“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.

he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.

your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.

“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”

“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”

“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”

“say you love me,” he demands.

it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”

and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.

and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.

satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.

“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”

“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”

he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.

it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.

he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.

satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.

when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.

“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”

“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.

“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”

and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.

but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.

it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.

and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.

“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”

“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”

“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”

“how long do you plan on being mine?”

“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”

���well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”

“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”

“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”

“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.

“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”

dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this

[the-cimmerians]

It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.

In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"

"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."

It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"

In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."

Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.

***

In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.

***

The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.

***

By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"

I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"

She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."

"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.

When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.

***

By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.

***

Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.

1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.

[rafesangelita]

⊹₊⟡⋆♡ having a pregnancy scare wasn’t on rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader’s to do list anytime soon.. but alas, here they are waiting to see if two pink lines will change the trajectory of their lives forever.

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of a breeding kink lol, super sweet fluff, slight humor, lots of crying

a/n: this is my not-so-subtle way of introducing babydaddy!rafe to my blog (i’ve been reading a lot of babydaddy!rafe lately.. yum) also just a reminder: pogue!sweetheart!reader is only pregnant in this fic alone. meaning any other works i create with her are not correlated with this one UNLESS stated so <3 you could keep up with this little universe under the second tag of this post: ‘₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader & babydaddy!rafe’

w/c: 1.3k

“a-are you sure you’re late?” rafe was pacing back and forth, tears pricking your eyes as you flipped through your little calendar book. “yes! i look at my calendar everyday rafe, it’s been three weeks!” you sniffled, checking for the millionth time. rafe joined you on your bed, realizing he probably wasn’t making you feel any better if he was freaking out too. “hey..” he cupped your chin, “it’s gonna be okay, baby. what do you need me to do? ‘want me to go get some tests from the store?” you cried even more, the whole thing becoming too real all at once. “i don’t know! i don’t know what to do, ray!”

he sighed, holding you as you wept in his arms. “oh, baby,” rafe rubbed your back, “you know i’m going to take care of us, of you.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. he wiped the tears from your eyes, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i know.. it’s just— this is so new, and even though we don’t have a for sure answer yet, i feel like i really am. you know.. pregnant?” saying it out loud made rafe’s heart drop to his stomach. you saw the way his expression softened, his eyes flickering down to where you two held hands.

while it shouldn’t be too surprising, considering you two never use protection.. it’s still a delicate matter that rafe took very seriously. “am i gonna sound crazy if i say i hope that you are?” you took a breath, stroking the side of rafe’s face. “no. i want it too.” letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he pulled you against his chest, embracing you once again. “why don’t we find out? ‘go to the pharmacy and get some tests?” you nodded, the anticipation already feeling unbearable. “okay.” you pulled away, getting under your knitted blanket.

“you’re not going with me?” rafe laughed. “are you joking? the owner has known me forever. if he see’s us buying a pregnancy test, he’ll—” you lowered your voice down to a whisper, “he’ll know what we’ve been doing..” your cheeks heated at the thought of the sweet old man who’s known you for all of your life checking you out for a test that indicates you’ve been doing a lot more than just baking cookies. “baby, if you didn’t live in the middle of nowhere, and far away from any kind of civilization, everyone on this island would know what we’ve been doing.” he winked.

at his words, you shooed him out of your camper as a giggle escaped your lips. he wasn’t wrong. rafe knew all the ways to make you scream and tremble in pure bliss. it felt like forever since rafe had been out, but one glance at the heart shaped clock on your wall, and it had only been ten minutes. you laid on your back, fingertips skimming your tummy. imagining a baby, half of you, and half of rafe, a result of two worlds, both full of so much love, colliding into one and making the most beautiful creation you were sure to ever see, made a smile grace your pretty face.

now you were thinking about a nursery, wondering if you’d be painting it baby pink or powder blue. either color was fine with you. sitting up, you looked around your camper, really seeing just how small it was. you and rafe barely fit in here together, let alone with a little baby that’ll eventually grow and want to run around. now you felt sad at the indication that you might have to move out of the only place you’ve ever known. this would change your life, but with rafe by your side you felt more ready than ever. just as you were going to call rafe and politely tell him to hurry up, he walked through the door.

“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, so i just grabbed one of each.” rafe gave you the bag, plopping down next to you. there was about ten different tests in there, including a lot of the snacks you’d been craving over the last week. sour gummy bears, chocolate, and spicy chips mostly. taking out a pink box, you read the instructions before looking back at rafe who already had his full attention on you. “can you come with me?” without hesitation, rafe helped you up and guided you to the bathroom. “alright..” he leaned against the doorframe, watching as you unwrapped the test.

“i can’t really pee if you’re looking..” rafe had zoned out, thinking about house hunting already and wondering what kind of car seat would be the safest for a baby. “right, i’m sorry.” he turned around, swallowing the lump in his throat. rafe needed the confirmation just as much as you did, his stomach doing somersaults as he nervously bit his lip. “you okay?” he asked. you hummed, peeing on the stick before setting it down on a piece of toilet paper. washing your hands shortly after, you and rafe left the test in the bathroom as you waited in silence.

“my heart is beating so fast right now.” you laughed, on the verge of tears as rafe rubbed circles into the flesh of your thigh. “i want you to know something..” rafe whispered, “whatever those test results come out to; negative or positive, we’re going to be okay. i don’t want you to worry about a thing, alright?” your chin wobbled as you nodded, your head falling in the curve of his neck. you stayed quiet for the rest of the time, the timer on rafe’s phone going off. “oh, god..” you whimpered, motioning for rafe to grab the test. “don’t look at it, just bring it over!” you called out.

rafe walked back with his eyes closed, nearly bumping into the wall as his hands trembled with excitement. “where are you?” he kept his eyes screwed shut, in which you followed suit. “i’m right here.” you squeaked out, holding onto his wrists. “on three we’re gonna look down.” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “okay, i’m ready.” both of you smiled. “one, two, three—” both of you looked down, rafe jumping and running out of your camper as you stared down at the sight of two, very prominent, pink lines. rafe was shouting outside, the sound making you laugh as you took a seat on the couch.

“oh my god.” rafe poked his head in, your teary eyes meeting his. thankfully, he was able to read the room and calmed down a bit. “oh my god.” he repeated, kneeling down in front of you. “are you okay? are you happy?” rafe rubbed the side of your thighs, his touch providing a comfort like no other. “yes! i just can’t believe it..” you hugged him, his arms wrapping around your waist. “we have a lot of planning to do.” you sniffled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. rafe could already see it. the white house, the white picket fence, both of you were already two steps closer to your dreams becoming a reality.

“yeah, we do,” he agreed, “let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah?” you smiled, cupping his face. “i love you so much, this is crazy.” he kissed your lips before taking the test in his hands again. “a whole baby..” you were in utter disbelief. “maybe i should take the rest of the tests?” you stood up, taking the plastic bag with you to the bathroom. by the time you finished, the sun was already setting, both you and rafe staring at the approximately ten tests in front of you. all positive. “looks like we took the breeding kink a little too seriously, huh?” you looked up at rafe through his reflection in the mirror. “that was a good one.”

[hello-eden]

Never Hidden

Stephanie was bored. 

Bored

Bored

Bored

bored 

bored 

It had been a slow week. 

There was an Arkham breakout three weeks ago and they finally rounded up the last of them. there's always a few stragglers but everyone seemed to be checked off the list.

She wasn't assigned to any new cases and she's grounded from Missions outside of Gotham for bedazzling the Batmobile last month. It's only like another week but it still feels so long. 

She just finished her homework so now honestly she's just looking for something to do. She's honestly just messing with the bat computer until Jason walks in.

"What are you doing here” Jason says pausing after taking his helmet off, looking confused. "I thought you'd be off with Cass” 

“Grounded from outside missions” Stephanie replies turning the computer chair around “When do you get back in town”

“ Not even an hour ago” Jason says as he moves to her "What are you doing there, a case?”

 “Nah” Stephanie says that she turns back to face the back computer “ I don't got any Active cases, I looked at a couple of in Active cases but ehh”

 “So what are you doing” Jason finally reaches her and stops to look 

 “Honestly just playing around with the controls and snooping” Stephanie pulls up a file on the bat computer “Did you know Damien downloaded his Cheese Viking game onto the bat computer”

“Really” Jason laughs out

“Really, see” Stephanie says that she shows Jason the file “OMG this has been on here for 10 months

 “Bruce didn't even let me download stuff he uninstalled Zelda when I tried.”

 Stephanie and Jason continue to chat and work through the files on the back computer or at least the ones they have clearance to access. Eventually they get bored and start Looking through the Security camera

The only person in the house was Tim. He wasn't really doing anything exciting but he was on the phone. They watched him for a minute just checking to see what he would do.

They were about to switch off when he started yelling at whoever was on the phone. Both Stephanie and Jason were startled. They zoomed in and turned on the audio.

“I don't have time for your shit Ras.” Tim basically screamed into his phone. 

Stephanie's a little surprised that Alfred didn't come walking in to check what's going on.

 “you're the one who messed up, so clean up your own messes.” Tim then listens to Ras on the other line speak. "if you learned you know boundaries and actually tried for once then maybe Dan wouldn't be trying to Stage a coup.”

“ Why is Ras talking to Tim about a coup?” Jason asked as he looked over to Stephanie with a raised eyebrow.

 Jason thought he'd been away for a while but not long enough for this to happen.  

“I have no idea.  Every time he talks to me about Ras it sounds like he'd Rejoice if he dropped dead. I didn't even know Tim had his number let alone that they talked.” Stephanie started trying to think of any missions or crises that could have happened for the two of them to talk. 

“ he does not get that from me, the entire want for power thing is entirely your fault.“ Tim pulled out a second phone from the bag beside him and looked to be texting someone else as he was listening to the person on the phone. 

”I'm texting Dan as we speak I'll figure out what's going on that would make your controlling ass happy.” Tim pauses to listen to the other end of the phone.

 “Good.” Tim rolls his eyes and then hangs up the phone. 

“That man does not do anything useful.” Tim seems to say to an empty room probably not expecting to be spied on by two bored vigilanties.

 What the hell was that both Stephanie and Jason thought to themselves.

[foxesscramble]

in honor of the holidays here's some foxes and co going home for the holidays (set sometime in the future)

Somewhere in Wisconsin:

Matt Boyd just won his last game before their winter break officially started.

Dan and Matt make their rounds to say goodbye to everyone as the team dispersed to various cities.

They head out and grab a taxi, making a quick stop by their house to grab their luggage.

They’re headed home for the holidays.

Back to where their family was gathering.

Back to South Carolina.

They were unbelievably excited to see everyone.

They had a secret that they were finally telling the foxes when they got them all together.

Dan cradled her growing belly

Somewhere in Colorado:

Renee compiled a list of care advice for her neighbor who is petsitting for her while she’s in South Carolina.

It’s a hefty list and Renee is once again grateful for her kind, elderly neighbor who had volunteered herself immediately after hearing Renee was going to be traveling.

She made her rounds saying goodbye to all her pets before grabbing her suitcase and keys and heading to the door.

She sent a text to Allison to let her know she was about to hit the road.

Text sent she said one last goodbye at the door before locking up behind her.

South Carolina, here we come.

Somewhere in New York:

Allison carefully packed her clothes into her bag.

Had she possibly packed too much for her two-week trip? Probably, but she hasn’t seen anyone in a while, and she likes to look good.

Allison checked her phone for the time before grabbing her suitcases and putting them by the door.

She did one last walk-through to make sure she didn’t forget anything before turning all her lights off and grabbing her luggage.

She closed the door and locked it before making her way out of her apartment. 

She sent a text to Renee to let her know she was leaving and got in her car.

Somewhere in Germany:

“Nicky, Liebling, if you don’t get your ass down here we’re going to miss our flight!” 

Nicky swears as he collects his bags in a hurry, his feet pounding down the stairs of his and Erik’s apartment.

Germany had done Nicky a lot of good but he was undeniably excited to head back to the States.

Back to his family.

“I’m ready! I swear!” 

Erik laughed and herded him out the door.

They made it through the security check with 15 minutes to get to their boarding area.

They laughed as they ran through the airport, their luggage flipping and bumping into the back of their legs.

They were the last people on the plane, but they made it.

Nicky was going home.

Somewhere in California:

Kevin lugs both suitcases into the trunk of his car before he helps Amalia into the back seat and gets her buckled into her car seat.

They were driving all the way to South Carolina because Amalia had recently become deathly afraid of planes.

Settling in for the two-day drive, they'd barely made it 30 minutes into the trip before Amalia determined it had been a long time and it was time for snacks.

With a deep breath and a silent prayer to all things holy, Kevin pulled into a gas station to get snacks and have a bathroom break.

He knew the drive would be rough but 'Grandpa Coach' and 'Gran Abby', as Amalia had taken to calling her grandparents (maybe Kevin should have stopped calling them by name), would be more than willing to take Amalia when they got home.

Amalia spent the rest of the 36 hour drive rotating between excitably talking about seeing her aunts and uncles, singing the entire Frozen soundtrack at the top of her little 4 year old lungs, and sleeping.

Somewhere between Kansas and South Carolina:

"If you touch the stereo one more time, Josten, you're losing your hand."

Hands held over the console.

Hand kisses.

Smoke breaks.

Lots of snack breaks.

Neil gets fruit cups and Andrew gets candy.

Their cats joined them for the trip.

Sir sits in Neil's lap the entire ride but King gets the zoomies every 30 miles.

Andrew has to repeatedly remove him from his feet so he stops getting close to the pedals.

They call Bee halfway through the drive to make sure she’ll be there when they get there. She and Andrew chat while Neil takes a bathroom break.

When Neil comes back Andrew’s frame has relaxed a bit further. 

They were both excited to see everyone but that didn’t take away the anxiety of having that big of a group together again.

But the foxes were family and they couldn’t wait to see their family.

Somewhere in North Carolina:

"Okay, and you packed the girls' blankets?"

Katelyn and Aaron may resemble headless chickens trying to get their 13 month old twins together and ready.

Katelyn has been tasked with the girls' things and Aaron has been tasked with actually getting the girls in the car.

One of the twins is passed out in their car seat and the other is sobbing and throwing a fit.

Aaron is trying to calm her down and Katelyn is driving.

It took about an hour to get her to stop crying and when she did Aaron took a deep breath and fell back in his seat.

He rested his head back and closed his eyes, letting the quiet sounds of the road soothe him.

That calmness lasts for a good minute before Katelyn lets out a loud, FUCK!

"I forgot our suitcase!"

Somewhere in South Carolina:

Abby fluffs the decorative pillow for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes. 

She’s already vacuumed and swept every room in their house. She’s gotten all the spare bedrooms ready and taken out all of the blowup mattresses. Most of the kids were staying with them with the exception of those that had kids.

