#it's about the unspoken! it's about the longing! it's about the inability to just put your words together and have a goddamn conversation!!

[lisbonsteresa]

what if i just set myself on fire

[autistichalsin]

Halsin's solomanced epilogue devastates me without fail EVERY TIME.

He thought it would be a mistake to go. He was certain that you, connecting with your old friends, would realize you were absolutely miserable with him at the commune, and you would leave. For the first time in his life, Halsin didn't want to roam anymore- he wanted to stay somewhere safe and comforting, and that included you. But he was sure coming was going to change all of that and make you leave him.

But he still went, partly because he missed your friends so much, and partly because he knew, if that was the case, he still needed to let you discover that. That once again, he couldn't "hoard you to himself" and be selfish. So he went, certain that any moment, you'd return to him and say it was over, and you'd found a new adventure to start without him.

It kills me that he doesn't even try to stop you! He lays out his concerns, so vulnerable but so matter-of-fact. Knowing it isn't his place to change your mind.

"You could have done anything. Gone with anyone. Yet you chose me." There's just so much... unspoken pain and confusion in that statement. He doesn't understand how or why you could have chosen him above anyone else. And for that reason alone, his own inability to see how special he is (ironic coming from the one who tells YOU back in your romance scene together that you are too modest, not realizing how special YOU are) he is certain you're about to leave him, but unlike in the act 3 romance scene where he's sure you're about to leave him for accidentally wildshaping, there's no frantically-stammered excuses. Just heartbroken acceptance.

And then, when you reassure him that of course you're staying, of course you're happy with him?

"I am still expecting to... stir from the dream."

"Forgive me. This past while has been so idyllic that I almost fear something must go wrong."

Which is a sign that on top of his insecurities and abandonment issues, this man very much does have trauma/PTSD. Because people with trauma? They're really good at living through a crisis, and really bad at NOT being in one. How do you function when there's nothing to fix? Nothing going wrong? No fires to put out? Too much quiet makes the noise inside of you louder, and that's harder to ignore than external noise. So when that happens, you start worrying about what must be about to go wrong- and for Halsin, that was losing you. He was so sure that his happiness was going to be fleeting at best that he convinced himself that you were only going to be a part of it so long as you weren't reminded of how much you loved adventuring with your friends, that the instant you remembered what the alternatives to him were, you'd take them.

It breaks my damn heart, and it makes me so happy you get to promise him that he is exactly what you want, no more and no less.

[rose24207]

Lando dating his teammates ex gf after teammate hurt her

Fine line

Summary: After a painful breakup with Oscar, you find unexpected love and healing with his teammate Lando, navigating the complexities of loyalty, heartbreak, and new beginnings.

Genre: angst, fluff

TW: breakup, Oscar is an ass (I’m sorry 🥲)

A/N: damnn y’all flooded me with your requests! Thank you, don’t stop 🤭🫵 English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though. Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The air in the paddock felt heavy, thick with tension and the lingering buzz of the race. You walked briskly past the motorhomes, clutching your media pass tightly. The season had been long, stressful, and emotionally draining, but today wasn’t about work. You were trying to avoid someone—Oscar Piastri, your ex-boyfriend.

You weren’t sure how you managed to keep showing up to the same places he did, pretending everything was fine. It had been months since you broke up, but the hurt was still fresh.

Oscar had shattered you, not with one big betrayal but with the thousand tiny cuts of neglect, sharp words, and his inability to put your relationship above the demands of his career.

You understood how much Formula 1 meant to him—it was his dream—but you’d become collateral damage in his pursuit of greatness.

Your steps slowed as you approached McLaren's hospitality area. The orange and blue banners fluttered gently in the breeze, and the hum of voices carried through the open doorway.

Inside, you caught sight of him—Lando Norris. His head was thrown back in laughter, his unruly brown curls shining under the overhead lights. He had a magnetism about him, an easy charm that made him approachable despite his superstar status.

It didn’t help that Lando had been the one person who’d made the aftermath of your breakup bearable.

After your breakup with Oscar, you hadn’t expected anyone from the paddock to take your side. Oscar was the rising star, the young prodigy everyone loved. You, by comparison, were just someone who happened to be around.

But Lando had surprised you.

He’d found you crying in a quiet corner of the paddock one evening, mascara smudged and your chest tight with sobs. You’d tried to wave him off, embarrassed by your vulnerability, but Lando wasn’t the type to ignore someone in pain.

“Hey,” he’d said gently, crouching down to your level. “What’s wrong?��

You hesitated, unsure if you could trust him. But the sincerity in his eyes made you spill everything—how Oscar had grown distant, how he’d prioritized everything over you, and how his final, cutting words during your last fight had left you broken.

Lando had listened intently, his brows furrowed in concern. “That’s not okay,” he’d said when you finished. “You didn’t deserve that.”

From that moment on, Lando had been in your corner. Whether it was offering a distraction with his relentless humor or simply checking in on you after particularly rough days, he’d become a source of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.

Weeks turned into months, and your friendship with Lando deepened. What started as casual check-ins evolved into late-night phone calls, shared dinners, and quiet moments where words weren’t necessary.

He never pushed, never overstepped the boundaries of friendship, but there was something unspoken between you—an undercurrent of tension neither of you acknowledged.

You tried to ignore it.

Lando was Oscar’s teammate, his friend.

Even if things were strained between you and Oscar, it felt wrong to think about Lando in a way that wasn’t platonic. But the heart doesn’t always listen to reason.

One night, after a particularly grueling race weekend, Lando invited you to his apartment in Monaco. “Just to unwind,” he’d said. “No pressure.”

You’d agreed, needing the escape.

The evening started innocently enough—pizza, a couple of beers, and a terrible movie playing in the background. But as the night wore on, the space between you on the couch grew smaller.

Lando’s arm rested on the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder. Every touch sent a shiver down your spine, and when you turned to look at him, his gaze was soft but intense.

“I—” you started, but Lando shook his head.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “I just... I care about you. A lot. And I hate seeing you hurt.”

His words unlocked something inside you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you.

The kiss was tentative at first, as if both of you were testing the waters, but it quickly deepened, the weight of unspoken feelings pouring out in that single moment.

When you pulled away, breathless, Lando rested his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to make things complicated for you,” he said. “But I can’t pretend I don’t feel this.”

The days after that night were a whirlwind of emotions. You and Lando agreed to keep things quiet—for now. It wasn’t just about the media; there was the inevitable fallout with Oscar to consider. You weren’t sure how he’d react, but you knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

It didn’t take long for Oscar to notice the shift between you and Lando. The way Lando’s eyes lingered on you a little too long, the way you laughed more freely when he was around. Oscar confronted you one afternoon in the paddock, his expression a mix of anger and hurt.

“Are you serious?” he demanded. “You and Lando?”

You squared your shoulders, refusing to let him intimidate you. “It’s none of your business, Oscar. We’re not together anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean you go running to my teammate,” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how this makes me look?”

You frowned. “This isn’t about you. For once, it’s not about you.”

Oscar scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re unbelievable.”

Lando appeared then, stepping between the two of you. “That’s enough,” he said firmly. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

Oscar glared at him. “So this is what loyalty looks like, huh?”

“It’s not about loyalty,” Lando said. “It’s about doing what’s right. And you didn’t treat her right.”

Oscar’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might take a swing at Lando. But instead, he turned and walked away, leaving you and Lando standing there in the aftermath.

Despite the drama, being with Lando felt right.

He treated you with a kindness and respect that you hadn’t realized you were missing. The media eventually caught wind of your relationship, but you and Lando weathered the storm together, united in a way that felt unshakable.

Oscar’s anger faded with time, though your relationship with him was never the same. You didn’t regret your choice, though. Lando had shown you what love could be—patient, supportive, and genuine. And for the first time in a long time, you felt whole again.

As the season came to an end, you stood beside Lando on the podium, his arm wrapped around your waist as the crowd cheered. The journey hadn’t been easy, but it had been worth it.