They hadn’t all been together in so long and it felt imperative that the house looked good for everyone.

Wymack came up behind her and gently took the pillow from her hands before setting it back on the couch.

“The place looks amazing, Abby.” 

Abby turned around and shot him a doubtful look.

Wymack laughed roughly and leaned forward to place a careful kiss to her forehead. 

“They’re just going to be happy to be here. I don’t think they’d care if it looked like a pigsty in here. Everything is okay, and you know why?” 

Abby leaned her weight against Wymack’s chest. “Why?”

Wymack pulled back slightly so he could send her a fond smile.

“Our kids are coming home."

[solxamber]

I wonder how would everyone in twst deal with shapeshifter!reader that shapeshifts according to the emotions they feel, kinda like penny from amazing world of gumball (mouse for fear, Medusa if they are angry, dragon when furious, etc.)

Shapeshifter! Reader shifts according to emotions

hi! thank you for the request, I'm not familiar with amazing world of gumball so if this is not what you wanted, you can let me know <3

Riddle Rosehearts

At first, he’s baffled by your transformations. When he catches you breaking a rule, and you suddenly shrink into a mouse out of fear, he goes redder than his own dorm’s color scheme. “This isn’t in the rule book!” he shouts, trying to keep a straight face while pointing at your tiny, squeaking form. "Get back here! I wasn’t that scary!"

Ace Trappola:

"This is hilarious!" Ace cackles when you transform into a chicken after a jump scare prank he pulls. "Every time you freak out, I’m gonna get free eggs!" He starts carrying around a list of emotions and their potential animal counterparts just to mess with you. He’s particularly fond of when you turn into something inconvenient at the worst moments.

Deuce Spade:

He panics when you become a snake after he accidentally insults you. "W-Wait, I didn’t mean to offend you! I swear I respect you!" Deuce waves his arms frantically, but the snake version of you doesn’t look impressed. Eventually, he ends up apologizing to a tree you slithered up, hoping for forgiveness.

Cater Diamond:

"Oh my Sevens, this is prime Magicam content!" Cater says, snapping pictures every time you transform. “You’re a walking meme factory!” He probably starts a hashtag dedicated to your transformations: #EmoshiftGoals. No matter the situation, he’s there to document your form, even if you’re a giant octopus stuck in a doorway.

Trey Clover:

Trey is unphased, which only makes it worse. "You’re a dragon, huh? Well, would you still like some pastries?" He offers you a cupcake while you’re snarling as a massive fire-breathing lizard. Somehow, his calm demeanor just makes you feel more ridiculous, and you shapeshift back out of sheer embarrassment.

Leona Kingscholar:

He’s absolutely done with it when you shapeshift into something large and ridiculous, like a lion that rivals him in size. "Seriously? That’s how you deal with anger?" he mutters, throwing an arm over his eyes and turning away. “You’re going to destroy the dorm, herbivore. Quit roaring at me before I kick you out.”

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie sees dollar signs whenever you transform. “Yo, if you turn into a rare animal, I can sell tickets!” He’s already plotting ways to exploit your shapeshifting for his own gain, offering to “protect” you in exchange for some madols. You’re too busy struggling not to turn into a weasel from frustration.

Jack Howl:

He respects your ability, but he’s mildly concerned when you shift into a rhino after a workout, clearly overwhelmed by how sore you are. "Hey, I get the effort, but don’t take down the gym equipment with your horns," Jack warns, not knowing how to help while you smash everything in sight. It’s all part of “getting swole,” right?

Azul Ashengrotto:

He’s actually kind of jealous of your ability. When you transform into something like a Medusa during a heated negotiation, Azul’s glasses slip down his nose. “Let’s keep calm, shall we?” he says nervously, trying to maintain his cool. He starts drafting up a contract for your transformation abilities, hoping to exploit your forms to boost the Monstro Lounge’s appeal.

Jade Leech:

Fascinated. When you shift into a giant squid out of excitement for finding a rare mushroom with him, Jade’s eyes gleam with interest. “How intriguing... I wonder if your emotions could inspire even rarer forms.” He offers you “stimulating” experiences to study your shapeshifting, but he’s just looking for an excuse to see your dragon form again.

Floyd Leech:

He’s your biggest fan. Every time you shift into something, Floyd is there, demanding to “see the big one” — aka your dragon form. “Come on, let me fight ya while you’re a dragon! It’ll be fun!” You’d think being a massive fire-breathing lizard would scare him, but nope. He’s more excited.

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim finds your ability endlessly fun. “Whoa, you’re a parrot now! That’s amazing!” He just claps and laughs every time you transform, not even fazed when you accidentally turn into a giant elephant during a banquet. “This is the best party ever!” He starts planning parties around your emotions just to see what you turn into next.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil’s patience is tested when you shapeshift into an overly dramatic form every time you get slightly annoyed. You turn into a cobra when he criticizes your cooking, and he sighs, rubbing his temples. "I don’t have time to deal with this. Can’t you at least stay human for five minutes?" You hiss in reply.

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil’s irritation reaches an all-time high when he realizes you can shapeshift into ethereal, otherworldly beings, making even him feel average. The moment you turn into an angelic being, radiating beauty, he stares in stunned silence before murmuring, "I’m not envious... but perhaps you could tone it down? You’re stealing the spotlight."

Rook Hunt:

Obsessed. Rook is utterly captivated by your ability and considers it a masterpiece of emotional expression. "Magnifique!" he exclaims every time you transform, sketchbook in hand. He spends hours praising your forms in flowery French, even when you’re just a tiny bunny hiding in a corner from Vil’s glare.

Epel Felmier:

Epel is torn between awe and jealousy when you become a giant bear in a fit of anger. “Dang it, I wanna be that big!” He tries to rile you up just to see your more fearsome forms, hoping to get some tips on how to be more intimidating. When you become a giant stag beetle, he’s both inspired and a little scared.

Idia Shroud:

Idia’s both fascinated and terrified by your shapeshifting. “You’re basically a walking, talking MMORPG character with transformation hacks,” he mutters, eyes wide as you morph into a Cerberus when angry. He pulls out his tablet, muttering, "Okay, let’s not piss them off anymore, or it’s game over for me."

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho, on the other hand, is super excited about your ability. “Brother! They’ve turned into a griffin! How cool is that?” He scans you with his sensors and starts rattling off facts about your transformations like a walking encyclopedia. He keeps asking for data on each shift, even if you’re currently a three-headed dog chewing through a chair.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus is unsurprisingly unfazed. “Ah, you’ve become a dragon,” he muses when you turn into a fearsome beast out of fury. "How... nostalgic." He gives you pointers on how to properly roar and fly, treating your transformation as a normal Tuesday. “Let me know if you’d like some pointers on being a more regal dragon.”

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia finds it hilarious when you shapeshift uncontrollably. "Ah, such youthful vigor!" he says, clapping as you morph into a bat out of anxiety. He starts comparing your forms to his own transformations, occasionally pranking you just to see what you’ll turn into. When you become a spider, he dangles from the ceiling, poking fun at your eight legs.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek yells in disbelief whenever you turn into anything he deems less than “worthy.” “You turned into a sheep? Preposterous! That’s no form for someone in the presence of Lord Malleus!” But when you shift into a dragon, he practically throws himself at your feet. “At last! A proper transformation!”

Silver:

Silver just... naps through most of your transformations. You could be a raging tiger, and he’d probably sleep through it. When he wakes up and finds you in some new form, he just rubs his eyes and says, “Oh, you’re a phoenix now? That’s cool,” before falling asleep again.

Crowley: "This is a rare magical ability!" Crowley says, trying to use your talents to bolster the school's reputation. He wants you to shapeshift during big events, but every time you’re stressed, you turn into a giant tortoise and refuse to move. He’s not thrilled.

Trein: He lectures you on controlling your emotions to prevent transformations, but even he’s secretly amused when you turn into a kitten after falling asleep in his class. He just sighs and lets you nap on the desk.

Crewel: When you shift into a ferocious wolf during an argument, Crewel just nods approvingly. "Good, good. Use that tenacity!" He’s secretly proud of your feral forms but won’t admit it outright.

Vargas: “A shapeshifter, huh?” Vargas immediately makes you part of every athletic event, hoping you’ll turn into something big and fast. When you become a cheetah, he practically cheers. “That’s what I like to see! Speed and power! Keep it up!" He starts using your transformations as a benchmark for the rest of the class, causing you to shift into an armadillo out of sheer stress from his overenthusiasm.

Rollo Flamme:

Rollo: He tries to maintain his usual calm and collected demeanor, but every time you shapeshift into something bizarre like a raven when you’re feeling anxious around him, he gets increasingly frustrated. “This is not an excuse for chaos,” he mutters through gritted teeth. But when you morph into a seraphim in a fit of anger, glowing and majestic, Rollo's attitude shifts to discomfort mixed with awe. “We need... order, not divine intervention.”

Masterlist

[palindrome-mystery]

After the ending of The Sunshine Court Neil is 100% on Jeremy's hate list.

The others don't understand why Captain Sunshine and Smiles who gets along with everyone absolutely hates Neil Josten and will scowl whenever his name is brought up.

Laila and Cat are just like, yeah he's a weird guy but he was on the run for 8 years from his mafioso father who tortured him and tried to kill him. Gonna be a little weird after something like that. But he seemed like a good sport when we played against his team last season.

But to Jeremy, Neil flew in from South Carolina to California with no warning, just texted Jean when he landed in CA that he was in LA and they needed to talk. The timing was already awful because Jean had just been attacked and Jeremy wanted Jean to stay home where he could keep an eye on him but Jean insisted that if Neil was here it was because Neil had no choice and Jean had to go with him. And Neil wouldn't step inside the house, just spoke to Jean in French so Jeremy couldn't understand and then they were off and Jean was gone for like 6 hours.

Jeremy was probably staring out the living room window for Jean to return. And when he finally saw Neil pull up to the house, Jean slammed the car door shut and ran up the stairs. Jeremy had the front door open for him ready to ask what was wrong and if he was okay but Jean was upset and just stormed past him. Jeremy went to him in their room and asked him what he needed and that's when Jean asked him "If I asked you to kill me, would you?"

And Jeremy is scared for Jean and pleads for him to let him help him. They get through the night, with friends and dinner at midnight, and the promise that Jean is not ready to talk about it yet but one day...

From then on Neil Josten is enemy #1 to Jeremy Knox because whatever Neil and Jean did that day made Jean want to die.

Nearly a year later, when Jean and Jeremy are finally dating, Jean has shared some tidbits about how his family was mafia and he had been sold to the Ravens and why he's scared of water and that he had a sister and that the broken trinkets and postcards he won't throw away had been gifts from Kevin who had tried to show him pieces of the world while he was locked in the Nest...

Jean is informed that it's time for him to testify against his family and soon the world will know that his family was mafia. Neil calls to offer to fly down and go with him in support since he had gone through the same thing.

Jeremy is scowling when he realizes Jean is talking to Neil, and when Jean hangs up he asks Jeremy what's wrong. Jeremy reminds him that the last time he spent time with Neil he came home saying he wanted to die.

And Jean is just, 'oh, that,' and proceeds to finally tell Jeremy that Neil found out Jean's family was going to get taken down. Neil came up with a scheme to get Jean FBI protection so he would be safe when his family was burned. He got his crime-boss uncle involved to get the FBI's attention, came up with a fake story of them being old mafia childhood friends, and got Jean protection from the FBI in exchange for his cooperation.

Jeremy is staring back at Jean slack-jawed because that is absolutely bonkers and how did Neil Josten orchestrate that and oh my gosh Neil had been protecting Jean he totally got it wrong and needed to apologize to Neil for the death glares he had been sending his way at the last banquet.

And then Jean adds, 'and he also put a hit on my rapist.'

[natalievoncatte]

Kara had a guilty pleasure, one she didn’t share with anyone. It would have been awkward, and besides, everyone- friends, family, Lena; they all would have mocked her, relentlessly. It was the first of September and Kara was bracing herself for six months of the most exquisite torture.

She wasn’t expecting it on Lena’s desk.

When she walked into the office, the scent hit her. It tickled something in her brain and set her nerves alight, cascading shivers of excitement running down her limbs.

Kryptonians, you see, are not human. They are aliens, and react to things, to stimuli, in ways humans do not. The most obvious implication of this is Kryptonite, or rather the Kryptonite radiation it emits, which is unique to Kara’s lost homeworld and is deadly poisonous to her while being essentially harmless to humans without both significant and prolonged exposure.

There were, however, other things that Kara responded to differently. Certain flavors were too intense; some things her peers found pleasant were overwhelming or inexplicably bitter or otherwise unpalatable. Her enhanced hearing, even without her powers active, made her sensitive to noises that a human wouldn’t even notice. The list went on and on.

One thing in particular, though, was especially… stimulating to her. It got her motor going, as it were. Not like that, of course. Ironically it had the same effect on her that caffeine had on humans, even in small quantities.

There was something in pumpkin spice that excited Kara. Just not like that.

Okay, maybe a little like that. Even the scent of it made her feel things, and there was a steaming hot cup of it on Lena Luthor’s desk.

Kara had been summoned over some editorial matter of little consequence, probably an excuse to chat. When she stepped into her office, Kara stopped dead because Lena reached across her desk and picked up that cup and Kara was already having trouble.

Lena was… Lena. She was dressed in thigh high boots and black jeans and a tight, low cut green sweater that revealed a generous swell of cleavage that immediately drew Kara’s brazen eye. She caught herself looking and quickly put a stop to it, but Lena was looking right at her, smoldering green eyes peering at her over the rim of that damned coffee cup.

Great Rao, Lena was beautiful. Her hair was swept over one shoulder, baring the elegant column of her neck and her sharp jawline. Her visible ear carried multiple piercings dripping with diamonds and there was a faint pink tinge to her pale cheek. The red of her lipstick was almost violent and she positively smoldered. One might have thought she was dolled up for a photo shoot.

Kara was staring at those lips as she took a sip of coffee, leaving a faint white stain on the white cup.

Such a visual feast with the mere scent of the spices in her coffee was enough to weaken Kara’s knees and make her secretly fidget her toes inside her shoes. It was only a quick chat, a five minute conversation, but it was excruciating trying to get through it like this.

“Earth to Kara,” Lena sighed.

Kara blinked. “Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll go?”

“Where am I going?”

Lena rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Kara, you’re benched.”

“Wait, what?”

Lena huffed. “Look, it’s noble, going days without sleep while you live your double life, and we did agree that Supergirl duties will take precedence over your work here… but I can see you’re exhausted. I can’t order you to stop rescuing cats from trees and helping old ladies with their taxes, but I can order you to take the rest of the week off from working here. Which you are. Starting now.”

Actually, Lena probably could order her to stop doing things. Lena could probably order to do anything with the spicy tang in her nostrils and the quivering weakness in her limbs as heat gathered low in her belly. Kara was glad that she had just been ordered out.

“Oh,” Lena said, “and stop at Noonan’s on your way out. I hear the pumpkin spice lattes are your favorite and well,” she gave her cup a little shake.

Kara decided she would not stop at Noonan’s.

She stopped at Noonan’s. She got a PSL and a pumpkin spice bear claw and a dozen pumpkin spice donuts and consumed them all in the span of five minutes once she set foot inside her loft, after which she spent the next thirty in the shower thinking about Lena’s pillowy red lips and how kissable they were and her pale skin and how badly she wanted to mark it as hers and she sort of spent an hour in a pumpkin spice fueled fugue, and then passed out on her bed buck-ass naked.

Which was where she still was when the knock came at the door.

Her head shot up from the bed and she realized that it was movie night and she was hosting. She had no movies picked out, no snacks, and no clothes.

What she did have was super-speed, and this had a spread of frozen snacks ready to go in the oven, and a stack of blu-rays to be voted on, and pants. She needed pants and probably a bra and definitely a shirt. Humans were weird about their torsos. Fortunately Kryptonians were, too. Kara was rather lucky that she hadn’t landed on a planet that considered shirts obscene.

There were at least two like that, which isn’t a lot, but it was more than you’d think.

Kara opened the door and greeted Alex and Kelly, ushering them in. Brainy and Nia were next.

Lena showed up last, dressed in one of her peculiar movie night fits- a stylish leather jacket over honest to god fluffy pajamas, like a fashion plate going to a slumber party. Her hair was down and wavy and she looked soft and inviting and Kara wanted to snuggle her relentlessly and was very glad that the pumpkin spice was largely out of her system.

Largely.

Oh.

Lena lifted the two six packs she was carrying, giving Kara a suggestive arch of her eyebrow. Lena liked to bring gifts when Kara hosted, usually wine. Tonight she had twelve chilled bottles of… pumpkin spice beer.

Kara wanted to scream. Or possibly moan. Or possibly make Lena moan and maybe spank her a little.

Fuck!

“Hi-hi,” said Kara.

“Hi yourself,” said Lena. “Mind if I come in, or do you want to drink these right here?”

“C-come in,” said Kara.

“Eyyyyyy,” said Alex, as she saw the six packs. “The spice must flow!”

“The spice must flow,” Kelly repeated.

“Chai Hulud,” Nia said, in a faux-deep voice.

“I believe it is “Shai Hulud,” said Brainy.

“Sure, honey,” said Nia, patting his knee.

“You gonna hand those out?” said Alex.

“These are for our host,” said Lena. “Kara has plenty of spirits in her fridge.”

Alex busted out laughing, confusing the others.

Kara remained stone-faced.

Movie night then went on as normal. Everyone took seats, the first movie was voted on, snacks were enjoyed and beers were had. The pumpkin bottles sat in their cardboard holders in the fridge, untouched.

Until they got into the second movie, and Lena sauntered over from the kitchen carrying two bottles, and thrust one into Kara’s hands as she wedged herself in between Kara and Nia, casually tossing her legs over Kara’s lap.

Kara steadfastly did not look. She would not look. She would not look. Surely Lena was just making herself comfortable and private hadn’t noticed that the top couple of buttons on her pajama top had popped themselves and she was showing quite a generous amount of…

Kara looked away sharply. She had looked.

“Do the thing, darling,” said Lena.

“Do the thing! Do the thing! Do they thing!” Nia began to chant.

Sighing, Kara took her bottle and Lena’s, and popped the caps loose with a flock of her thumbs. Lena squealed in delight and Kara realized that actually drinking this concoction was an amazingly terrible idea.

Especially since Lena was basically in her lap now.

Kara tried not to drink, but the hint of that spicy scent from the beer was enough to make every nerve ending tingle and start a fire in her belly. She took a long pull on it and quickly realized she’d drained the bottle in one go.

Lena, grinning, stood up. Kara watched every sway of her hips as she marched to the kitchen, bent to grab another bottle from the bottom shelf of the fridge, and sashayed back to shamelessly plop right in Kara’s lap and offer her the new bottle.

The little display has gotten at least Alex’s attention, and she looked somehow at once horrified and amused and whispered to Kelly, who snorted.

Nia picked up on it next, after Kara had downed her fourth one of the cured pumpkin brews and her brain was sloshing around in sweet cinnamony goodness.

She was running into a considerable problem. Lena was curled up in her lap, draped across her in fact, a soft weight that was driving her absolute insane even as the scent of Lena’s… of Lena mingled with the spices singing in her veins. She forgot the movie. She forgot the existence of everything but Lena, and barely noticed when Alex announced,

“Guys, it’s late. I think we better head out so that Kara and Lena can clean up.”

“Perhaps we should help,” Brainy suggested.

“Nah, let’s go,” said Nia, who then muttered, “seriously Querl we need to go.”

Kara blinked and watched them all pile out, Alex shooting Lena a knowing look before rolling her eyes and closing the door.

Two seconds after the door closed, Lena twisted languidly in Kara’s lap, and was now no longer sitting in her lap but straddling her.

Kryptonians, you see, are not human. They are aliens, and react to things, to stimuli, in ways humans do not. They also have anatomical structures that humans do not, something that was was currently causing Kara to blush furiously, because Lena was well… sitting on it.

“I can explain,” Kara squeaked.

The look Lena gave her would have been devastating, pumpkin spice or no pumpkin spice. Lena’s face filled her vision as Lena placed her hands on Kara’s sides and rolled her hips, dragging a groan out of her.

“Is that explanation going to include a hands on demonstration?” said Lena. “I may need a few rounds before I fully understand.”

Kara swallowed hard. “You mean… you w-want to…”

“Kara,” Lena sighed. “How is someone who’s been flirting with me for five years so bad at flirting?”

Kara stared at her.

“Just, um, to clarify, you’re flirting with me, right?”

“I’m sitting in your lap unbuttoning my top, darling. I believe that qualifies.”

“You’re what?”

Lena grinned and swept her fingers down her chest, popping the rest of the buttons in sequence. The pajama top suddenly hung lose, baring the lush inner curves of her breasts while obscuring the rest of her in an agonizing promise.

Kara, finally, after years of this, took the hint and had Lena relieved of her fuzzy pajamas by the time they hit the bed.

The next morning, or rather next afternoon when Lena woke up, Kara looked over at her. Her eyes had just opened and she was grinning ear to ear.

“Lena?” said Kara.

“Yes? Before we go again I’m going to need a protein shake and some supplements.”

Kara felt her ears burning as her cheeks heated.

“Did you know about the pumpkin spice thing?”

“Pumpkin spice thing?” said Lena.

“Alex told you, right?”

Lena pursed her lips.

“Nope.”

“Cat Grant?”

“No, although I did ask her and she said you, and I quote, ‘creamed your khakis’ in front of her one time.”

“Then who?”

Lena grinned.

“I went to Clark to ask him the right way to go about seeking your attentions. Lois overheard and pulled me aside. Apparently you two share the same weaknesses.”

“My only weakness is you, baby.”

“Oh, it’s baby now, is it?”

“Yup,” said Kara.

[the-maddened-hatter]

Alright so I pretty much said all of this verbatim on a reblog of someone else's post, but I wanted to put it here on my blog too.

As I've mentioned before, I would *very* much like to see Peri canonically having a disability that causes him to use his wand/cane and not just have it be an accessory, and so I analyzed the episodes he's in that I've been able to see so far and came up with a few observations:

As much as I'd be unopposed to seeing it portrayed, leg issues don't really seem like a major deal to fairies in general given as Cosmo misplaced his for most of an episode and a pair of sticks were a good enough replacement for him to have fun at the arcade in human form (without even drawing human attention)

And Peri can apparently use his powers as listed above without his cane since he doesn't always immediately have it on his person (especially since Dev & Hazel took his cane in Lost in Fairy World and he didn't have any power or mobility problems)

But!

I *could* easily see him having some kind of magical fatigue issue or magical equivalent of hypotonia or balance disorder, since he's shown to be

very tired after a morning spent magically creating cupcakes (a probably small but very repetitive task that leaves him running low on energy)

When his stationary float is disrupted he remains seated instead of floating back up again

3. A minor contact/startle reflex is enough to disrupt his hover and cause him to immediately fall pretty hard if not very far

4. speaking of distance, he is shown to sometimes float a bit lower than his parents, which, while not consistent and likely just an animation choice, could tie in with the other points to support the diagnosis theory

However, pain may admittedly be more of a factor than the above images suggest,

he may not just be tired from shape shifting like I'd thought since right before that he was walking (albeit in horse form) and afterwards (low) cloud float is apparently easier and faster for him than just quickly trotting past his parents

He also didn't really seem to be having too much of a problem at all before he hit the ground

Where it goes to a definitely tired and possibly more pained look.

Maybe he didn't want to tell Dev that it was painful either out of pride or because he didn't want to potentially upset him and just went with "tired" because that was what he assumed. It'd be interesting to see if it happens again in a different form.

Personally I think it'd be cool to see both and have it be a chronic condition (directly magical or otherwise) that he already had before the series began (diagnosed or not).

If he's the first fairy kid born in a long time he probably would have been monitored very closely, but it may have taken a while for doctors to notice a problem since there was little reference for comparison and may have even caused some potentially serious problems that gave Comso & Wanda a bad scare, which could tie in pretty well with their developing a high amount of over protectiveness of him, and that in turn leading him to try and behave too far in the other direction (not seeking help when he really does need it, pushing himself way too hard and suffering the fallout which he then tries to hide, ect)

If he's undiagnosed but having the problems it could be interesting to see sort of an inversion of the "character must learn to accept their disability" storyline wherein he's more connecting certain events & symptoms and we get to see him adapting to accommodations and letting himself try different approaches moreso than to having new symptoms (though we as the audience may see these symptoms more or behaviors contextualized as symptoms where they weren't necessarily before).

Idk either way I just think it would be cool (and I've probably put away more analysis into this than will ever pay off lol)

also to everyone who draws him as a disabled mobility device user: ILY please draw more of it it feeds my soul

[grandline-fics]

Can I ask for some luffy x femreader angst where they get knocked off the sunny and can't swim? Your writing is so good

DESCRIPTION: You get knocked off of the ship

WARNINGS: angst, comfort, good ending

CHARACTERS: Luffy

WORDS: 1,322

A/N: Who can say no to some angst? Thank you for this request. I hadn't intended it to be this long but I'm happy with the result and hope you are too.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

Nothing is ever straightforward or as it truly seems on the Grand Line, anyone who goes there with that belief are swiftly taught the harsh lessons. If they are strong and adaptable enough then they get another day on the waters. If they aren’t? Then they either join the many ships and skeletons that are scattered beneath the waves or allowed to return to safer seas with their tails between their legs and dreams of adventures and fame broken along with their pride. As much as the Strawhats, and more-so their Captain are impulsive and quick to race headlong into their adventures, they respect the seas under Nami’s strict guidance. “It’s looking clear now but once we cross the boundary of the next island’s atmosphere it’ll most likely change.”

You all nodded at her warning, Nami was never wrong with these things. So when she made a statement like that you knew knew to make the most of the clear skies, bright sun, and calm sea now while you all could. As soon as you approached the boundary you would all be on guard until you knew for certain what the next island would bring you all. You stretched out from your spot on your deckchair and slowly sat up with a slow yawn building in your chest. You could have stayed lounging for a while longer but knew you were dangerously close to falling asleep, something you wanted to avoid just in case the next stretch of the journey required all hands on deck. Needing to stay alert you began to walk around in search of something to occupy you. 

There was no motivation to train in you just at the moment and it was too nice of a day to wander to the kitchen or go below deck to the library or bar. As you casually scanned the ship your gaze zeroed in on Luffy as he perched happily on Sunny’s head, his legs swinging lightly as his body all but vibrated with excitement. Nami’s mention of crossing the island’s boundary soon meant it would only be a matter of time before the island came into view and the next part of everyone’s adventure would continue. You couldn’t help but smile at Luffy’s infectious enthusiasm. “You bounce anymore you could fall into the ocean, Captain.” 

Luffy laughed at your teasing voice and turned to grin brightly at you. Almost immediately he moved his seat to allow you the room to sit comfortably on the lion’s head with him. When you joined him, Luffy’s smile grew wider. Together you both talked happily about what you thought the next island would bring, guessing what there was to explore and see. You only broke the conversation when you felt that the sun had gotten a little dimmer than it had been and felt the ship lightly sway. Had the water gotten choppier? “We should probably head onto the deck. I think we’re nearly in the new territory.” You began as you slowly got to your feet again. The Sunny jolted as it hit a rougher swell of a wave and you swayed but managed to regain your balance. “The water’s changing fast, c’mon Luffy.”

Luffy nodded and reluctantly bounced to his feet. Ordinarily he would have just remained on Sunny’s head until the end but with you here, it made him just cautious enough to prioritise your safety over his lack of thought for his own. Luffy stepped behind you and planted a hand on your shoulder when another rocky wave surged the ship only this one was accompanied with a strong gust of wind. As expected Nami launched into action, calling for everyone to get to their positions as the storm rolled in seemingly from nowhere. “Luffy! We need you to-”

Usopp’s shout was swallowed by a shriek of wind but the beginning of his call was enough to snap Luffy’s attention for the briefest of seconds. At the same time an enormous wave slammed against the starboard side of the ship, showering seawater over you all and with enough force to tilt and rock the ship upwards and sideways at once. With Luffy distracted and the violent lurching of the Sunny, the two of you tumbled. Acting only on instinct you managed to grab a hold of Luffy’s collar and throw him onto the safety of the deck. However you were unable to save yourself and fell backwards into the darkening, swirling waters. 

Luffy scrambled to his feet, yelling out your name as he leant over the railing of the Sunny, eyes desperately searching the violent waves in search for you.You weren’t the strongest swimmer in the crew but even the likes of Sanji would have struggled to break through the surface in water like this. Sharply he turned to his crew who only just realised what had happened. “Jinbe! Save them!” His order was sharp and held none of his usual cheer. The helmsman wasted no time in leaping into the water while Luffy returned his panicked gaze to the water. “Come on…”

The seconds were an agonising wait, drawing out to the point it felt like an eternity. He didn't even know he’d been painfully holding his breath until Jinbe’s figure broke through the water and landed back onto the deck with you held securely in his arms. Chopper reached you first and took you into his care swiftly. When you let out a choking breath and rolled onto your side, Luffy was on you in an instant, hugging you tight and lifting you off the ground. Even when Chopper yelled at him to be gentle and let you go, Luffy only loosened his hold but still kept you in his grip; his eyes were steely and fixed only on you. 

“Luffy…I’m okay. Promise.” You spoke weakly and your hand reached out to touch his cheek, hating to see him so serious. Quickly you pulled your hand back when he flinched at the touch, fearing you’d overstepped with the usually affectionate Captain. It wasn’t your touch that Luffy took issue with, it was that your skin was so cold. Quickly he pulled you to your room and nudged you inside, only now letting your go fully. “You need to change.”