Because sometimes, love is about taking risks—and finding someone who chooses you, every single time.

Thank you for reading!

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

At cane’s length

this song owns my heart, and i’ve been thinking about writing something with soft dom vibes for a while sooo. here you go.

cw: viktor x reader, smut, viktor is an unbearable tease, gn reader, gn pronouns for reader

word count: 2k~

art cr: @arcanescribbles. my inspiration for this fic, actually.

*standard ‘eng is not my first language so please don’t be mean to me’ bullshit i put before posting every single one of my fics*

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

Viktor is handsome in a cruel way. In an untouchable, ‘tease all the remaining sanity of you’ one, to be precise.

Cruel.

That short, plain word spins on your tongue, threatening to roll off it any second. You audibly gulp, desperately trying to swallow the harsh adjective, and the longing flows down your throat, leaving you breathless — almost too turned on to think straight whatsoever.

You can’t call him that. Even though he’s not exactly opposed to the idea of being relentlessly cussed out by you. It’s the consequences of your boldness that attract him: after all, he gets to watch you all tied up and needy, doe-eyed as you desperately ask to be touched… And then wide-eyed as you switch to being utterly unfiltered and vulgar, trying anything and everything to make him fuck you tonight. Spending the whatever’s left of your wits on those incoherent mumble-like sentences, pleading mewls mixed with the sounds of your knees scraping on the floor from all the squirming you do. Completely and utterly adorable in this state of raw desire, and it figuratively makes your brain slip out of your ear, replaces it with debauched thoughts, with inability to feel anything except for the lust — so intense, that it’s almost painful.

The ingenious, irritatingly smug man or, as you so kindly dubbed him, ‘kinky bastard’ is seated above you, the corners of his mouth curled into a wicked smile, legs spread in this tauntingly inviting manner — testing your limits, mocking you deliberately. He knows that you crave to be between those legs, struggling to fit the aching swell of his cock into your mouth, to let it stretch your slick, heavenly warm throat — or even to be split in twain, fucked over his desk like the horny mess you are — desperate, sobbing, charming in the tantrums you throw just for him, begging to be taken care of. Well, not only begging, to be frank. It’s a full-fledged demanding now, which, decidedly, did flatter Viktor, but being a brat never works on him. You have to be good to obtain his mercy. Negotiating, perhaps. Even when your sanity is gone, even when the only thing you can think of is choking on his dick. Those are the unspoken rules of earning Viktor’s touch — the sweet in its unattainability treasure. And you’ve learned it the hard way.

Viktor thinks it’s only fair, since he can’t be rough with you physically. His body might be sore, but his mind? God, you wish it was sore at least once in a while. Yes, he might not be able to frantically pound you into the mattress, but he’s perfectly capable of coming up with new ways to edge you. Which you loved, of course, but fuck would you prefer the first option so much more. But he’s an incorrigible inventor to the bone. Even in the sheets. Well, more precisely, now — in his lab.

The ropes on your wrists are rubbing the skin, keeping your hands tied reliably behind your back. They serve as one of the numerous reminders of this embarrassingly unfair position Viktor had put you in: you can’t move unless he’s kind enough to let you — he’s not restricted in his movements at all, you’re kneeling in front of him with a vulnerable expression — he’s leaning in his chair with a shit-eating grin, legs spread, head thrown back as he looks down at you in a way a master looks at his servant. You’re fully naked — he’s fully clothed. Viktor calls it ‘the perfect balance’. You call it ‘please, just take that damn thing off’. The idyll.

“Viktor, why are you doing this to me?” you mutter, glancing at him with a weak sigh. He quirks an eyebrow, unbothered, divine-looking with those rays of sunlight peeking through his dark hair, forming a figurative nimbus. ‘Like a god,’ you think, and for the briefest of moments your gaze changes from desperate to enamoured. But then you remember that your god refuses to be worshipped. That he would rather watch you suffer, disregarding your every prayer. And so you frown again.

“Funny, you should ask,” he purrs, the thickness of his accent matching the thickness of sexual tension between you. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re supposed to keep your enemies at arm’s length.“

You scoff, ignoring the painful tingling in your knees, the once cold floor beneath you warm and sticky in the places your hot skin touched it.

“I’m no enemy of yours,” you mutter, sounding almost genuinely offended. But Viktor only laughs, mouth open in a silent, amused ‘oh?’. Your only response is a frustrated moan.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, dear,” he demonstratively clutches his cane, the sexy bend of his long fingers so tempting it nearly has you cumming on the floor. “Didn’t you mention hating me earlier?”

Of course you did. How couldn’t you, when you wanted so badly to open wide for him, to bite on the calloused thumb, the undefinable salty, with a mixture of something metallic taste of his skin so familiar you could easily make it out. Oh, and with accuracy sharp enough for its savour to become a phantom sensation on the tip of your tongue. However, the same tactic never worked for his cock. Whenever you tried to imagine him abruptly pushing it inside of you — the craving would just become stronger, more unbearable. Fantasies were never enough. You needed the real thing.

“Not that I care what label you’ve decided to put on me tonight,” he continues, obviously hinting at the ‘kinky bastard’ incident. “A lover or an enemy — you’re staying at arm’s length.”

“More like at cane’s length,” you mock, angry eyes swirling that white tie oh his slender neck, but the rope around your wrists stops you from tugging on it to angrily steal a kiss.

“Cane’s length?” curious, Viktor leans over you in his chair, and for a second you’re deceived, rejoicing at the proximity, but he’s quick to remind you what a fool you are, his unhinged expression turning into an entertained one. “You have quite the brilliant mind, darling. We should probably test that out.”

Your teeth instantly sink into your tongue, instinctively scolding yourself for the inability to watch your mouth. Why, just why would you say that?

“Test that out?” you mumble, as your gaze drops to his shoes, unable to handle the intensity of his amber eyes lancing through your face.

“Exactly,” Viktor confirms, slyly biting his lower lip. “You see,” he utters, as his crutch loudly taps on the floor, causing you to shudder, “I don’t think the distance between us is equal to the length of my cane.”

“You can’t be serious,” you snapped at him, sobbing frustratingly. “Viktor, it was just a metaphor.”

“I’m a scientist, my dear. I don’t do metaphors. I do calculations and proven facts,” he utters, placing the crutch into his lap, and you find yourself shamefully jealous of that stupid stick, wishing terribly it was you resting there instead of it.

Viktor gives the cane an evaluating gaze, as if trying to measure it with his eyes, cruel grin never leaving that sharp, currently reachless for you face.

“So, supposedly,” he clears his throat, hoarse voice unbearably seductive as he pensively looks you up and down, taking in the debauched arch of your back, the redness on your aching knees. “I believe that my cane is around… say, thirty five inches long. And you, my dear,” he grabs the cane by its handle again, pointing at your face, left eye closed as if he’s trying to measure something again, torturing you shamelessly, “are still too close.”

The annoyance is impossible to hold in anymore. It’s a pure torment — incredibly hot in a certain perverted way, if you were to be frank, but god did you hate him with every fibre of your being right now, dreaming of fucking this mocking sass out of him, of teaching him a lesson. Viktor deserved to be ruined purely for the way he keeps those skilled hands to himself right now, denying you the oh so craved pleasure.

“Well, I don’t think I’m close enough to you” a protest escapes your pouted lips, but it appeared to have fallen on deaf ears, just like all of your previous, hopelessly useless pleas.

“Eh, debatable,” he utters casually, driving you even more mad with a playful shake of that insufferably smart head. You bite back an angry ‘tsk’, followed by a pissed-off roll of the furious eyes. Viktor is quick to notice the bratty demeanour.

He’s smooth in his roughness. In testing your patience with the insatiability of his own. Something cold quickly brushes your chin, forcibly tilting your head up again, and you huff at the audacity, eyes snapping open as you realise that he’s coaxing you to look him in the eye with his fucking cane.