To hear Luffy so insistent and serious was something you weren’t used to but you could see the worry in his face and while you couldn’t speak you nodded and grabbed fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom to dry off and change. When you reappeared you paused to see Luffy pacing, a literal ball of nervous energy and biting the inside of his mouth harshly. This wasn’t the Luffy you knew and you could tell his thoughts were spiralling with memories he never liked to dwell on. With a small sigh you set your hand on his arm and pulled him to sit comfortably on your bed before settling down beside him, facing him fully. “Luffy, I’m safe. This isn’t like you.”

“You’re still cold…” Luffy mumbled, his eyes glancing down at your hand on his arm. He hated this feeling that was twisting in his body uncomfortably. Even worse he hated seeing you worry about him. With a frown he grabbed the blanket from your bed and wrapped it around your body tightly before pulling you close, his hands rubbing against your arm and back. Part of him told him it was just to get you warmed up. Another part of him felt it was for his unshakable selfishness of reassuring himself that you’re only safe with him. Then when you sank further into his hold and closed your eyes, Luffy felt himself finally begin to relax. Nothing was ever straightforward on the Grand Line, for one thing it could make a nasty way of making people have a closer look at their feelings whether they had been initially aware of it or not.

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld

[alchemistc]

i like your voice in person

Evan's staring at the bed like he's trying to navigate a minefield.

Six months ago that would have sent Tommy on another journey of self-deprecation, a reminder that he'd known Evan wasn't ready for this, known this was a possibility, but Evan, for all his own insecurities, knows what the hell he wants and if he'd felt even an ounce of pressure or remorse up to this point he'd have said something long before now.

Sometimes Evan likes to work it out himself, and sometimes he needs a little nudge, and Tommy watches the head tilt and the angle of his pursed lips for cues as he settles under the sheets.

"Something on your mind?" he prompts, and Evan blinks, like he hadn't realized he'd gotten lost in his thoughts.

"Uh...nothing, maybe."

"Sounds like something, probably."

Evan's smile tilts up at one corner, and he settles on the bed a little stiffly. "It's nothing major. Just. Something I've been thinking about?"

He can feel his brows jumping, can see the way Evan takes in the look with a fond expression. Evan steels himself for something -- they're still muddling through past experiences and learning how to be a bit more intentional in some of their conversations, because they both have a bad habit of reverting to flirting and deflection.

"You remember what we talked about last weekend?"

Tommy can genuinely remember about 93 percent of what he and Evan talk about at any given time, which is an astronomically high number and not at all an exaggeration. He'd be embarrassed about it if he didn't have clear evidence that Evan was as deep into this as he was.

They talk a lot, is the thing, about inconsequential shit just as much (definitely more) than the important stuff. They talk far more than Tommy can remember talking in any other relationship he's been in. But Tommy can pinpoint the exact one he means.

"You mean the roles thing."

Evan hadn't been a stranger to a little daddy talk in bed when they started to explore it, and he'd brought it up right at the start for a reason, but Tommy had taken a while to come around to the realization that Evan had sort of internalized the 'I don't have daddy issues' of it all in a way that Tommy hadn't actually meant it. There'd been little things, here and there; like Evan reaching a door before him and then bashfully waiting with it half open like he'd made a misstep; like twisting his mouth a little funny when he snatched the bill from the table before Tommy could get it. Little things.

Things that, in the abstract, yeah, Tommy liked to do for his partners, but in reality weren't actually that big a deal to him.

He'd needed to clear the air.

Evan nods. Curls a hand around his knee before he shifts his body so that he's facing Tommy. "So, I like taking care of people."

(A conversation, a month ago, Evan grimacing around "My therapist says I have to stop calling myself a people pleaser in a derogatory way.")

Tommy hums, something to remind Evan he's listening.

"And I guess I sort of built up this idea in my head that that was like, a hard stop with you."

("Everyone likes being taken care of sometimes, Evan.")

"And I'm not -- I'm not upset at you, or like, feeling guilty, I just -- I've been thinking about it, and I feel like I forgot to ask you how you wanted to be taken care of."

The thing with Evan is that no matter how often he'll deflect with a joke, when he wants to say something serious he's blunt as hell about it. There might be some hemming and hawing to get there but sometimes he says things that just make Tommy wonder if he'd ever actually learned how to say things before Evan.

"I don't really have a list, babe," he says, and then sort of hates himself for it. Deflect, distract, hey baby how about I blow you about all these big feelings inside my chest I can't articulate.

Evan, though, Evan squinches his eyes and runs a heavy hand through his hair. "I...sort of do?"

"Lay it on me."

Evan grins. "That's actually one of the things on my list."

Tommy blinks. Tries to figure out that trail of thought, but he's coming up with nothing. "Okay, can you expand on that?"

"Like --listen, you know I'm a huge fan of being the little spoon. I'd let someone put screws back in my leg just for continued little spoon privileges. But sometimes I miss being the big spoon, and in my head the idea sounded so stupid to bring up but now I'm wondering if, like, maybe I've just been denying you the joy of being the little spoon?"

Tommy thinks of Evan's hands spread big and warm across his belly, of knees tucked up behind his, warm breath on the back of his neck like when Evan stumbles up behind him in the mornings whining about coffee, and maybe he blue screens a bit because he's never actually dated someone so close to his own size, because there's always been an assumption at the outset that he wouldn't want that.

Alex had been a little too into the same dynamic he'd seen Evan stumbling through, and Colin had hated sleeping with someone's flesh touching his own. Beyond that he hadn't really dated anyone long enough to really form a preference.

Maybe Kara might have been willing, back when he'd been closeted enough to pretend it wasn't an effort to get it up when she had his dick in her mouth, but they'd been young enough that staying the night wasn't really a consideration.

"And like -- listen, I don't necessarily prescribe to gender roles as a thing in general, but a few weekends ago I spent like twenty minutes staring at a bouquet of flowers in Trader Joe's and convinced myself you wouldn't like the gesture so I didn't buy them but you have a few vases in your moms old china cabinet and the moment I remembered them I felt stupid for not buying the flowers."

There's something curling tenderly underneath Tommy's ribcage that he's not sure he's ever felt quite like this before. It's not new, exactly, but it seems to be thrumming particularly hard tonight.

Three months in, Tommy had gotten the man-flu from hell, temperatures so high he'd been grounded and sent packing to rest it off, and he'd texted Evan a jumbled mess of barely discernible things when they'd tucked him into the Uber.

Evan and Bobby had made chicken noodle soup at the station and Hen had sent Evan off with a laundry list of things he could do to help drop the fever, and Tommy had spent the duration sulking and glowering and dragging himself out of bed every time Evan had wanted to change the sheets, to keep Tommy as comfortable as he could, but when Evan had caught it four days later he hadn't hesitated to do all the same shit with gusto. Evan hadn't been particularly grateful either, because neither one of them liked being laid up when the world was out there waiting for them, but he'd at least had the grace to not be an asshole about it.

He had, though. Been grateful. A little awestruck, too, at the mere idea of someone so unafraid of just being there through all the moaning and groaning and hacking and coughing, keeping the tissues from piling up on the bedside table and switching out cold packs to the freezer so he always had one ready in case he wanted it. In the clarity of a full day without fever making his brain feel like cotton candy he'd stared down at a sleepily wheezing Evan and known he could absolutely lose his heart to this man.

"Also I don't want to toot my own horn here but I give excellent foot rubs, and I feel like there's about a million other things I've just been -- holding back from doing?"

"Because of the role thing, or because all your stupid exes told you you were needy?"

It's not a night to pull punches. Also Tommy wants to send thank you cards to every single one of them and attach them to boxes with a bark scorpion inside.

"Both," Evan says without a second of hesitation. His smile crinkles at the corners of his mouth, and Tommy is suddenly annoyed with the space between them. When he holds out his hand to tug Evan into him, Evan melts into it for the space of a moment before he pulls back. "I actually kind of desperately want to be the big spoon right now, if that's something you'd be into." Evan had definitely clocked the look on his face when he'd mentioned it, but he's keyed into the way Tommy checks in and reciprocated in kind since the start of this, so.

Tommy peels his glasses off, snags his bookmark to keep his spot in the monstrosity of the Wrangler maintenance manual he'd stopped being cagey about the fifth time Evan caught him flipping through it, and watches Evan settle comfortably into bed next to him. The problem is, Tommy actually isn't sure where to go from there, which is a ridiculous thought to have because Evan hadn't either and he'd figured it out just fine.

"How do you want me, Buckley?"

The roll of his eyes is so bitchy that Tommy has to remind himself that for all his people pleasing attributes, Evan Buckley is, at heart, a huge fucking brat. Evan tugs and twists and maneuvers his arms and Tommy sort of sinks into it, head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, draping his leg over one of Evan's when he shifts his knee pointedly, a massive, unruly breath escaping Tommy once they're all done shifting.

"You should absolutely try out the rest of your list," he murmurs into the space where Evan's shoulder meets his neck. "Although you don't need to woo me anymore, I'm actually fully wooed."

Lips against his crown, pressed tightly enough that he can feel the smile against his scalp, Evan chuckles. "You don't know how good my wooing is."

The fingers shifting up and down his arm feel somehow different, from this position, even though Evan has done it a hundred times before from the spot he likes to claim with his head right over Tommy's bleeding, three-sizes-too-big-for-him heart. It's ridiculous, and it shouldn't feel any different, but it does. He wants to be greedy with it, soak it in and then never let Evan do this again because he finally understands the appeal and he doesn't want to deprive Evan that.

"This is nicer than I expected."

Evan's soft laugh ruffles his hair, and Tommy wonders if he's dumb enough to ask Eddie how long he should wait before he can reasonably beg Evan to spend the rest of his life with him.

"Save the reviews for when I actually spoon you. It's gonna rock your world." His hand drifts up, fingers digging into the dimple of Tommy's skull.

The hum in his throat has a mind of it's own, going thin and reedy and --

Evan pauses, and Tommy can practically see the gears whirring in his mind, because this is new information.

To both of them, actually, but Tommy doesn't have time to process it because the fingers on the back of his skull spread and sink deeper, just enough pressure to be more than a glancing ruffle, and Tommy can't quite help the way he tilts his head back into it, or the way he hitches his leg to press his groin a little more firmly to the outside of Evan's thigh.

They're both too tired for it to really mean anything -- both off 48's and a fumbled round in the shower while they were already bone weary -- but Tommy wants the reminder for them both when they wake up in the morning.

He can feel his eyes drooping the longer Evan scrubs his fingers against him, and the thought pops into his head as he's drifting off. He doesn't want it to disappear into the fog, though, so he murmurs it into the soft, warm skin of Evan's neck. "I like camellia's. White ones."

Evan hums, and Tommy just knows that the moment he drops off, Evan will be reaching for his phone to google the language of flowers.

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the bite

“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at.  “It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.” “And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.

Summary: steve and robin are your nightmare blunt rotation, you manage to escape a russian lair: mario cart style, you learn that therapy sessions are fun in public bathrooms, steve places your brother on the russian fbi most wanted list, el probably just killed a bunch of people (deserved), and reunions with jonathan are always special when one of you is gravely injured

Rating: general, cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, graphic depictions of blood and gore, cursing

Words: 10.1k

Before you swing in: HI IM ALIVE !!! my laptop isnt ,,,, but im trying to ignore that. sincerely apologize for the wait. my laptop shits down randomly every ten minutes and my new one is backordered so ive been fighting demons to write this. i also had a hard time with the bathroom scene with robin. i wanted to get that scene just right. it took a lot of rewriting, but i think im happy with how it ended up <3 pls enjoy this child of mine. she cost me blood, sweat, and tears lmao

-

“Boop!” Steve’s finger pokes your nose and he lets out a delirious giggle. “I booped you!”

At first it was adorable, endearing even, when he booped your nose. However, he’s done this five times now in the last minute alone. That, and you’ve been trying to give Dustin directions back to the elevator while dodging Steve’s surprisingly aggressive nose boops. All while the threat of armed Russians running after the cart looms over you. “Turn left here–would you stop it?”

“Wanna boop that pretty little nose,” Steve’s glossy eyes struggle to find yours, his motor skills delayed and concerning. His left eye has all but swollen shut and you’re still not sure if his unusual behavior is due to head trauma or something else. “C’mere, angel.”

He tries to boop you again, and before you can dodge the attack, Robin’s hand grabs his finger and she lets out a pathetic scoff. “You’re hogging the boops, dingus!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yeah huh!”

Steve’s arm reaches over you and he bats at Robin. They start to hit one another, though their movements are slow and weak. They giggle as they fight, and you’re stuck in the middle of it. You try to push them off of you, but the two teens are too busy pinching each other and cackling to pay you any attention. It’s miserable. 

Erica, from the passenger seat of the cart, turns and winces at your predicament. “What is wrong with them?”

“I don’t know!” Dustin keeps his eyes in front of him as he drives, though he’s equally as confused and unnerved. Secretly, he’s glad he’s the one driving. Otherwise he’d be in the middle of a Steve and Robin giggle sandwich like you are.

“Whose hand is that?” You twist around. There’s a foreign body part that’s currently resting on your ass. Steve snickers and Robin puffs out her cheeks and giggles, neither one of them confessing. You’re about to start kicking shins when the cart comes to a screeching halt. The force of it throws you and the two teens back with a painful thud. “Christ!”

“You guys alright back there?” 

Somehow you wind up with Steve’s elbow in your ribcage and Robin’s head smacking into yours. Hissing in pain, you throw the two off of you and glare at your brother. You seriously fear the day he gets his license. “I want to die.”

Dustin turns back around in his seat and gulps. Steve’s and Robin’s own groans of pain can be heard from behind him. “They’re fine.”

Sneakers squeak against the tile floor and the doors to the back of the cart fly open. You’re greeted with Erica and Dustin, eyes wide as they take in the scene before them. You’re squished underneath the teens. You try shoving them off of you again, but they’re dead weight on you. 

“Wanna kiss again, Y/N? I really liked it,” Steve smacks his lips as his head rests against your stomach. “Wanted to do that for so long.”

Your cheeks burn at his words and your stomach flutters. You haven’t forgotten about the kiss earlier. God, you haven’t. It leaves you breathless every time you remember how it felt to have him so close, to smell him and taste him. A part of you wants to ask how long he’s thought about kissing you, but you know that the back of a cart while fleeing from Russians isn’t the most appropriate setting. 

Robin squirms next to you, her head also somehow on your stomach, pinning you down. “Can I get a kiss too?”

“If either one of you kisses me right now, my knives will be the last things you see.” The two teens make despaired noises, which you groan at. Meanwhile, Dustin and Erica continue to stand at the end of the cart, unmoving. You clench your teeth. “A little help here?” 