“The fuck?” you hiss at the cocky jerk, but the way he holds that crutch to your face disarms you, adds even more arousal to the mixture of intense feelings building up inside of you.

“Language, my dear,” he purrs, eyes sparkling with malicious pride, “we‘re in a respectable place.“

He bares the upper row of his teeth, smiling at his own witty remark, and you can swear to god that never in your life have you wanted to wipe a grin off somebody’s face so badly. With a kiss, preferably. But a fist would work just perfectly fine too.

“Oh please,” you hitch in breath when the same hard edge of the cane slips off your chin to fleetingly press into your neck, but something about the uncertainty of Viktor’s movements tells you that he’s not done with you yet, that there’s more ‘foreplay’ to come. “Your lab is not a church.”

“Oh yeah? Why are you kneeling then?” he teases, poking you with that sharp sarcasm. As if a goddamn crutch against your throat is not humiliating enough already.

“I want to slap you.”

Viktor hums, and the tortuous cane traces the curve of your shoulder, causing your breath to hitch in anticipation, the contrast of the cool material with your hot skin stealing a dreamy gasp from you.

“Slap me?” he murmurs, enjoying the way you suffer for him. Because of him. “Well, too bad I’m that good at tying knots.”

“You’re an awful person.”

“Oh, don’t flatter me like that.”

“No, seriously, why don’t you just allow me to make you feel good?” you practically cry out, arching your hips in a desperate attempt to get closer to him. But the cane is still there, gently dipped into your collarbone to keep you in place.

“You’re already making me feel good,” he whispers, pushing you away, and all you can do is groan, squirming like you’re facing grim death. But considering the current intensity of your overstimulation, that death might actually turn into quite the real one. In the guise of this devilishly handsome tease, which would make it the worst and the best way to go at the same time.

“But I can make you feel even better,” you beg, half-lidded, exhausted and so beautiful in this perverted state of such earnest vulnerability. Just precious. Sacred even, if the situation wasn’t so sinful. “Viktor, please. Aren’t you done torturing me? I could do so much better than just grovel here.”

“Perhaps,” he presumes, but you know him and his undying love for the eye-fucking too well. Hell, he might just adore this humbling staring even more than having actual sex with you. “But I would rather enjoy the exhibition for a little longer.”

You roll your eyes again. A rather dangerous choice of a reaction, because the crutch in his hand abruptly taps on your shoulder, drawing your attention back to his glistening eyes.

“Roll your eyes at me again and I’ll make it two cane’s length,” he threatens, and you bite your lip to suppress a pitiful moan so hard, that your teeth leave two crimson marks on it’s tender flesh.

And that sexy, secretly favourite torture of yours starts all over again.

[elthadriel]

Clone Bang promo post!! 🎉

Team 4: Author: @elthadriel Artist: @chocomars Beta: @trudemaethien

Posting on December 17 to the Clone Bang collection on Ao3!

@clonebang

Five Times Cody Didn't Score and One Time He Did

Summary: Everyone needs a coping mechanism to deal with the horrifying reality of being a replaceable cog in the machinery of a galactic war. For Cody, it's playing hopscotch with the line between professionalism and insubordination. For Rex, it's an irredeemable obsession with space football. For their friends, it's apparently playing peanut gallery to their relationship.

Snapshots of Cody and Rex’s relationship throughout the war and beyond overshadowed by Rex’s love of limmie and Cody’s inability to understand it.

Snippet:

“Blue has my comms for the next twelve hours,” Cody reminds Rex. 

Rex hums in acknowledgement and doesn’t look away from the limmie game.

Cody will fix that soon enough.

He pulls off his blacks, adding them onto the pile of dirty clothes on his chair, and doesn’t bother putting on new ones. He climbs onto the bed behind Rex, draping himself over Rex’s shoulders, kissing his neck. Rex has been waiting in Cody’s bed for him for hours and Cody intends to cash in on that unspoken promise. 

“Give me a second, Codes,” Rex says, shrugging his shoulders to try and displace him.

“I gave you all morning,” Cody reminds him, unwilling to be pushed off so easily. He closes his mouth under Rex’s ear, letting his teeth press into delicate skin. Rex moves again, elbowing Cody.

“The game wasn’t on then,” he says.

It occurs to Cody that Rex might actually be serious. He unlatches his mouth from Rex to stare at him. 

Rex barely glances at him. “It won’t be long,” he says. 

Cody allows himself to be pushed off from behind Rex this time, moving around to sit beside him. His eyes are unwillingly pulled to the movement on the screen. It looks the same as limmie games always look. 

“Rex,” Cody says, tensing his muscles as subtly as he can to try and entice Rex’s attention.

Rex ignores him. 

“I’m on leave, Rex.”

Rex hums, eyes locked on his datapad.

“Rex,” Cody repeats. “I want to have sex with the blissful knowledge that I won’t have to tuck my hard on away to go hear about how a bunch of people just got shot.”

Rex at least has the courtesy to laugh. “After the game, I promise.” 

Cody sits, utterly incredulous for a long moment; a long moment in which Rex pays him no attention whatever. He flops backwards, staring up at the bulkhead. Rex pats his thigh, in a way that doesn’t convince Cody that Rex is particularly concerned by his plight.

Cody could wrestle the datapad off Rex. That would be childish. Cody doesn’t need to lower himself to such methods.

“Rex—”

Rex hushes him.

[fairlyfairybirch]

The Parallel Dynamics in Smallville and Detective Conan: From First Love (Lana/Ran) to Evolving Bonds (Lois/Haibara)

[DISCLAIMER: I literally wrote a paper about it but guys THIS IS JUST FOR FUN. I am not delusional, I know how the story will end, this is just an analysis on how I think DC ending could be more interesting, presenting another similar dynamic. Special thanks to ChatGPT]

In both Smallville and Detective Conan, relationships play a central role in the character development of the protagonists, Clark Kent (Superman) and Shinichi Kudo (Conan). Each series showcases the emotional journey of these characters as they navigate the complexity of their dual lives, balancing love, responsibility, and secrecy. The relationships Clark has with Lana Lang and Lois Lane, and Shinichi has with Ran Mouri and Haibara Ai, offer intriguing parallels that explore themes of first love, growing trust, and unfulfilled romance. Here’s an in-depth analysis of how these dynamics mirror one another, focusing on two key relationships: Clark/Lana vs. Shinichi/Ran and Clark/Lois vs. Conan/Haibara.

1. Clark and Lana (Smallville) vs. Shinichi and Ran (Detective Conan): The Childhood First Love

First Love and Childhood Friendship

At the heart of both Smallville and Detective Conan is the deeply rooted bond between the protagonists and their childhood friends, Lana Lang and Ran Mouri.

Lana and Clark (Smallville): From the start of Smallville, Lana is established as Clark's first love. Having grown up in the same small town, they share a history that forms the emotional foundation of their relationship. For Clark, Lana represents the idealized version of love—someone he admires but struggles to connect with fully due to the secret he harbors about his extraterrestrial origins and growing powers as Superman.

Ran and Shinichi (Detective Conan): Similarly, Ran Mouri is Shinichi’s childhood friend and first love. Like Lana, Ran embodies the simplicity and innocence of Shinichi’s past before he was transformed into Conan. Shinichi and Ran’s bond is built on years of friendship, and his affection for her is clear from the outset of the series. However, much like Clark, Shinichi is forced to keep his true identity hidden, creating emotional distance despite their deep connection.

The Innocent and Pure Romance

The relationships between Clark/Lana and Shinichi/Ran are marked by a pure, almost idealized form of love.

Clark and Lana: Their relationship is filled with unspoken feelings and longing. Clark’s need to protect Lana by keeping his identity as Superman a secret creates a tension that prevents them from fully connecting. Lana remains unaware of Clark’s true identity for a large portion of the series, and this barrier between them complicates their ability to have an open, honest relationship.

Shinichi and Ran: Likewise, Shinichi’s transformation into Conan forces him to keep his identity a secret from Ran, despite his obvious feelings for her. This unspoken love and the emotional restraint they both show mirrors Clark and Lana’s early relationship. Ran often expresses worry and concern for Shinichi (unaware he is Conan), and their love, while genuine, remains unfulfilled due to the circumstances.

Obstacles and Unfulfilled Love

In both series, external obstacles prevent these first-love relationships from reaching their full potential.

Clark and Lana: Clark’s secret life as Superman becomes the main source of conflict between him and Lana. His fear of putting her in danger and his responsibilities as a hero create a distance that they struggle to overcome. Though they share moments of closeness, the inherent limitations in their relationship eventually lead them to drift apart.

Shinichi and Ran: Shinichi’s inability to reveal his identity as Conan is the major obstacle in his relationship with Ran. Just as Clark struggles with the consequences of his double life, Shinichi faces a similar dilemma—how to protect Ran while keeping her in the dark about his true situation. This secrecy creates a barrier between them, leaving their love largely unfulfilled, despite their deep connection.

Emotional Anchor and Grounding Force

Both Lana and Ran act as emotional anchors for Clark and Shinichi, representing the stability and simplicity of their pasts.

Lana for Clark: For Clark, Lana symbolizes his desire for a normal, peaceful life. She is a reminder of his more innocent days before he fully embraced his role as Superman. However, as Clark grows and accepts his responsibilities, it becomes clear that Lana is not the partner he needs to navigate his future.

Ran for Shinichi: Similarly, Ran represents normalcy for Shinichi—a link to his life before becoming Conan. She is his emotional anchor, grounding him in the present even as he faces the dangers of the Black Organization. Despite their strong emotional bond, Shinichi’s secret life continues to prevent them from fully realizing their romantic potential.

The Shift Away from First Love

In Smallville, Lana eventually moves on from Clark as she comes to realize that their relationship cannot work given Clark’s responsibilities as Superman. This mirrors the potential shift in Detective Conan, where Shinichi, though still emotionally tied to Ran, may face a growing distance due to his ongoing life as Conan.

Clark and Lana: Lana’s eventual departure allows Clark to grow emotionally and find a partner who fully understands his dual life—Lois Lane. Lana’s role as the first love is important, but ultimately, it is not meant to last.

Shinichi and Ran: While Detective Conan remains ongoing, Ran remains the central love interest. However, the series introduces an alternative dynamic with Haibara Ai, creating the possibility for a similar evolution in Shinichi’s relationships. Just as Clark moved from Lana to Lois, Conan’s growing bond with Haibara presents an interesting parallel.

2. Clark and Lois (Smallville) vs. Conan and Haibara (Detective Conan): From Friction to Deep Connection

Enemies/Friends to Lovers Dynamic

Whereas the relationships with Lana and Ran represent childhood innocence and first love, the dynamics between Clark and Lois and Conan and Haibara begin with tension and evolve into deep mutual respect and emotional connection.

Lois and Clark (Smallville): When Lois Lane first enters Clark’s life in Smallville, there is an immediate clash of personalities. Lois is independent, headstrong, and unapologetically herself, while Clark is still learning to balance his responsibilities. This friction, however, gives way to a deep bond over time, as Lois becomes Clark’s confidant and eventual romantic partner.

Conan and Haibara: Conan and Haibara’s relationship starts with suspicion. Haibara was a former member of the Black Organization responsible for shrinking Shinichi, which naturally leads to some initial tension. However, over time, Haibara becomes Conan’s most important ally and friend, sharing his secret and providing crucial support. Like Clark and Lois, they move from a more antagonistic beginning to a strong, trusting friendship.

Shift from Hostility to Friendship

In both relationships, friction and rivalry gradually give way to a deep and meaningful connection.

Lois and Clark: As they spend more time together, Lois becomes Clark’s emotional rock. She challenges him in ways that Lana never did, pushing him to become a better version of himself. Their witty banter and mutual support are key aspects of their dynamic, and their eventual romance feels earned because of the evolution of their friendship.

Conan and Haibara: Conan and Haibara’s partnership also evolves. As two people who share a traumatic experience—being shrunk by the Black Organization—they develop a bond based on trust and understanding. Haibara, though initially cold and distant, slowly opens up to Conan, and their friendship deepens as they rely on each other for survival.

Becoming Romantic Partners: Chemistry and "Spice"

Both pairs exhibit undeniable chemistry.

Lois and Clark: One of the most compelling aspects of the Clark-Lois relationship is their chemistry. Even before they become a couple, their interactions are filled with tension, humor, and emotional depth. Lois’s fiery nature contrasts with Clark’s calm demeanor, creating a dynamic full of “spice.” This slow-burn romance is what eventually makes their relationship so satisfying when it finally develops.

Conan and Haibara: While not yet romantic, Conan and Haibara share a similar chemistry. Haibara’s quiet intelligence and reserved nature contrast with Conan’s more impulsive and action-oriented approach, creating a dynamic full of subtle tension and unspoken emotions. Much like Clark and Lois, their contrasting personalities complement each other, and there’s an underlying potential for something more, should the series explore that path.

Room for Evolution: Chemistry and Emotional Depth

Clark and Lois’s relationship became one of the most beloved aspects of Smallville because it balanced emotional growth, chemistry, and lighthearted moments. The same potential exists in Conan and Haibara’s relationship.

Clark and Lois’s Evolution: Over time, Lois becomes Clark’s perfect partner, both emotionally and as someone who fully understands his secret identity. Their dynamic is not just about love, but mutual respect and shared values.

Conan and Haibara’s Potential: Likewise, Conan and Haibara’s bond has grown deeper over time. Their shared experiences with the Black Organization give their relationship an emotional weight that goes beyond friendship. Much like Lois, Haibara understands Conan in a way that no one else does. The chemistry between them, combined with their deep trust and reliance on each other, creates a compelling dynamic that the series could explore further.

Conclusion: The Case for Developing the CoAi Relationship

The relationships between Clark/Lana and Shinichi/Ran provide a foundation of first love, while Clark/Lois and Conan/Haibara offer the potential for deeper, more evolved connections. In Smallville, the shift from Clark and Lana’s idealized, yet unfulfilled romance to Clark and Lois’s chemistry-filled, balanced partnership was one of the series' greatest strengths.

In Detective Conan, the relationship between Conan and Haibara stands at a similar crossroads. Their chemistry, emotional depth, and shared trauma make them an intriguing duo, and much like Lois and Clark, their dynamic could evolve into something truly special. The author has already laid the groundwork for a slow-burn tension between them, and exploring this further would not only add emotional richness to the story but also provide a satisfying contrast to the more traditional first-love storyline with Ran.

In the end, developing the CoAi relationship in a similar way to how Smallville developed Clark and Lois could elevate Detective Conan’s romantic dynamics, offering fans a well-written, evolving partnership full of chemistry, trust, and emotional growth—much like Clark and Lois’s iconic relationship.

This comprehensive analysis highlights the similarities and potential shifts in both Smallville and Detective Conan, particularly in how relationships evolve from first love to more complex dynamics, emphasizing the potential richness of the Conan and Haibara pairing.

[oboy-me]

𒁍 Duty & Decorum ▸▸ Barbatos

▸▸ It isn't that Barbatos does not love you; his station simply demands him to maintain a rigorous appearance... as long as he is witnessed by anyone beyond just yourself, at least.

"The key to successfully dating Barbatos is patience," Diavolo once told you on the sly.

You always wondered about how distant the butler seemed to be, despite the conflicting vocalizations of care and love for you — why he always spoke so candidly in private, but never around others. Yet such clues were in a way the answer itself; Barbatos simply could not reveal his feelings as openly as everyone else can.

He is a royal butler, Diavolo's most trusted advisor and only friend before Lucifer arrived. He has always lived such a life of service as far as you could tell, backed up by his own confessions of his inability to shake those habits and desires. The reason he fails to act as anything else is because he knows nothing else; as enigmatic as he is, the demon is equally as easy to learn to read.