Dustin mumbles a sheepish apology and yanks Steve’s arm while Erica yanks at Robin, freeing you. As soon as you’re able to, you jump out of the cart and start clapping your hands to speed everyone along. “We gotta go!”

“We’re trying, Y/N!” Erica groans, struggling to get Robin up from the ground. 

You start to help, though you nearly fall when Dustin throws Steve against you. A complaint lingers on your lips, but when you see that your brother is now at the elevator doors with a keycard in his hand, you swallow it down.

Steve, however, is full of complaints. “This sucks.”

You blow hair out of your face and don’t bother responding to him. Instead, you watch anxiously as your brother swipes the key card he must’ve stolen earlier. When the scanner’s light flashes green and opens the elevator door, you exhale with relief. At least something has gone right today. 

After practically throwing Steve and Robin into the elevator with Erica’s help, Dustin hits a button and closes the door. As soon as it shuts, the room starts to move. You brace yourself, now familiar with how fast the damn thing can go.

The elevator ascends at a nauseating speed and there’s a crash behind you. Turning around, you find Robin holding a dolly in place as Steve gets on. He holds his hands out and starts to cheer as his friend snickers. They look like goddamn toddlers at daycare.

“Hey, no!” You feel like a parent, yanking at Steve’s arm to get him down from the dangerous position. The elevator is moving too fast to be messing around on. “This isn’t playtime–”

“He looks like he’s surfing, Y/N!” Robin squeals with excitement, rolling the dolly to the left.

Steve’s body twists and he steadies himself with a laugh. “I’m surfing!”

“Stop fucking surfing!”

You fight with the teens. Steve refuses to get down and Robin keeps rolling the dolly away from you. As you yell at them, Dustin and Erica exchange concerned looks. You overhear the girl mention how they seem drunk, and you’re about to tell her that she might be right, when Robin pulls the dolly from underneath Steve and sends him crashing into the ground. 

“Wipeout!”

You’re checking Steve for injuries as soon as he lands. Dustin kneels next to you and feels his forehead and winces. “He’s burning up.” 

Not liking the sound of that, you check Steve’s pupils. The room’s lighting is dim, but it’s obvious that his brown eyes are almost entirely taken over by the blacks of his pupils. “Holy shit, they’re scarily dilated.” 

“Ow. Thought you liked my eyes,” Steve swats at your hands sadly. He whines, trying to get you to let go of him. “Said you liked brown.”

“I do like brown, but I also like when you don’t act like a three year old.” You soothe him before turning to Dustin. “Any idea what it could mean?”

“Maybe he’s drugged?” Erica suggests.

You frown. “Could explain why he keeps trying to–” Steve reaches up and boops Dustin’s nose. He giggles and your brother looks annoyed. Sighing, you finish what you had been trying to say. “Boop people. Why he keeps trying to boop people.”

“Your turn, angel!”

Dustin intercepts Steve’s finger, which you’re grateful for. He gently smacks the teen’s face to get his attention. “Steve, are you drugged?”

“How many times, dad?” His voice drips with sarcasm and he rolls his eyes. “I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.”

“Since when do you smoke?” 

“Y/N, focus.” Dustin dodges another incoming boop and swats Steve’s hand away. “This isn’t funny, okay? We need to know what they did to you.”

“C’mon, honey.” Your fingers run through Steve’s hair. Parts of it have dried blood. Something more than a beating happened to him and Robin, you just don’t know what. If they’re really drugged, you have no way of knowing if they’ll be okay, and a part of you is terrified. “Work with us, please. What did they give you?”

“Are you gonna die on us?” Dustin asks, concerned as well.

“I’ll tell you!” Robin shouts from the corner she’s slouched in, eager to please you. She twirls her hair around her finger and gives you an unsettling smile. “We all die, my strange little child friend. It’s just a matter of how… and when.”

Neither you nor Dustin say anything for a few moments. Both of you blink, trying to process what exactly the teen has just said. Afraid to look away from her in case she tries to possess you or something, you slowly nod. “Okay, thank you for sharing, Robin.”

She flashes you a thumbs up and proudly smiles. “Happy to help!” 

“They’re gonna be looking for us up there,” your brother redirects the attention back to the fact that you’re all still very much in danger. He starts to interrogate Steve, trying to come up with a plan. “So I need you to tell me where you parked your car.”

“Oh, can we make a pit stop at the food court?” Steve’s eyes glaze over and you know you’ve lost him again. 

Robin leans forward and starts playing with your hair. “I would kill for a hot dog on a stick!”

You snap your fingers at the two of them. They’re impossible to level with, you’re not even sure why you’re still trying. “Guys, we need to focus.”

“No! No hot dog on a stick,” Steve suddenly lifts himself up and glares at Robin. “The guy at the counter said that Y/N she has pretty eyes. He’s an asshole.”

“You mean Dave? When the hell did he say that?”

Steve scoffs at you. “Last week. Ruined my whole day.”

“Fine! We’ll get you and Robin something else to eat.” Dustin says, which Robin cheers at, though he ignores her. “But only if you tell me where your car is parked.”

Suddenly Steve’s hazy eyes fill with remorse. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh? I don’t like uh-oh, can we not uh-oh?” Dustin nudges you with his shoulder to shut you up and let Steve explain. You mumble an apology. “Okay, why the uh-oh?”

“They took the keys.” Steve shoves his hands into his pockets and reveals that there’s nothing in them. “The Russians, they took the keys. Like forever ago.” For some reason this is hilarious to Robin, who starts to laugh hysterically in the corner. He joins her, amused by the whole thing. “That’s a bummer, right?”

You drop your head in your hands as Dustin sighs. With no keys and no way out of the mall, you’re not sure what else you can do. The only other option would be the bus that takes commuters home, but it comes every few hours and you have no idea what time it even is right now. 

Which means you’d be left with having to hide a very drugged up Steve and Robin in a giant mall swarming with Russian undercover guards for an unforeseen amount of time.

Not ideal. 

“We’re doomed.” You sigh into your hands.

Dustin nods beside you. “Yeah. We’re doomed.”

– 

When the five of you finally reach the mall, you guide everyone through the back hallway and fling the doors open. Fresh air hits your face and you take a moment to inhale. It’s only then that you notice that it’s dark outside. The air is warm, crickets chirp faintly from far away. What day is it? How long could you have possibly been down in the lair? 

As you have a minor breakdown trying to get your bearings, Steve and Robin walk behind you. Their mouths are wide open as they greet the fresh air with glee. “Oh my God, that tastes so good! Steve, can you taste the air?”

They stick their tongues out and marvel at the world around them. “I taste it!”

You watch them with your arms crossed. If you had any suspicion before that they were drugged, seeing them try to eat the air only confirms it. 

“Shit!” Dustin screams out of nowhere and grabs your hand. He tugs at you to start running. You look up and see two Russians men now running straight towards you. 

“Come on!” You grab Erica’s hand and shove her in front of you to run alongside your brother. Then you grab Steve and Robin by their shoulders and all but throw them against the mall’s door. “Go!”

“Why are we running?” Steve mopes, tired from all the physical activity he’s been forced to endure these last few minutes. 

You don’t bother answering him and instead shove him inside the second Dustin gets the mall’s doors opened. Everyone runs, though you’re not sure if anyone has an actual plan. The guard’s footsteps can be heard behind you, and all you know is that you guys need to hide until you can figure something else out. 

“Any chance you guys know any hiding spots?” You shout behind you to the kids, nearly tripping over your feet as you do so.

“No, this mall is one giant public swamp.” Dustin responds, huffing. 

Steve stumbles next to you, still obviously drugged up, yet giggling as always. “It feels like we’re running from movie villains!” 

Turning a corner, what Steve has said floats through your mind. Running from movie villains… What are the odds the Russians know about American movie theaters? They’re dark and usually crowded with people for night showings. It could be the only safe place to hide. 

“Dustin, start heading towards the theater!” Erica and your brother start asking you questions, but you don’t have time to explain. “Just trust me.”

Somehow you all make it to the theater’s doors without being detected. Poking your head through, you make sure there isn’t anyone nearby. When you’re sure it’s safe, you open the door wider and motion for everyone to follow. “Let’s go.”

Dustin guides, dragging Robin behind him while Erica follows. You stay with Steve and start walking once the others have gone ahead. 

“Awesome, movie date!” Steve exclaims with a dopey smile. He’s about to say something else when his eyes find something. Completely forgetting that you’re holding his hand, he runs towards a nearby trash can. He pulls out a bag of popcorn that had been on top of the trash pile and quickly starts shoving the food into his mouth. 

“If you ever wanna kiss me again, stop eating trash popcorn.” You snatch the bag out of his hands with a disgusted face. “I cannot believe I have to tell you that.”

“But I’m hungry.” Steve pouts, staring down at his now empty hands with despair. 

You ignore his pathetic pouting and follow Dustin, who has now flung open the curtains to the theater’s seats. He scopes the area and starts heading right. When he stops at two open seats, he points his finger at Steve and Robin. “You two, sit.”

“But these seats are too close!” Robin complains, and Steve voices his own qualms about the seating arrangements. 

However, you have other things to worry about. Shoving the teens into their seats, you wipe away crumbs on the ground with your shoe. “I’ll sit on the floor next to them. No way I’m leaving them alone when they’re high off their asses.”

Dustin looks at you, skeptical. He doesn’t want to leave you alone with them, afraid they’ll somehow get you into trouble. “You sure?”

“Positive. I’ll take care of them.” you squeeze his arm. While you understand his concern, you can’t bring yourself to abandon Steve and Robin again. Not when Steve’s face still bleeds slightly and Robin’s cheek swells with a bruise. They got hurt because of you; the least you can do is stay with them now. “Find other seats, we’ll be fine here. Just… be careful, alright?”

A man behind you shushes you rudely, reminding you where you are. If the kids don’t leave now, they run the risk of drawing more attention. You push your brother back up the aisle of seats, and he seems to understand what you’re doing. “Fine, but whatever you guys do: Don’t. Go. Anywhere.” 

“Fine, dad.” Steve glares at the kid, which you sigh at. It’s going to be a long night. 

Dustin leaves after you’ve saluted him, and Erica follows. Once they’re gone, you do your best to keep Steve and Robin quiet. As you shush them, you look up and see Dustin standing near the exit. You tilt your head, hoping he sees your questioning, and thankfully he does. He holds his radio up and mimes making a phone call. 

He’s calling for help.

You nod at Dustin, indicating that you understand, and he leaves. After you’ve checked to make sure Erica is still in her own seat at the other end of the row, you turn back towards Steve and Robin; they’re enamored with the movie playing. They whisper to themselves, not understanding what’s happening, but at least they’re quiet and out of danger. Slowly, you start to relax. 

All you have to do is stay in this movie theater until Dustin can contact the party for help. Should be simple enough. Except you make the fatal mistake of absentmindedly mentioning that you’re thirsty. “God, I need water right now.”

“Water.” Robin exhales as if it’s a prayer. Her entire face twists into longing and she hits Steve’s shoulder. “Water. Now.”

“On it!” He nods earnestly and suddenly the two of them are scrambling out of their seats. You snap your fingers at them, hiss whispered threats, but they don’t listen. They climb over you as if you’re an inconvenient bug on the ground. 

Before you can even stand up, they’re already halfway up the aisle of seats. You barely have time to get up before they’ve left the theater itself. “I’m so over them being drugged.” You huff, running after them. There isn’t time to tell Erica where you’re going, too afraid you’ll lose them if you don’t hurry. 

Those fuckers better save you some water.

– 

Steve makes you hold the button on the water fountain because he “can’t do it himself”.

“Is my help really necessary?” You complain, arms crossed as you watch Steve messily gulp water down. His neck is bent at an awkward angle and for a brief moment you truly question whether or not you find him attractive. Water drips down his chin and his gulps are obscenely loud. 

“Yes,” Steve responds in between slurps. The cold water washes over him and he’s never felt closer to God than in this moment. “That’s amazing.”

Robin stands next to you, patiently waiting her turn. “So like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but I’m pretty sure that mom was trying to bang her son.”

“In the movie?” You hadn’t been paying much attention in the theater. Your view from the ground was shitty and you were too busy making sure the idiots didn’t somehow kill themselves. However, despite your lack of attention, you doubt that’s what the movie’s premise had been about. 

“Wait, the hot chick was Alex P. Keaton’s mom?” Your hip knocks against Steve’s, causing him to choke on the water he’d been drinking. Coughing, he clutches at his chest. “I could’ve died, Y/N!”

“Sorry,” you smile sympathetically at him, feigning pity. He lost the privilege of calling other women hot after getting you locked in a Russian elevator for twelve hours. “My hip slipped.”

“Aren’t you two going to question how the guy was able to go back in time?” Robin is still focused on the whole son being in love with his mom plotline. 

Steve inhales even more water. “Then why is it called Back to the Future?”

Robin begins explaining the complexities of the movie, but you tune her out. While you appreciate that she’s trying to make conversation, you’re uneasy about being out in the open like this. There’s no one around, but you can never be too careful. It’s only when she shoves Steve away from the water fountain that you focus again. 

“Wait, I was supposed to go after him–” Your protesting falls on deaf ears as Robin steals your turn for water. Reluctantly, you step away. She can hold her own damn water fountain button. 

You notice that Steve has wandered off a few feet away. He still stumbles as he walks, though his footsteps aren’t as unsteady as they were earlier. He stops in the middle of the walkway and you join him. 

“Wow,” he breathes out, looking up. He’s mesmerized by what he’s seeing. Curious, you look up as well, though you only see the skylights above. It’s night, no natural light flows through the panels. Yet Steve stands transfixed next to you. “The stars.”

“The stars?” You’re not sure what he means. You can’t see the stars from where you stand. Then again, you suppose he could be seeing things, given that he’s heavily drugged up. 

“The stars are pretty like you, angel.” Steve says, eyes still on the sky, yet his hand somehow finds yours. He intertwines your fingers together and is able to pull you closer, albeit weakly. “You’ve always been so beautiful… scared me when we were younger.”

Your breath catches and you look at him. He’s looking up, seemingly unaware of the effect his words have on you. An overwhelming warmth fills your chest. You want to say something, tell him you love him and that his beauty last July had terrified you. 

But you don’t say anything. Steve is still high, he wouldn’t remember what you’ve said, and you want your confessions to sit within his chest the way his sit in yours. Instead, you find yourself admiring him. You study the length of his neck. The mole that rests just below his jaw and the others that litter his pretty face. His nose, the dip of his chin. The hair tucked behind his ears. His eyes.  

Steve Harrington is beautiful. Scars and all. 

Then he starts to gag and quickly the moment is ruined. 

“Oh, God.” You quickly grab his shoulders and frantically look for the nearest bathroom. In your haste, Robin reacts to Steve’s sudden sickness by gagging as well, and you’re very afraid of what’s about to unfold. “Okay, bathroom time! For the love of God, we need to find a bathroom.”