You started with little acts of physical service to him: you helped organize some of the files he had to put away, you brought silverware to him to minimize the time he needed to walk between spots, you helped carry his orders around the castle when he was in the middle of reorganizing Diavolo's schedule to make things fit with time for rest. Barbatos noticed every single one, and you could tell by the subtle way his eyes crinkled in delight, his smile sitting just a little bit brighter on his lips. It would not break decorum, but it would tell you everything you needed to know.

After a while of this routine, you had thought to use your speaking segment at the RAD dinner party's round of toasting to lavish the butler with his overdue praise for all he does in the shadows, for all his little efforts and greater sacrifices. However, you ended up being caught off-guard by what you heard fall from Barbatos' lips before you had your turn.

"'Ere I pass the floor to Lucifer, I would devote a moment to Y/N. Y/N has been tirelessly at work in ways that even I had not anticipated, taking up the initiative and opportunity to lift miniscule tasks from my shoulders to allow me time to focus on the larger priorities at hand. I cannot understate how valuable Y/N is, both in the service that has been rendered, and in the company that has been provided. It would please me to no end to continue to share these wonderful memories with you, a sentiment I suspect is echoed by all present. … Thank you, dearly."

The way he had watched your face with eyes that practically flooded with nothing but unspoken adoration and admiration for you, the purposeful way he worded certain parts of his speech...

It did not break decorum, and that was exactly what made it so meaningful. He spoke from the heart in a way that still obeyed the requirements of his position, skirting the lines as close as he possibly could, risking so much just to tell you in his own way that he loves you so dearly.

Of course you knew that later when there were no prying ears or eyes, he would set the title of butler aside for a moment to lavish you in sweetened words and needy kisses, unable to hold himself back when no one else could see him acting so "inappropriately."

[thequietmanno1]

TheLreads, Vigilantes ch 92, Replies Part 2

1) “Now, I’m sorry AfO, but you are probably the reason of the title. If there is one person who has been around long enough to see it from the start, you are definitely the reason of such a “emotionally charged” title.”- The irony of AFO going on about the interplay between a person’s will and their Quirk to Kurogiri, a person he zombified and re-wrote his will in order to forcibly create a Quirk bound to his will even without him possessing it, cuts hard. Kurogiri clearly disagrees with some of AFO’s actions here, but he’s been hard-wired into unconditional loyalty to the man, so he can’t debate back to him about it. AFO may as well be talking to a brick wall here, but that’s the point, He doesn’t want to be proven wrong or have others argue against him- we saw how he reacted to that when Yoichi pointed out how Villains always bite the dust in the end.

Instead, AFO is just making a surface-level appearance of making an interesting and theological debate with Kurogiri, allowing him the satisfaction of hearing himself talk and being the smartest person in the room without the chance of anybody speaking up to prove him wrong. 2) “Well, that speech is a bit hilarious in hindsight considering that the strongest wills in the whole series are from Stain and Shigaraki, two villains, but also because that’s completely overlooking the whole stealing and destroying and murdering aspect that gives the general villains the title of villains

Yeah they don’t call Muscle a villain because his resolve isn’t firm, it is because he murder people”- The underlying, but unspoken cavat to the argument here is that said will must be one that falls in line with what society expects of them, must serve a specially-carved out niche in the world to uphold the semblance of normality that everybody puts as tantamount over individual suffering. Both Jin and Toga are examples of what happens when a will doesn’t align with that conformity and how their Quirks either isolated them from others or went unstable due to their isolation and inability to be helped.  Spinner is likewise isolated because of the way his Quirk makes him look, which in turn lead to his good will being twisted into aiding Tomura in his current destructive path of carnage throughout society.

Tenko is another example with his Quirk literally tearing down the foundations of everything around him, fuelled in the present by his unstoppable willpower to spread that destruction everywhere and take engage against the faceless masses who upheld the system that punished him for simply being who he is. If there was somebody who recognised the problem and tried to change the system to be more accepting towards them, they might all have had a chance, but it seems only AFO, with his long years of watching Quirk society develop, has really noticed this structural flaw in the system… and he’s not interested in fixing the problem, merely seeing how long it takes before the building comes down and chaos overflows, even helping it along directly by the present day.

3) “That people don’t deserve quirks that might hurt them or others around them and thus you are merely doing a public service taking those dangerous elements away from society? That you are just a hero trying to help the world? Do tell me AfO, I’m intrigued by your sudden shift into an interesting shadowy figure of evil in the shadows.”- The argument is set up such that he could claim this, but as he notes by the end, what interests him isn’t the good his Quirk allows him to do, but the evil – the ability to interfere with Quirks could allow him to correct these imbalances but instead he goes for the opposite approach, and deliberately sets them unstable just to watch what happens, and get his evening entertainment that way. As All Might’s counterpart, he too has great powers, but he will always, always choose to use them for evil, because that’s who he is on a fundamental level, as he outlined to him.

(Vigilantes ch 86)

4) “I feel like we`re end up as another AfO weird and unexplained scheme”- That was a good feeling, although, this venture does actually give us some interesting insight into AFO’s viewpoint and goals that the main series hasn’t yet, because he’s deliberately keeping those goals obscured from the heroes to maximise his chances of victory.

(Vigilantes ch 86)

5) “But for real, why bring a flashback right here? I`m curious, because this sorta kills the pacing we were building up to. This fight might take another chapter, and then only in the next one we`ll finally get to Koichi, and considering this is all relating to Knuckles and his cop pal, I doubt whatever info we learn here will even get back to our main character.”- Not Vigilantes’ main character, but from what we see of AFO’s personality and viewpoint here, at the time it came out (which was before/during the PLF war I believe) it was actually quite informative as to what kind of person he actually is underneath the mystique, and what he personally means to achieve through all these experiments and attempts to push the boundaries of what can be achieved through one’s natural Quirks.

(Vigilantes ch 91) 6) “ Vigilantes? Vigilantes. Oh we’re approaching the fabled 100 chapter, we’re so close now, and also really close to the end, which is weird, because we’re focusing on a flashback which doesn’t add anything to the current conflict of the plot, it is almost like they were padding things because otherwise we wouldn’t get to 100 chapters… I wonder… “-  I generally get the feeling overall that this flashback’s purpose was to give more insight into what AFO’s goals with the VF and plans were meant to be, since it’s pretty clear that Koichi has no hope whatsoever of surviving a direct confrontation with him, hence why he stays in the far background of these events – as a result, since Koichi’s main opposition comes from the personal animosity of his main henchman, we needed something like this to let us understand his motivations – which in turn allows us to get a better grasp as to what he’s currently plotting in MHA, since that’s the culmination of his end-goal whilst this was just a side-project feeding into that.

7) “Huh- Wait, AfO, did you gave them quirks? Because it didn’t looked like you gave them trigger, it wouldn’t make sense considering there’s a lot of it in the air, but even so, they seem to be affected by the post-potato brand of trigger, the one we saw being deployed didn’t got them to rage this much- why am I even bothering after seeing thin might let us just continue”- I think it’s as much to illustrate AFO’s point- that Quirks going out of control and unstable makes the ‘hosts’ for the various powers likewise unstable and violent, even without a normal inclination towards attacking others, trigger likewise enhances the powers and makes them stronger at the cost of becoming unstable, leading to rampages, so AFO sticking a bunch of different powers into people makes them lash out in a frenzy from the rapid and sudden changes. As to why nobody questioned why people suddenly had an entirely different set of abilities in this situation…I dunno, maybe AFO didn’t give them Quirks and just directly meddled with their original ones to boost them stronger? It’s a plot hole, but at this point the road is fuller of holes than swiss cheese, we’ve just gotta stick the bumpy ride out to the end. 8) “Did they fucking got through the police?! I know I was joking about them doing jack shit but what the fuck they didn’t even put up any fight”- I guess complacency in All Might’s era was really pronounced, huh? You might not even think the police existed at all. “…

Like, ten seconds? fifteen at most. Honestly AfO, I’m worried about your sanity, it’s almost like you don’t know him after all those years.“- But that’s 10-15 seconds he can spend going, “ok, time’s up” and warp Hood out of the building. Not much of a delay, but arguably just enough. After All, All Might will need to converse with the officers on the scene after subduing the villains to know where to go next, so that’s a little extra time on top of what he’s buying. 9) “haaaaa….