They’re useless as you twist and turn them around as you search for a bathroom. When you see a nearby sign, you drag them behind you and pray that they make it the next fifteen feet. As soon as you barrel through the bathroom door, Steve and Robin run out from behind you and just barely make it to the toilets before spilling their guts. 

You stand near the doorway, cringing. It’s not a pretty sight. 

They puke, spit out the excess, and flush the toilet to clear it before the next round of vomiting begins. Then they do it all over again. It goes on like this for a while, and all you can do is linger in the doorway and offer halfhearted comfort from across the room. You’ve never really gotten over your slight fear of vomit, if you’re being honest. 

Eventually Steve and Robin seem to throw everything up. When they’ve flushed the last of their sickness down, you hesitantly walk towards them and stand in between the stalls. “We feeling any better?”

“The room stopped spinning for me.” Robin says, her feet propped against the stall’s wall. You have no idea how she’s laying down the bathroom’s ground so casually. “Steve, is it still spinning for you?”

He looks up for a moment, testing what will happen. When he feels perfectly fine, he exhales with relief. “Holy shit. No.”

“You probably flushed the drugs out of your system when you puked.” You observe, leaning against the stall’s divider. “What were you guys on?”

“Allegedly a truth serum.” Robin says from the floor. “Ask me something, test if it’s really all gone.” Then, because she’s trying to get you to laugh, she lowers her voice and impersonates one of the Russians. “Interrogate me.”

Though you smile at her, your stomach twists. Not only were they beaten for information, they were also injected with a goddamn truth serum. Treated like lab rats. And you left them behind, all alone; you’ll never forgive yourself for that. 

But they’re here with you now, you remind yourself. They came out the other side. So you’ll do whatever you can to make it up to them and show them that you’re here for them. Even if that means asking bizarre questions to make sure they’re no longer being controlled by truth serums. “When was the last time you peed your pants?”

“Today.”

Steve looks at you to make sure you’ve also just heard Robin’s response. “What?”

You shrug. “I can’t really judge. I peed my bed a few years ago. Watched a scary movie with Dustin and had a nightmare. Wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“What?” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“See!” Robin lifts her head up from the ground to look at you. “I was also scared. When the Russian doctor pulled out a bone saw, it was only a little bit, but holy shit.”

She starts to laugh and you join her, despite the image of the bone saw you saw burning your mind. You had seen it in the room when you were saving them. It had terrified you. Yet Robin laughs about it now, so you allow yourself to as well. 

Steve shakes his head at you both. “Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.”

“And it’s not in yours, Harrington?”

His eyes shine when he looks at you. He’s coming back to himself, you can feel it. The knowing smirk is back. “Clean as a whistle, Henderson.”

Robin clears her throat, now uncomfortable. “Aright, my turn. I want to ask him a question.” When Steve gives her the okay, she takes a deep breath. She looks at you, a resigned look on her face. Something seems to have struck her, something that terrifies her. Her laughter is gone. “Have you… ever been in love?”

Steve doesn’t expect the question. He looks startled by it and tilts his head up at you. Your eyes meet, and you nod, giving him the permission he doesn’t truly need. You talked about it once, last year. The two of you in your room late one night, whispering confessions about love and the pain it brought. It was never a secret. 

“Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” Steve mimes a gunshot to his heart, trying to lessen the unease. He will never really feel comfortable talking about that time of his life. 

“Oh, my God.” Robin rolls her eyes. “She’s such a priss.”

You walk over to her stall and nudge her leg with your shoe. “Hey, she’s my friend, ya know.” Ignoring how dirty the bathroom floor inevitably is, you sit next to Robin. “She’s not a priss.”

“At least, not really.” Steve adds, nostalgia in his voice. 

Robin seems to hear it, too. She sits up, eyes not meeting yours. “Are you still in love with Nancy?”

Without meaning to, you hold your breath. You know Steve no longer loves her, but it’s July and somehow he still isn’t yours. There’s still trust between you, but your body tenses and your heart stutters. 

And yet Steve doesn’t hesitate. It’s immediate. He doesn’t even have to think about it. He’s known since April, though his body has known since he offered you his hand the day you almost hit his car with your bike. “No.”

“Why not?” Robin doesn’t know why she’s pushing this. You’re next to her, your thigh presses against hers. She knows that Steve is in love with you. He confessed it to her when she was teasing him about it just a few days ago. She devoted an entire whiteboard to tallying all the times he failed to ask you out. 

Steve is yours, and you’re his, but Robin can’t help but pick at scabs and expose old wounds. 

There’s a few moments of silence. Steve takes his time responding. He can almost feel your hand ghosting over his, even though you’re separated by a stall. “I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.”

You’re quiet. Robin is as well. 

“You know, it’s crazy.” Maybe it’s the truth serum still coursing through Steve’s veins or maybe it’s because he’s almost died a million times tonight. All he knows is that he’s tired of running. You deserve to know how he feels about you. “Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been badgering me about asking this girl out. That I need to ‘find my Suzie’. A girl he met at camp who somehow became his girlfriend, who I’m not even sure is actually real.”

He’s rambling. He knows he is, but you and Robin remain silent and patiently wait for him to keep going. Steve inhales, holds the breath for a few seconds, and exhales. All summer he’s been agonizing over this very moment. He’s spent countless sleepless nights terrified that he’d somehow ruin it. In the end, his own cowardice only hurt you; he still remembers the way your body shook in his arms while he held you as you cried last night. Steve remembers the fear on your face when you realized you couldn’t save him. That the Russians were going to take him away from you. 

It was then, seeing the terror in your eyes and hearing the desperation in your voice, that Steve Harrington finally realized you would give all of yourself to him; that is what love is. 

To love someone is to know that they deserve your love. 

And for some reason you love Steve. You see something in him that deserves your love. He’s no longer terrified that his love isn’t enough for you. He realizes now that it’s enough. His love is enough because it is his. 

You deserve love, and Steve is more than happy to give all of his to you. 

“The point is,” Steve runs a hand through his hair. He can feel you listening, waiting. “This girl, you know, the one that I love, it’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school… and I don’t even know why.”

A small laugh cuts through the barrier between you and Steve. The two of you spent years together in school, and not once did he ever talk to you. There was one time, early sophomore year, when he collided with you in the hallway while running to the bathroom to meet Nancy. He had apologized to you, but he continued running and hadn’t looked back.

It was two years ago, but you had only been kids, then.

Hearing your laugh emboldens Steve. He clears his throat, lifts his head. He wishes you were in the stall with him. “I think… I think I was scared. I had always watched her from afar. I mean, here was this girl who would offer help to anyone who needed it. Didn’t matter who they were, she’d help them. I just, I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand why someone would go out of their way to help others without expecting anything in return.”

“I mean, there I was, worrying about being prom king while this girl was tutoring kids for free in the school library.” Steve scoffs at himself. He will never forgive himself for wasting all those years with you. He could’ve been your friend sooner had he not been such an asshole. “It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should’ve been friends with this girl the whole time.”

You rest your head against the wall, buzzed with warmth. “You should’ve,” you find yourself saying softly. Though you know yourself. Steve came into your life when you needed him the most, at the right time, for the right reasons. The timing had never been right before. “But I’m sure the girl is glad you ended up how you did.”

“Me, too.” Warm honey laces Steve’s voice. He can almost feel your body on his. He can see the lines and strings above him, materializing into something more solid with every word he says. “Still should’ve happened sooner, though. I mean, this girl we’re talking about is incredible. She makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met. She’s witty, she always knows what to say and she’s so goddamn smart. I don’t think she knows this, but she has this way with people…”

His voice trails off. It’s what he loves the most about you. The effect you have on everyone you meet. The impact you make within a person’s life simply by smiling at them. “She has a way of making someone into a better person without even realizing it, just by being a part of their life. She… she made me a better person. Taught me to be softer, more vulnerable.”

Steve hadn’t known gentleness until he met you. 

To your left, Robin starts to close in on herself with every word he Steve says. She slouches down, drops her head into her knees almost as if in despair.

“She saw this good in me that no one else had before. For some reason, instead of using it against me like others have, she believed that I could be someone different. That I could change… It didn’t matter how long it would take me, she would wait. And I’m so goddamn lucky to be in love with someone as selfless as her.”

Guilt eats away at Robin. She’s harbored a resentment towards Steve all summer, even though she tried to swallow the feeling down. The love between you and Steve had always been obvious from the first day she met you. She watched the two of you dance around each other every day, basking in the sickly sweet young love you shared with one another. 

It’s not that Robin resented your relationship with Steve. No, she was happy for you, truly. The bitter taste in her mouth whenever she watched you gently stroke his cheek with your fingertips was remorse intermingling with resentment because she will never be able to do that. She will never be able to love someone so openly. To have someone hold her hand and call her tender names. 

You’re a beautiful girl with a boy who could adore you freely. Robin can only ever watch you from the shadows, scared to be caught.

You notice Robin’s shift in demeanor and press your body closer to hers. You’ve never seen her look so small before, so unsure of herself, and it worries you. “Hey, is everything okay?”

She shakes her head, too afraid that if she talks she’ll start to cry. The kindness that you offer her stings. She doesn’t deserve it. Not when she believes you outshine the sun. Before she can make up some excuse, Steve knocks on the stall. “Robin? Y/N? Did someone just OD over there?”

“No,” Robin’s breath is shaky, which worries you even more. “We’re still alive.”

You try to meet her eye, but she won’t look up at you. You’re not sure what’s happened, but she’s closed herself off from you; you feel like an intruder. Placing an arm on her shoulder, you’re about to offer her some more water when Steve’s body slides into the stall.

He settles himself across from you, shy with his movements. Your heart lurches when you see him, too. He confessed his love for you only moments prior, and you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and call him yours, but Robin looks pale. She’s scared. You just don’t know why.

“The floor’s disgusting,” she says to Steve, hoping to get the attention off of her. 

“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” He looks down, cringes slightly. You remain silent, and Robin’s eyes are still downcast. Seeing this, Steve tries to lighten the mood and asks Robin a teasing question. “So, what do you think?”

“About?”

“This girl,” he turns to you, then. He looks at you with such fondness and knows that both you and Robin know he had been talking about you the entire time. He’s trying to get you to laugh, bring a smile back to your faces.

Robin tries to play along, swallowing down the remaining bitterness. You’re sitting next to her, your hand is still on her arm. “She sounds awesome.” 

“She is awesome.” Steve winks at you, hoping it’ll get you to blush the pretty pink he loves so much. When it works, he smiles. “And what about the guy?”

“I think he’s as sweet as honey in July.” You say, giving into Steve’s charm. It’s worked on you ever since the day you crashed into that ditch, even if back then you refused to admit it.

“Yeah? Well, I think he’s on drugs, and that he’s not thinking straight. That he doesn’t realize how lucky he is.” Robin interjects. She doesn’t look at you, her eyes remain on Steve. You raise your eyebrows at what she’s said. You hadn’t expected such a pessimistic response from her.

Off put by her sudden dejection, Steve becomes defensive. He doesn’t understand what Robin is doing. She was the one who kept encouraging Steve to ask you out all summer. “Really? ‘Cause I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual. He knows what luck is.”

“Does he? What if there’s this other girl, one he hasn’t seen yet. I mean, really seen.” Robin swallows. Her fingers twist together nervously. “What if he one day sees her and realizes just how unlucky she is. I don’t think the guy would ever want to be her friend after that.”

“No, that’s not true. No way is that true.” Steve shifts closer to the two of you now, confused as to why Robin is saying all of this. Of course she’s his friend. “I mean, apart from the girl he’s in love with, this other girl is the guy’s only friend.”

“Listen to me, Steve.” Robin still doesn’t look at you, but you listen silently and allow her the space she seems to need. “It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you, but I’m not lucky like you are. I think… I think you should use that luck. Go for the girl.”

Steve tilts his head, not quite following. “What does luck have to do with any of it?”

Robin sighs and you sit next to her, quiet. She seems to be trying to figure out what she wants to say, and somehow you think you know what she means by luck. It’s always fascinated you, luck and love. Two sides of the same coin. But it never occurred to you that there could be an undercurrent that cuts through the luck. A double meaning behind it. 

“Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?”

“Yeah,”

Robin closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them, there’s a resolved look in them.  “It… It isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

At first, you’re confused. You had missed their conversation about Mrs. Click’s class. They must’ve had it when they were being held captive, but the phrasing of what Robin has just said feels heavier than it should. Her words land on you with a force you hadn’t seen coming. 

If Robin had for some reason talked about being obsessed with Steve in a class they once shared, but not because she had a crush on him, but because a girl wouldn’t stop staring at him… 

“Mrs. Click?”

Even though you’ve done well remaining silent this entire time, you can’t help but snort at Steve’s response. He’s trying, you know he is. Robin must know this too, because she laughs softly at him as well. “No, Steve.”  Her smile dims, however. “That would’ve made things easier for me, though.”

Easier. Luckier. 

And then it all clicks. 

Robin’s insistence on always pleasing you. The subtle touches. The way her eyes would darken sometimes when you looked at Steve. How, only an hour ago, she had asked you for a kiss when she was still under the influence of the truth serum. 

You draw your hand towards hers and slowly thread your fingers together. Robin’s head spins, she finally allows herself to look at you. She finds your eyes staring into hers. They’re kind, understanding. You’re looking right through her in this very moment, and Robin Buckley has never been more afraid. 

“How long have you known?” You ask her, voice gentle.

Robin’s voice shakes. “Since Tammy Thompson…” She has to look away from you. She can’t do this with you looking at her. “She was in Mrs. Click’s class with me and Steve. I–I wanted her to look at me, but.. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him and his stupid hair.”

She pauses, tries to compose herself, and you squeeze her hand three times. Once to tell her that you’re there, another to give her the reassurance to go on, and the final time to communicate that you understand. There isn’t a reason to be scared. Somehow, Robin knows what the gesture means. Breathing in, she looks at Steve and continues. 

“And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor and you asked dumb questions and you were a douchebag. And–and you didn’t even like her and I–” Her voice breaks. “I would go home… and just scream into my pillow.”

Steve looks between the two of you. It’s obvious he’s the only one not aware of the underlying layers. “But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.”

“Steve,” Robin breathes out, pleading. She doesn’t want to say it out loud. She can’t say it out loud. He needs to understand what she’s trying to say. Why she’s been giving him hell all summer. Why she feels guilty when she looks at you.

“Yeah?” But he doesn’t understand.

Robin can’t say anything. She looks at him, can feel the tears in her eyes; she’s begging now. Steve’s eyes find yours, silently begging you as well to explain this to him. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong. He doesn’t want to be doing something that could hurt Robin like this. 