Ah Kurogiri, that was so funny, I didn’t knew you had such a advanced sense of humor”- Actually….to be honest, I was kinda expecting this from the flashback on a first-time reading. All Might and AFO clearly haven’t had their disfiguring encounter yet, and given AFO is in hiding right now whislt he sets the pieces up for his eventual endgame, there had to be something that lead All Might to track him down for their brutal clash. I was expecting Knuckles, with his deductive abilities, would be involved somehow in identifying the clues All Might missed to point the number one in the right direction to find AFO when he’s not quite prepared for him and thus force him into an early confrontation, that leads to his near-death, thus allowing Knuckles to play a minor but important role in their fated clash. AFO having a very direct hand in this chaotic event also works for clueing in All Might that he’s on the trail of his arch-foe but I am expecting Knuckles to play an important part in that clash – which further contributes to AFO’s viciousness towards him when they meet again years later.

10) “You know, this whole “AfO was after O'Clock’ quirk” isn’t exactly that much of a big dramatic twist as this manga is trying to make it look like to be honest. Not only because we know he will get it, I mean.”- I don’t think it’s intended as a twist, but rather clarification as to why AFO stole Knuckles’ Quirk in the first place if he failed to do so here – him sticking it out despite the risks of All Might’s interference shows that he really doesn’t like cutting and running from a situation if it implies he’s suffered an actual loss from it – or at least, not one he can recover from with a back-up plan, which he doesn’t have in place for a minor operation like this. Therefore, successfully stealing Knuckles’ Quirk would be an appropriate means of him being able to retreat with a ‘victory’ he can be satisfied with. Doesn’t explain why he left him alive after eventually stealing the Quirk though, but I guess he just really wanted to rub his eventual success in Knuckles’ face at the time. (Vigilantes ch ???)

11) “Oh boy, we’re getting more info about the operation, and it pretty much points towards what we already discussed. Not that it proves anything, but it shows that someone like AfO could’ve been behind all this, even if only tangentially.

If this was one of his operations from the begging then it could’ve been something minor that he saw the potential later on.”-Yeah,  I was fully expecting the actual overseer of the trigger ring to be  somebody within AFO’s organisation, a lieutenant on par in ranking with Ujiko and Kurogiri, if perhaps lesser-ranked than them, who was likely taken out and abandoned by AFO after Koichi and the rest dismantled his operations, but not before the fruits of his research were passed along to Ujiko to better improve his Nomu, project, which AFO has a high level of interest in seeing completed for his own reasons, besides keeping the mad scientist happy with expanding the scope of his research. Didn’t quite pan out that way, but part of me really wishes it had. (Vigilantes ch 28)

12) “MY, WHAT A HAPPY ENDING AND IN NO WAY LEFT A BITTERSWEET COMMENT OVER THE END OF AN ERA AND THE START OF ANOTHER, WE’RE NOT BNHA, WE CAN’T DO THAT AFTER THE ALL-POWERFUL FATHER FIGURE TAKES DOWN HIS GREATEST ENEMY, RIGHT?

RIGHT? (: ”

Well, technically speaking, Knuckle’s not even done that yet. In the lead-up to this, the parallels between Knuckle, Koichi, Izuku and All Might indicated that whoever’s behind the trigger ring was somebody with a personal grudge against Knuckle not inferior to AFO’s own one with All Might- we can see that in how he used his daughter, targeted his wife, and butchered his own legacy through passing his quirk onto a psychotic maniac like No6. These are all events that damage Knuckle emotionally, beyond even the life-threatening painful injuries he accumulates, and it seemed clear that the leader was somebody with a bone to pick with O’clock, to the point they’ve turned the former hero in a veritable shell of his old self, even if he’s put himself back together well enough. The thing is, now we know it’s AFO, he just doesn’t quite fit the profile, because Knuckle is that far beneath him in terms of threat or the damage he could do to his operations, no matter how hard he tries to, especially now he’s Quirkless. AFO is certainly Knuckle’s arch-foe, but it’s clearly just a one-sided thing, and it seems bizarre that AFO would go out of his way to torment an already-beaten foe he stole the Quirk from – like, all the resources and such he’s putting at Quin and Nomura’s feet to enact the experiments, which has the side-effect of tormenting Knuckles in different ways as a bonus, it clearly seems like AFO is losing more than he gains by doing this, so I though he couldn’t be the overseer, because it’s just so un-pragmatic in contrast to his intricately-laid plans we’re seeing unfold in the present – and yet, now we know he is, I just can’t fathom his motivation for going this far to spite Knuckles

13) “And that’s then end of the chapter, and… 

Well, that was an interesting speech from AfO, I’ll give you that. The rest of it…”- The difference between Furuhashi writing and Horikoshi writing?

@thelreads

[corvidmagicae]

ooc lore question for you to make a hc post about, how the heck do witches manage to do things like necromancy, being liches, general fucking around with life and death without pissing off Xerneas, Yveltal or Zygarde?

When you have the entire ask answer completed, and you are actively getting warned by tumblr that you are at the character limit. and then tumblr glitches and makes you lose the ENTIRE POST.... ANYWAYS, the answer is VERY CAREFULLY. Just kidding.

Truth is, they are incredibly aware that the balance trio might have opinions regarding their abilities, and the majority of their belief system and unspoken rules are set up regarding just that. At least, amongst the Kalosian sect, who actively worship them.

It is their belief that their evolution and extended lifespans are a gift given by those legends - or at least, they've been allowed to keep them. And that if they wish to continue keeping them, they need to give credit where credit is due, and be respectful of their creators.

It is their belief that Xerneas gave them their extended lifespans, and in exchange they respect and worship it. And Yveltal will take them away to it's side when it feels their time has come. They can play a cat and mouse game with it if they so choose, but ultimately they must be gracious losers when the time comes. It is not a true loss - just an inevitable change in department and direct supervisor. Zygarde is the ultimate deciding voice, and it's decisions are final - those who follow it ensure that the rest are following the proper balance of life and death, and that their great power is being met with appropriate responsibility. They view themselves as servants to the gods, a position they've willingly put themselves in, as payment for the gift they've been given. And that if they wish to keep their position, they need to safeguard it from those who'd misuse it.

Now, this is entirely a community's personal belief - whether or not it's the actual truth is another story, and one i leave up to those who roleplay those entities. They could very well be the servants of the legends, or the legends may be actively annoyed by them! Or they may not care at all. It's first and foremost a tale told by elders, to explain how they got their abilities and why they need to take responsibility for their own actions.

Not all mages follow these beliefs either - not all regions have the balance trio, so their belief systems and stories passed down may be entirely different and dependent on their own local legends. And not all mages are respectful of their peers. Some are active threats to the community at large, viewing their own kind as stepping stones or power batteries for their own ends... or may be detrimental to the world at large, irresponsible with their abilities and uncaring of what gets destroyed or injured so long as they achieve their own desires. Humans with no knowledge of these old beliefs can be a threat as well, as they may try to achieve a mage's ability with no respect or regard to the limitations or desire to maintain balance in the world around them.

It's also important to note that most mages don't actually have the ability to manipulate life itself - mages who practice necromancy are at most able to manipulate the spirit, often communicating with the deceased and respecting their wishes. Those who mess with remains don't truly bring back life to old bones - they just re-animate organic matter. There's no true life there. True ressurection, like with AZ's Floette, is the realm of the gods, the realm of Xerneas itself, and is thus beyond the average mage's ability. Necromancers (or ghost-type mages) are among the most polite and responsible amongst the society, due to general respect of their abilities and being hyper-aware of the consequences of their actions.