Your shoes squeak against the tile floors as you draw your knees into your chest. You’re not sure what else you can do. Robin has laid everything out for Steve. Your hand still holds hers and you try to quell the fear within you that maybe he’s being intentionally naive. Maybe he doesn’t want to believe it. 

“Oh.” 

It’s one word, one exhale of breath from a mouth that once used to say cruel things. Steve’s face softens, his jaw unclenches and his shoulders relax. He surprises you, showing nothing but empathy. He’s kind, he’s always been kind.

“Holy shit,” Steve doesn’t want to mess this up, but he’s never been good with words. 

Robin laughs. “Yeah, holy shit.”

He sighs and leans against the stall wall. It’s quiet between the three of you. No one really knows what to say now. Steve is still processing, Robin’s heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled, and you’re trying to figure out how to tell her that you understand more than she may know. She’s braver than you, trusted you with this secret, and it’s only fair that you offer her a part of yourself as well. 

Plus, it’s a wonderful ice breaker. 

“You have terrible taste in women, Robin.” You nudge her with your shoulder, teasing. “I mean, I’ve heard Tammy Thompson during choir rehearsal. You can totally do better.”

“She wants to be a singer, she has dreams!” Robin defends the girl, the change in conversation bizarre but welcomed. 

Steve, sensing that you’re trying to lessen the tension, gratefully plays along. “So what she has dreams? She can’t even carry a tune. But, more importantly, what do you know about taste in women, Y/N?”

“I see things,” you jut your head out, defiant. “Probably would’ve fallen in love with Nancy Wheeler had I known her instead of Jonathan.”

Their reactions are expected.

“You would’ve loved Nancy?” Steve exclaims at the same time as Robin guffaws, “You loved Byers?” 

You laugh. It’s a full, whole body laugh. One you haven’t felt in so long. “Yes,” you wheeze out, the look on their faces killing you. Steve looks unnerved while Robin looks disgusted. “At least Jonathan doesn’t sound like a muppet when he sings.”

“Tammy does not!” Robin is laughing alongside you now. It’s been a long time since she’s laughed this hard, too.

Steve rolls his eyes, his own smile overtaking his face. “She sounds like a muppet giving birth, Robin.”

“That’s what she reminds me of!” You snap your fingers and point at him. “You’re right!”

Robin clutches her stomach as she laughs. She leans into your side as you lean into her. Steve starts doing a terrible impersonation of Tammy’s awful singing, which only gets the two of you to laugh even harder. Steve gets you to sing along. He grabs the hand that isn’t holding Robin’s and swings it around as the two of you sing. Robin joins, laughing more than singing. It’s lovely. Absolutely lovely. 

And this is how Dustin finds the three of you.

He slams the bathroom door open, Erica right behind him, and stands in front of you.

“Okay,” he glares at you specifically. “What the hell, Y/N?”

You giggle at his disappointed dad stance. “I told you I’d take care of them.”

Dustin isn’t amused, which only makes your giggles turn to laughter again. The other two teens aren’t far behind you, descending into yet another fit of laughter. Hunched together, the three of you giggle breathlessly as your brother and Erica watch in disbelief. 

But you ignore their questioning stares.

With both Steve and Robin holding your hands, laughter warming your belly, you feel like a kid again.

– 

 The bus becomes your only option.

“I managed to contact the party.” Dustin had informed you after your laughter died down.

Relief washed over you. “Thank God–”

“But then my walkie died.”

“Yeah,” you had sighed and dropped your head down in defeat. “Yeah, of course it did. Why wouldn’t it die when we need it?”

Which leads you to now: peering out the bathroom door with Steve breathing down your neck and Dustin in front of you, checking to make sure it’s safe. A crowd of people flood the once empty hallway. The movie must’ve just finished. Everyone is talking excitedly, having no idea that five teenagers are currently hiding in the bathroom from Russians. 

You envy them. 

“When I say ‘blend’, we go. Okay?” Dustin asks the group, eyes still on the mass of people exiting the theater. 

“Because Steve dripping blood definitely will blend in.” You retort. It’ll be hard not to draw attention to yourselves with the way his face still oozes. It’s a long walk down to the bus station and you’re getting worried now. The mall closes in ten minutes, soon there won’t be any crowds to hide behind. 

Dustin doesn’t bother justifying your remark. Instead he studies the flow of traffic before giving his signal. “Blend.”

The five of you swiftly exit the bathroom and align your pace with everyone around you. Dustin guides in front with Erica while you stay back with Steve and Robin. Your eyes move constantly, scanning every face you pass. Thankfully, the people close to you seem innocent enough.

Erica looks around, impressed. “Well, shit. That worked.”

“Of course it worked.” Dustin is smug, which makes you wince. He’s always had a bad habit of jinxing things. You really wish he had gotten more of your mom’s humility and less of your dad’s ego. “Now we just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and home sweet home, here we come.”

You shove your brother. “Can we not taunt our inevitable bad luck?”

“We’re in the clear now, Y/N. Trust me, in just twenty minutes we’ll be back home, where our dear mother awaits with her frantic arms wide open–”

“Uh, Dustin?” Steve eyes him nervously. Already you dread whatever he’s about to say. You guys only lasted thirty seconds without any bad luck. It’s a new record, honestly.

“What?”

“Yeah, we might not wanna go to your house.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Steve winces with regret. He knows he’s about to piss both Hendersons off. “I might’ve told them your full name.”

Dustin turns to look at him, bewildered. “What is wrong with you?”

“Dude, I was drugged.” Steve argues, which. Yeah. That’s fair.

Not liking that he apparently sold your brother out to Russians, yet understanding that Steve hadn’t been the most clear headed when it happened, you grab his hand. There’s more important matters to deal with, like whether or not he sold you out as well. “Did you tell them my full name?”

“No, I kept you safe.” He says, with an air of obviousness that you smirk at. 

“Aw, thanks honey.” You kiss his cheek, not caring that Dustin is fuming in front of you. 

“Oh, so you can resist for your girlfriend but not for her brother?” Dustin struggles to keep his voice low. He has never wanted to shove Steve down a flight of stairs more. “You were supposed to tough it out. Like a man!”

You flick the kid’s hat. “Hey, he was very manly defending my honor.”

“I hate you both–”

Robin suddenly freezes, her eyes catching on something. “Guys…”

Everyone stops, alarmed by the tone in her voice, before you see them. There, standing right in front of the exit of the mall, are the two Russian men from the alley. They’re stopping people, checking their faces, looking for you. 

“Abort.” Dustin says, before one of the men makes direct eye contact with him. His face pales and you already have one hand on his shoulder, pulling at him to run. “Abort!”

Steve grabs Erica’s hand and motions for you and Dustin to run ahead as Robin guides. She pushes through the crowd of people and towards the escalators. However, when you get there, they’re roped off and blocked by plexiglass. 

You kick at the glass, frustrated. The Russians are close now. Robin, quick as ever, steps past you and places herself in the middle of the two escalators. You’re confused at first, but then you realize there’s just enough space for your bodies to fit through. Sitting down, Robin is able to use the gap as a makeshift slide.

“Let’s go,” Steve places Erica to slide down next, then Dustin. When it’s your turn, he nods at you. “Ready?”

“I’m so tired of running from these shitheads.” You say before launching yourself down the escalators. 

Robin waits for everyone at the bottom. When you’re all there, she waves for you to follow as you run again. None of you have any idea where to even hide now that the mall has emptied. There’s no one to hide behind, no corner to run into. And the goddamn Russians are fast, never trailing more than fifty feet behind you. 

Somehow you end up in the food court. It isn’t much, but there’s at least vendor’s stalls and restaurant counters nearby. Panting, you point towards the nearest counter. “There! Everyone jump over!”

No one argues, doing as they’re told. You make it there first and help Erica over while Steve and Robin help Dustin. Kneeling down, you motion for everyone to sit with a finger to your lips. The men have to be nearby, you can practically feel their presence close. Facing your friends, you grip your knives and strain your ears for any sounds. 

It’s tense. Dustin pants, he’s scared and overwhelmed and you wish you could offer him better protection. Steve glances at you, silently asking you what the next move is, and you shake your head helplessly. You’re cornered, there’s no way out of this one. 

The sound of boots falling against the mall’s ground approaches. It grows louder and louder at a maddeningly slow pace. Your knuckles are white from how tightly they grip around the hilt of your switchblade. With one flick of your wrist, you know you could at least disarm one of the men long enough to cause a distraction. You’d never kill anyone, but you know from experience that a cut to the shoulder is sufficient enough. 

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when a car alarm suddenly goes off. Its loud noise echoes within the empty mall. Everyone jumps at the unexpected sound, shuffling closer together. Deciding it’s worth the risk, you poke your head up to see what the hell is going on. 

The guards are standing around a red convertible. It shakes, vibrates almost, and they look at one another in confusion. The car continues to shriek its alarm, and while the men stand in fear, you smile. There’s static in the air.

Looking up you see El, with an arm outstretched, on the second floor. Her face is strained, her fingers clench in mid air. The look on her face is terrifying, and you’ve never been happier to see blood drip down from her nose. She twists her arm and sends the car flying into the men. You duck as it crushes them, rolls over the tables and chairs in the center, before spiraling into the counter next to you. “Shit!”

The alarm stops ringing. Everything falls silent. Slowly, you and everyone else stand up to inspect the damage. A tire rim rolls past, the Russians guards are sprawled on the ground, unmoving. There’s smoke from where the car has landed, and you let out a low whistle. “Nice one, El.”

“El?” Dustin turns around, wondering if he’s heard you right.

“She’s up there,” you point to where she had been standing, but when you see Jonathan now standing next to her with Nancy, your heart stops. “Jonathan.”

You’re the first to start running, and when he sees that it’s you, Jonathan wastes no time running either. He’s down the escalator in seconds. Your whole body buzzes as you run, adrenaline and longing coursing through you. The moment he’s close enough, you practically leap into his arms.

“Bug,” he holds onto you tightly. He buries his face in your hair and you breathe him in. It’s a familiar scent, a familiar warmth. You had been so focused on escaping the Russian base that you hadn’t even considered that he and everyone else in the party could’ve been involved. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you tighten your arms around him, but when he makes a pained noise, you immediately pull away. It’s then that you notice the swelling in his head. The dried blood. Pressing your fingers softly to his face, you fill with concern. “What happened, are you hurt?”

Jonathan tries to shrug it off. He doesn’t care about what he’s been through. All he wants to focus on is that you’re okay, for once not covered in blood and bruises like he is. Wherever you’ve been these last few days, at least he knows you weren’t in any pain. “I’m fine, I’ll tell you everything later–”

“You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!” Dustin exclaims to El, now joining you and Jonathan as the others gather around. 

You don’t leave Jonathan’s side as everyone starts talking at once. Lucas asks why Erica is involved, to which you wince at. “I tried stopping them.”

“It’s their fault.” Erica points at Steve and Robin, clearing your name in the process, which you appreciate her for. 

Steve stands next to you now and puts his hands on his hips. He doesn’t even try to deny that he’s the reason a ten year old girl ended up locked inside an underground Russian facility. “Yeah, true. Totally true. It’s absolutely our fault.” 

Robin asks what happened to the car and Dustin and Steve explain El to her. They quickly catch her up to speed about the girl’s power, and you feel bad for the teen. It’s a lot of information to take in at once. Erica joins, having remembered her conversation with Dustin from earlier in the vents when he had explained the Upside Down to her. 

Meanwhile, Nancy is focused on Robin. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“That’s Robin. She’s a friend.” You step between them. When Nancy sees that it’s you, she quickly looks away. She fidgets with her fingers, overwhelmed with shame and regret. She hasn’t forgotten the cruelty she showed you a few days ago. You haven’t forgotten either, but you’ve never been one to hold anger towards others. Extending a kind smile, you nod at her. “Hey, Nance.”

Nancy looks up, surprised, but smiles at you as well and it’s enough. Maybe one day you’ll sort through the tension that never seems to leave you and the girl alone. Untangle the lines and threads that haunt both of you. For now, there are other things to worry about. 

Steve has started explaining the Russians now, and quickly it becomes clear that you’ve all been dealing with vastly different situations. 

“Russians, what Russians?” Jonathan asks you with alarm. 

“See those guys laying over there?” Everyone looks at where you’re pointing, the men still knocked out on the ground. “Russians. We enjoyed twenty-four wonderful hours with them.”

“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at. 

“It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.”

“And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.

Nancy looks uncomfortable with this new information, Mike makes a disgusted sound, Max high fives you, Lucas cheers, Will gasps and looks nervously towards his brother, and Jonathan chokes on his own spit. It’s truly a very wide array of reactions, all of which are expected to certain extents. 

That doesn’t stop you from hitting the back of Dustin’s head, though. “Can we focus on the Russians infiltrating Hawkins?” Dustin hits your shoulder in retaliation, but he knows you’re right. He turns to Mike, upset that he hadn’t come sooner. “Didn’t you get our code red?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying.”

The kids all start to argue and Steve joins in, making a remark about how he’s always bugging Dustin to watch for a low battery. More arguing follows. Lucas and the others demand to hear more about the Russians. As you try your best to explain everything, you notice from the corner of your eye El walking away from the group.

Her shoulders are drawn into her body, her breathing seems to be labored. You nudge Jonathan, pulling his attention away from the kids arguing, and point towards El. “What happened to her tonight?”

Jonathan is about to explain what they’ve been dealing with, but when El collapses onto the ground, you leave his side in a heartbeat to join her. Kneeling beside her, you’re cold with panic. She’s covered in sweat, her face is flushed. “El? Sweetheart, what’s happening?”

Mike and Jonathan are beside you now. Mike is in his own fit of panic, nearly ramming into you in his hurry to get to the girl. He turns her over onto her back, his face twisted with worry and fear. “El! What’s wrong?”

The rest of the group stands around El now, staring down at her. She manages to open her eyes, but you can tell that it pains her to do so. “My leg.” She rasps out, voice thick with tears. 

“Her leg, okay.” Jonathan takes action, swiftly unraveling a bandage on her leg. You hadn’t noticed it before. There’s a deep wound underneath the gauze, its blood has soaked through it. Nancy helps Jonathan with the bandage, and when they finally get it off, you almost throw up at the sight. 

The flesh is raised, angry and swollen. There’s a giant gash in El’s leg, deep and to the bone. The veins in her legs are dark and begin to constrict when something starts to move inside the wound; something is crawling inside her leg. It’s a nauseating sight.

Mike starts to freak out even more. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He’s scared for the girl, his eyes fill with panic. Instinctively you pull him into your arms, tightening your hold as he fights against it. 

That’s when El begins to scream.

-

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[courtingchaos]

Crosstalk

Undesired signal leakage from one sound channel or track to another.

Playlist (if you wanna play along at home.)