Now, some mages may be able to tap that deep into the current of life energy. Most mages don't stick their hands that deep, either out of personal restraint or inability to reach that far. But those who can revive or take lives at a single touch are reverred as legends even amongst their own kind. They are noticeable anomalies., even amongst their own kind.

It is also important to note that the majority of mages who follow these beliefs don't mess with the lifespans of others - they only mess with their own, using themselves as guinea pigs before attempting to use others. And those who do mess with the lifespans of others have rules and regulations they follow regarding it, even if those laws may seem nonsensical. This is all in an attempt to make sure they aren't pissing off the legends who safeguard those domains, and it's the mages who attempt to crudely break down those doors without care, or who use other living beings as guinea pigs before attempting things on themselves, that are generally the ones regarded as dangerous amongst their own society.

Even bridgette, who does actively mess with the lifespans of her victims by locking their ability to age in tandem with her own lifespan, as they are under the effects of her own magic until released from their position... won't interfere if Yveltal comes calling for them, and will actively try to safeguard those birds and keep them safe from harm until someone with a higher position of power tells her to do otherwise. She won't attempt to make them take a fall for her, and she will keep them safe until it is time to let them go. By tying the extent of their lifespan to be equal to hers, then they are her responsibility until their true masters come calling for them, and she has accepted that.

The general rule of thumb amongst mage society is that you can do something dangerous, but also that you are responsible for your own actions. you have to be willing to confront the consequences of those actions on your own. You cannot scapegoat someone else to take the fall for you.

ie: a lich can manipulate their own lifespan, but should not test their experiments on others if they are not willing to test them first on themselves. if a mage evolves into a lich, they understand that they are allowed to exist because of Xerneas and Yveltal's mercy, and should respect their wishes should one of the trio appear before them.

Some mages of course see their evolutions and extended lifespans as dodging responsibility rather than accepting responsibility - be careful of those. Those ones are the dangerous ones.

[dxncingxnmyown]

He has no expectations of Joanna. But he is prepared for anything. A loud, melancholic sob that brings her to the ground. Her fists to his chest, condemning him as a liar and a fool. A stollid, almost immovable force in the storm of news (which seemed the most like her). What did it say about Javier that he's seen it all before? The bearer of bad news whose bequeathed news of his loved one's death to his family, twice over? There's a sheen of unhappy satisfaction as he nods, confirming her words. The White Plague. A terrible, incurable, unshakeable illness that would take the woman they both loved from them, completely.

"You know why." Isolde was beautiful, kind, and impressive. But of her virtues, her kindness would be the one that killed her. An inability to every put herself first, even in a matter such as this. And so, Javier takes the plunge for her, even if it meant betraying an unspoken promise made to her. "But I thought your family should know." He would want to, if it were Laurie or his other siblings. He'd want to know everything. But her second question is more difficult, and in the absence of better news, he shifts forward. She'd take comfort in others, like Evelyn or her betrothed. Yet just once - he bridges the hostility between them, offering a hearty embrace. "Not long enough. Months. Maybe years, if she can ward off infection. But she..." She is determined to tend to the ill, to travel where King Graeme needed her. Even in death, Isolde refused to shirk duty. "She wants things to be unchanged." But it is already changed.

Joanna was smart, schooled, educated. What she hadn't learned she discovered on her own terms. Impatience and pride worked hand-in-hand, this being the one avenue where it wasn't her downfall. Consumption was not an unfamiliar term in society, but she knew what it was in its most basic form. "The White Plague," she breathed, named due to the paleness of its victims. It is only when she can identify it that it sets in, her spine and body vibrating, resisting the change. She opened her mouth to say that he was a liar, saying whatever he can to get her on his side, but no path lead to any logical conclusion.

What did make sense? Javier's entire being, reacting to losing the woman he loves. It was all the proof in the world, yet she pushed it away and away and away, unable to shed a single tear, yet her soul hollowed from the inside out until her face grew still and stoic. "Why did she not tell me herself...?" was the first question she asked on a very long list that was racing through her mind. But she damn well knew the answer to that, which made it all the more true. She knew her sister like the back of her hand. Isolde could never bring herself to do it, to make herself the center of attention throughout her family, throughout all of Scotland. Joanna didn't even want to think about the political implications whilst the shock had barely begun to set in. "How..." she is caught on the words. How does one even learn to ask how long their sister has to live? She drew in a breath to find it, because there was no turning back from it now. After all, she was Isolde's brave little sister. "How much time do we have..?"

[butlervol6]

the baby talk | dad(to be) austin x reader

previous part here!!

pairing: austin x fem!reader

summary: reader finally feels ready to have a baby with austin….but worries the timing might not work out

warnings/notes: some angst? (reader overthinking, s/o all my fellow anxiety babies), a tiny tiny bit suggestive at the end. so sorry this took so long, the last month has been eventful to say the least and i’m just getting time to finish this. thank you SO SO much for over 900(!!!WHAT) notes on my first work and so many followers, i never expected so many people to enjoy my writing. i’m toying with the idea of attempting to write smut, lmk your thoughts (i would make it a separate pt so the under18 can still enjoy the rest of the series)!! thank you all again, send me requests/messages/questions i love talking to ya’ll, and ENJOY PART 2!!

words: 2.2k

On the drive home from Ashley’s you were buzzing from the excitement of meeting Jupiter as well as the anticipation of telling Austin that you felt ready to start trying for a baby. You knew he was going to be ecstatic, it was obvious that while he was always extremely supportive and understanding of your point of view the last time you spoke about it, there was a part of him that was initially disappointed when you expressed your decision to wait to have kids. He was good at masking it, not wanting to make you feel bad for a completely rational and understandable decision, but you knew him well enough to see past his facade and couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for being the one to put starting a family on hold. 

That disappointment for him and guilt from yourself didn’t last long though, as he landing his ‘Elvis’ role no more than six months after that conversation took place. Now, two years later, you could not have imagined trying to navigate a little one during the stress of the pandemic and a filming process like Elvis. Despite being very stable and annoyingly in love your entire relationship, never once considering separating, being newlyweds was still incredible stressful during that time so you knew you both shared a mutual, unspoken feeling of relief for the decision you made.

Looking over at your husband as he drove, you start to try and come up with a way to approach the conversation when you got home, wanting to make it as special as possible. Usually you pride yourself on your creativity as well as your apt for being excellent at surprises, but in this moment there was not a single idea in your head. You were completely perplexed, and growing increasingly frustrated, at your inability to come up with a suitable way to start the conversation. This must have been evident on your face as Austin glanced over and caught you looking his way, a small frown on your face and eyebrows pulled together in deep thought,

“Baby?” You, so consumed by your spiralling thinking, don’t notice when first he addresses you,  “Y/N?” He places a hand on yours resting on the center console, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles to gently bring your focus back to reality, “What’s going on in your head darlin’? You’ve been so quiet this whole drive–makin’ me nervous.” He drawls, attention shifting between the road and you, waiting for your answer. You try to quickly recover, as to not tip him off about the impending conversation,

“Sorry baby, I’m alright. I think the adrenaline and excitement from the day is finally wearing off so I’m a little tired.” Austin eyes you, not quite convinced but decides not to push it any further. You can see this fact evident on his face so you smoothly change the subject so he doesn’t have room to figure out the real reason you’re acting weird, “What about you? Did you have a good day Uncle Austin? Was it everything you dreamed it would be?” Being reminded of his picture perfect day, surrounded by his favourite girls, immediately distracts him from your odd behaviour,

“It was everything I imagined and more. Jupiter is just perfect–I can’t believe she’s real, and finally seeing Ashley again after so long was perfect, and you being there with me to share it all was-“

“Perfect?” You find his excited rambling extremely sweet but you can’t help but tease him. He bites his bottom lip smiling, slightly embarrassed by his own words. You lean over, grabbing the far side of his face to press a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth before speaking again, “I’m not trying to embarrass you, love. I’m just teasing you, I loved seeing you so happy today.” You absentmindedly smooth your thumb back and forth along his cheekbone as you speak. The loving gesture and kind words make him smile, ducking his head down slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist that hovers near his mouth,

“I was so happy. I am so happy, y/n. Everything just seems to be working out lately—my career, my family and friends, you. I just can’t believe it all.” You can feel your cheeks start to hurt from how large your smile is. After experiencing firsthand the type of stress Austin had been under the last two years; completely immersing himself in his role, being away from all of his family and friends, the pandemic, you were overjoyed that he was finally feeling the beginnings of the pay off of it all. And you knew this would only increase as the press for the movie and the fan reaction began. 