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Prompt: Eddie - I really like the idea of making him a naughty tape full of audio recordings of you playing with yourself for when he's out of town and you can't be together for a few days. But it's a surprise so you pass it off as a regular old mixtape and he doesn't suspect a thing until the first two songs end and then the real stuff starts.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Masturbation, reader tattoo mention

A/N: I have a list in my notes of prompts and I don’t remember what ask this one came from originally so apologies for that.

18+ NSFW No Minors

Eddie digs through the bag he hastily packed that morning while the phone sits tucked between his cheek and his shoulder. “What kind of surprise is it? When did you even get it in here? Is it dirty?” He gasps into the receiver. He can feel you swatting his arm even from four hours away.

“It’s nothing wild, it’s just-“

His fingers close around something almost buried to the bottom and he fishes it out, slick plastic cassette case gleaming in the low motel light. “Did you make me a mixtape?”

“I told you it wasn’t anything wild.”

He knows you’re twirling your finger through the phone cord, your chin probably tucked into your collar in mild embarrassment.

“I love it.”

“Don’t uh, don’t go playing it for the guys though.”

“Oh so it is dirty.”

“No, I just don’t want them making fun of me for putting Linda Ronstadt on there three times.”

“Three? What are you, breaking up with me via music?” Eddie teases you while he reads the insert you lovingly wrote on, little hearts in the corners beside the 10 track listing.

“No! She’s just got a way with the language of love!” You whine into the phone and Eddie laughs.

“Okay, okay. I’ll keep it all to myself. Gives me something to listen to while I fall asleep.” Behind him the shower cuts off and he knows Gareth will be out to finish his tangent on getting bullied out of his terrible pizza toppings. “You gonna be okay if I let you go?”

“I won’t cry myself to sleep if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh shut up, I know you walk that widows peak night and day awaiting my return from…Detroit.”

“I don’t waste my time like that. I know you’re up to your armpits in groupies.”

Eddie looks around the old motel room and scoffs. “If you think four nerds are pulling groupies in the kind of room we have, I have a river to sell you.”

After saying goodnight five times and you finally hanging up on him being sappy he flings himself into the bathroom after Gareth and before Jeff and Frank get back with food. Four straight hours in a car with three other men makes him want to crawl out of skin so he watches the steam roll out from the behind the shower curtain with anticipation. Almost scalding water leaves red marks over his shoulders and down his chest, enough to make him feel clean again while he rinses his hair. He can hear muffled voices from the other side of the thin bathroom door and knows he’s been relegated to the small couch in their room.

“You know, it’d be nice to get the bed once in a while.” He says when he exits the bathroom and snatches two slices from the open box on the single king bed.

“If you didn’t try to spoon all of us we would.”

“Oh what, you bothered by a little cuddling?”

Gareth glares at Eddie hard and Jeff cracks up at the deep breath he takes in. “If it was just cuddling I wouldn’t think anything of it, but you turn into the world’s only land octopus! I’ve never been so sweaty in my life! I don’t know how your girl puts up with it, you’re a fucking radiator!”

“This is why I always take the cot.” Frank singsongs from said cot while watching the local news.

The bickering continues as Eddie makes his temporary bed on the too hard, too small couch and finally ends when Jeff just shuts off the lights. “I need everyone to shut the fuck up for the next five hours okay?”

Eddie only hums and fishes around for his headphones, cassette player tucked up under the blanket with him. With the tv flashing across the walls Eddie starts to drift off to the slow beat of “Blue Bayou”, a soft chuckle for your choice of intro, and by the end of it he’s almost out when he hears your voice.

“Okay, so uhm, this is actually your final warning to stop playing this for everyone because you never listen to me so I’m trying to save us both some face you ratfink.”

His eyes snap open in the dark and he pulls the player out from under the covers like it’ll tell him what’s going on.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll listen to me this time though if I put a warning on your mixtape.”

He slaps around beside him on the floor for the case and squints at it in the flashing tv lights to see if you wrote something he missed.

“Anyways though, I do miss you and I hope your show goes well. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there but there’s never much room in those motels, huh?”

He can tell you moved around while recording, the bumping of the tape deck clacking in his ears. He’s glad it’s dark so none of the guys give him shit for the blush he knows is dusting his cheeks.

“Hell, one day soon you’ll get your own room and then I can come out and I don’t have to do sappy shit like this.”

The recording cuts and jumps to Carly Simon’s “You Belong to Me” and Eddie can’t help but laugh and feel hollow at the same time. As small as this couch is it would be nice to feel your weight on top of him, your head smushed in next to his sharing headphones that might snap from overextension. The song cuts off a few notes early to shuffling sounds and then your strained voice.

“This is really hard to do one handed, I won’t lie, but I wasn’t just gonna whisper sweet nothings to you.”

One handed? He can barely make out your breathing but he can hear the gasp alongside your light laughter.

“I don’t know if you know this, and if you don’t I’m sure I’m just inflating your ego but-“

The long sigh that follows finally jogs his tired brain and keys him into what’s happening. He whips his head to the side to see the sleeping forms of the other three before he sits up and pays closer attention.

“You have amazing hands Eddie, and it isn’t just-ohhh-it isn’t just the guitar playing you know? You know just where that spot is. I think your fingers are longer, I don’t know.”

Suddenly Bonnie Raitt is in his ear and he’s fumbling for the buttons on the side of the player to fast forward because while he appreciates your mixtape skills, now is not the fucking time. You would make him wait through three more songs before he accidentally runs into the middle of your recording, a thin moan of his name that makes him stand and head for the bathroom.

“-and I just miss you a lot and you’ve only been gone f-for what, a day by the time you get this?”

His lighter clicks in the dark while juggles the tape player and his pack of cigarettes.

“You actually just left my place. We had dinner and I told you I wouldn’t fuck you because it’s like good luck or some shit. I heard boxers do it like that.”

You have a remarkable way of running your mouth while otherwise occupied, thoughts that zip between moans and even he has a hard time keeping up. In the bathroom he cracks the small window so he doesn’t set the smoke detector off and then locks the door behind him before turning the shower on full blast. When he finally sits on the edge of the tub he expects a little more from you before Bill Withers starts singing about missing sunshine and he has to fast forward again.

“You’d think I’d be a little embarrassed to do this but actually it’s-fuck-it’s kind of easier to rec-“

Eddie sucks on his cigarette until the cherry burns bright red and his lungs start screaming, the cut off voice in his ears lending to quiet sounds of your hand working fast to make your breath jump in your chest. He thinks about you probably laying on the floor of your tiny studio, right at the foot of your bed with that big boombox next to your head set to record. That pillow that’s too big for your tiny couch, the one that got relegated to a ‘floor pillow’, stuffed behind your head while your toes catch on the edge of your green rug as you try to brace yourself.

Eddie sits on the edge of the tub and breathes in his own exhaled smoke and chews on his lip till it goes almost numb. Sits there and listens to your gasps and whimpers, the far off wet slick of your fingers moving faster.

“You’d think…I was making you…a tape to send you off to war.” Your laugh is light, forced air before it chokes off on his name and he slides down to the cold tile floor. Cigarette tossed into the tub behind his head, he’ll fish the butt out of the drain when he’s done listening to your voice.

“Barely a long weekend and-and-ah shit!”

You’ve tranced him, hardly notices the dig of the tile against his bare skin, doesn’t give a shit that this floor is dirtier than he can imagine probably. He lets his vision fuzz with the steam filling the small bathroom so he can focus on your voice and try to picture you laid out in front of him. It’s just another lazy afternoon, weed haze ringing your apartment while he watches you from across the room.

“I miss you when you’re gone. It’s only four days but I miss you Eddie.”

Sitting on that tiny couch and mesmerized by the dance of your fingers over your own skin. Nails press lightly into lines of ink to trail up your thigh and over your hip, to press into the softness of your belly. You’d hold his gaze the whole time like a dare while your other hand kneaded at your chest. When those adventuring fingers finally dip between your thighs and you sigh so light, Eddie follows suit.

Through the headphones he can hear you closer now like your lips were pressed to his ear. Heavy pants and no more words, just breathing that stutters and climbs in pitch. He wastes no romance on himself, not here in this cramped bathroom, not when he can almost feel your breath hot and damp against his neck. With every hitch of your voice he speeds his hand up, didn’t even bother pulling his shorts down all the way. In his imagination you give him a chastising smile for it before your reddened eyes roll back into your skull on a moan and he uses both hands now, just like you would.

The next song started and ended maybe but his hair clings to him in the steam and his sweat. There’s a chord change he thinks that proceeds his stomach clenching and his thighs aching before it all cuts off with your loud moan. You must have slapped at the player too late, not catching all of your agonies for him. Not everything, sure, but the important part is there. Your voice chanting low as your pleasure ebbs, his name over and over until you giggle and gasp.

Soft hands, phantom and damp with arousal and sweat cup his face when he cums, the heel of his palm shoved into his mouth to stifle the high noises trying to escape his throat. The track clicks again back to music and it isn’t until Eddie hears Peter Frampton that he starts to crash back into reality.

“If I know you like I think I do, I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes at me.” You giggle again at the end of the cassette, satiated and melancholy. “I just wanted you to have a little something, though I am sorry I buried it all in some of the best love songs ever written.”

You leave him with an I love you and another I miss you and a little bit of a mess to clean up. In twenty minutes though, when he’s back on the couch having evaded being caught and sucking down another smoke, he falls asleep and dreams about that hazy afternoon he intends to give you when he gets home.

[blond3ang3l]

Eren is a geek lover. He absolutely is enamored with you. Watching your lips with every word you spoke. The way you got excited telling him about every single new detail of the things you got interested in. Eren worked hard as a famous rnb singer, long days in the studio trying to perfect his songs. Then having to perform when he literally had the WORST anxiety known to man. It always felt like someone needed him and was on his ass about something.

But he did it all for you. For moment like this were he could come home and listen to you tell him. About the things you’ve watched in your huge list of video essays that you had in a playlist on YouTube. How you lit up telling him different facts from how the dating game killer had a coworker that also happened to be a serial killer and he didn’t know to the conspiracy theory of the 27 club, no matter what you said it always made you so happy and seeing you all giddy and stimming while you talked to him made him so content with his life.

…and his dick very hard

“I know cotards syndrome, Koro, Diogenes, fregoli, hypochondria, pica, capgras, boanthropy, apotenmophilia, kulver bulcy, ekbom, erotomania, Stendhal. Pics is like one of the more well known. You know that show my strange addiction that we watch together? Yeah so like those people who eat the random shit like the lady who ate rocks- omg that reminds me!”

Erens ass was not listening one bit. He was watching you, watching your body. You guys had been apart for a little over a month so could do a very short tour in another country and he was sick as fuck that he couldn’t bring you. Everyone knew it too. His attitude fucking sucked that trip. He was antsy, his anxiety was through the roof, he snapped at everyone, overall he fucking hated it. But now, sitting here with you he finally felt at peace.

You were sitting on his lap, yapping his ear off. His eyes couldn’t help but wander to your legs which lead him to notice you were wearing his boxers. The way your thick thighs filled them out compared to his own, he couldn’t resist grabbing them. Grabbing them led to groping them, which lead to him sneaking his hands under the boxer. This caught you off guard and stopped your sudden rant with a small gasp. He chuckled and slipped two fingers in his mouth covering them in his saliva before slipping them back under the boxers.

“Cmon baby, keeping telling me about the little videos.”

He had to have been joking. No way was he just gonna pretend he wasn’t teasing you. Like his finger wasn’t circling around your aching hole.

“Go on I’m waiting baby. Keeping telling me bout what you learned.”

As much as you wanted to roll your eyes you knew it would get you no where. This wasn’t a new thing, eren was always so needy. It was always worse after a tour. Even if it had only been a relatively short one.

“Okay well like I was saying, erotomania is something that a lot of celebrity stalkers have. Especially kpop ones. It’s when someone genuinely believes they’re in a relationship with a celebrity. Remember that girl that literally would follow you to the airport? That crazy bitch probably had it.”

Eren couldn’t help but bite his lip as he listened to you go on. God you looked so fucking good. Your hair looked so good. He was so glad he got you your own personal stylist so you never had to worry about needing to go to a shop or someone else’s house. You smelled so good too. That vanilla body oil you used was just fucking irresistible. He didn’t know whether he liked that one or the strawberry poundcake one more. Either way it only made him want you more.

He slowly slid a finger inside you, watching your face contort as you tried to keep your composure. A deep chuckle erupted from his throat. He missed seeing your face. Facetime wasn’t enough. Having to sneak off to the bathroom to jerk off to pictures and homemade pornos wasn’t enough for him. He needed to see you. To feel you. He slid his free hand up your shirt, groping your chest as he thrusted finger in out and of you.

“R-ren, fuck. Cmon baby, how am i supposed to talk while you’re doing this.”

Your whines only made eren smile as he thrusted a second finger inside you. He watched you as you threw your head back while crying out. He was enjoying every second of teasing you. You were so impatient and he knew it. That’s why he catered to every need you had. You hated having to wait and tended to be bratty when you did. So he made everything about you. Whatever you wanted you had. But this time he needed to be selfish. He wanted to watch you come undone first. And that’s exactly what we’re doing.

Your tight grip on his shoulders told him everything. Your nails were digging deep into his skin as you pushed back against his fingers. You didn’t want to admit it but you missed Ren so much. Your fingers and toys didn’t compare to what he could do. How he could prolong your orgasm by teasing you. He could feel you leaking all over his thigh, his boxers now all sticky along with his thigh. He slowly slid his fingers out of you causing you whine.

He didn’t feel bad at all. It was about him this time. He gripped your hips dragging you along his thigh, making it even more of a mess. You hid your face out of embarrassment. It was too much at how he could make you a whiny mess. No other man could do this to you but him.

You couldn’t help the small noises that fell past your lips as you grinded against his thigh. Eren shivered feeling your warm breath against the side of his neck. The way you tugged at his hair he knew you were close. He could read your body like a damn book.

“Cmon baby, almost there. Let me see you.”

“F-fuck ren, I cant.”

Eren wasn’t having that at all. You couldn’t what? You were gonna disobey him? No chance in hell. He gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him

“You telling me no baby? I could have sworn I said I wanted to see your face. I’ve been gone for a long time and you think your whining is gonna stop me?”

You loved moment like this when Eren suddenly got serious. He was…well he was very off Standish which came off to mean as others. But he babied you. The moment you told him no thought after he told you to do something? It was like a switch flipped in him. His tight grip on your face was only turning you on more which made you rut against his leg faster.

“You’re gonna be good aren’t you baby? Gonna cum for me like a good little whore?”

You eagerly nodded as you bit your lip. You could only cry out his name as you came all over his thigh, making a mess in his boxers. Eren kept his grip on your face to make sure you maintained eye contact the entire time. A smirk creeping on his face as you came.

“There you go baby, let’s go get you cleaned up..”

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@merakidoll Eren fic just like I promised🫶🏽

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Based of a conversation with my boyfriend where I literally was going on about mental illness during my rant about the many video essays I watch