It was at this thought that your happiness and excitement momentarily faltered. Since your realization at Ashley’s, you had failed to fully considered how much was going to change after Elvis came out. From watching the transformation your husband made, you knew that people were finally going to take notice of him and, as a result, his popularity was going to sky-rocket. There wasn’t a cell in your body that didn’t want that for Austin, he deserves to finally be recognize as the incredible actor and person that he is, but you did start to worry that having a baby in the mids of it all these new changes could be just as bad as having one in the middle of filming. To quell your small disappointment and spike in anxiety, you lean your head on Austin’s shoulder as he turns onto the last road to get to your house. 

It’s obvious now that something more is wrong than what you originally let on so Austin presses a kiss to your hairline and mumbles, “You wanna get some food and talk about it when we get home?” You sigh, nodding and snuggling into his arm for the remainder of the ride. 

                                                           … 

      After taking the remnants of your takeout to the kitchen, you make you way back to the couch where Austin is sitting, arms outstretched along the back and his head leaned back. The credits of the show you were watching play on the tv so you pick up the remote and pause it before sitting down against him, tucking your legs up and leaning your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head,

“What’s goin’ on in your head, pretty girl?” You lift your head up and slightly turn your body in his grasp to look at him fully, he smooths his palm up and down your arm as he speaks. The weight and warmth of his hand against your bare skin grounds you as your open your mouth to speak,

“I was- I guess I just-” You pause for a moment, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to get your thoughts together, “I had a thought earlier today, about us, and built it all up in my head before I really considered it. I’ll be alright, I’m just a little annoyed at myself for getting carried away. And, honestly, I’m kinda sad about it too.” Austin watches your face as you speak, brows slightly furrowed as he takes in your words. You know you were vague and he is probably more than a little confused, but you can’t bring yourself to say exactly what you were thinking, tears already threatening behind your eyes.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry you’re upset. Do you think you could explain your thought to me? Maybe there’s somethin’ you didn’t think of that I can do to help.” As you gaze into his eyes, your heart swells with love for the man in front of you. You are so grateful to have him as partner in life, always so kind and attentive to your needs. You look down to your lap for a moment, clearing your throat and parting your lips to unleash the uncensored truth but the words stay lodged in your throat. Emotion starts to swell within you, hot tears pricking the corners of your eyes, and you look to Austin. He gently brushes your cheek with the back of his fingers, “It’s okay, you can tell me anything.” A tear slips from your eye at his reassurance and you quickly wipe it away,

“I wanted to have a baby.” The second the words leave your mouth you can feel Austin tense beside you. Terrified that he is going to get upset you quickly continue, “Don’t worry, I know that we can’t and I promise I’ll get over it I just need some time an-” Austin silences you by leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. You melt into the kiss after a moment of surprise, focusing on the warmth of his mouth against yours and the hand that now rests under your chin. He pulls away slowly, as if moving too fast could scare you away,

“You really wanna to have a baby with me? Oh my god y/n, that’s amazing! When did you change your mind?” He scoots closer to you on the couch and runs his fingers through your hair. His eyes are bright, excited, and that flares your upset once again—he’s not listening. You furrow your eyebrows and you gently push his hand from your hair. 

“Austin, we can’t. I just told you that’s why I’m upset.” Austin tries to interrupt but you stop him, wiping at your wet, blotchy cheeks, “You were absolutely perfect with Jupiter and I could see how ready you are, and that made me ready. But, everyone is finally going to see how incredible you are when this movie comes out and I want you to have your moment in the spotlight. This has been your dream your entire career, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I put that in jeopardy by being selfish.”     

“Y/n, you and our family are my dream. There will never be a ‘perfect’ time to have a baby, all that matters is whether or not we both want it. And it’s not ‘selfish’ to want it.” Austin grasps your chin, turning your face and making you look him in the eyes. “Do you wanna have a baby with me?” You plead with your eyes and stutter to answer,

“Aus, it’s not that simple. I-“ He presses a finger to your lips, silencing you, and softly laughs,

“Hey, none of that. Just answer the question.” You sigh in defeat and pull his hand away from your mouth and into your lap before responding,

“Yes, I want to have a baby with you.” Because you do, there is nothing you want more than to grow the love between him and you by bringing a baby into the world.

“And I want to have a baby with you. So let’s do it. If we both want it then we'll make it work. ” You gaze into the eyes of the man you love as he speaks and all you see is unfiltered love and excitement. It’s in this moment that you believe what he says, because you can see how much he believes it himself. If you love each other and you both want to start this journey together, then everything else can be dealt with as it comes. At this realization, you finally allow yourself feel the excitement you experienced earlier in the day, a large smile spreading across your face. 

“You promise that it’s really what you want? I don’t want you to agree just because I’m upset.” Austin tilts his head back and laughs, a deep rumbling in his chest. You nudge him in the ribs, causing him to let out an ‘hey!’, and can’t help but laugh along with him, “Don’t laugh, I’m serious! What’s so funny anyway?”

“Y/n, you’re kidding right?” He leans in, suddenly serious and slings his arms around you again, speaking lowly, “I think I’ve made it pretty obvious how much I would love to get you pregnant, baby.” He trails kisses along the side of your jaw and down your neck, your eyes fluttering closed and lips softly parting. After a moment of getting lost in each other, Austin pulls back–a smug smirk on his face to look at you. With your eyes still closed you say,

“Okay, let’s do it.” Before you can even process what’s happen, you’re being lifted into the air and your eyes fly open meet Austin’s gaze. You wrap your arms around him as he carries you toward the stairs, a glint in his bright blue eyes, “Um—where are we going?”

“To get started.” He reaches the top of the stairs, looking down at you in his arms, “If we don’t get a baby in you right now, how am I gonna have a hot wife with a cute little baby bump as my date to the Met Gala?” You’re momentarily shocked at his words, and you can tell by the devilish look on his face that while he’s joking, he also isn’t. You shake your head, a smile on your lips, as he pushes the door to your bedroom open.

All you get out is, “can’t argue with that”, before you squeal as he tosses you onto the bed.

next part here!!

[bmodiwrites]

An Awfully Wonderful Idea

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fill for @thefreakandthehair’s spicy six winter fic challenge. My prompt was How the Grinch Stole Christmas - when I saw that it was still available, I just about passed out from the excitement. Hopefully you guys enjoy my take including the classic! Word Count: ~9k Warnings: There’s definitely some smut in here, but it’s me writing, so that’s not really a surprise. Other than that, there’s not too much aside from some good old Christmas fun! Summary:

Steve’s family never participated in the holidays. It was one of those unspoken truths that everyone in the Harrington household steadfastly ignored. Up until walking in on Eddie reading a Christmas-y story to the kids, Steve was plenty okay with all the missing out he’d done over the years. However, that one small taste opened up a door that Steve wasn’t all that prepared to open, yet couldn’t force himself to be interested in closing it, either. Read to find out what happens when Steve gets the awfully wonderful idea to get closer to Eddie while truly experiencing Christmas for the very first time.

Or, a seduction through Christmas cheer.

Read the rest on AO3 here!

Turning into a parking spot in front of the only apartment complex in Hawkins, Steve straightened the wheel as his car settled. He pushed the gear shift into park with a sigh, relaxing back into his seat to take a second to himself before chaos ensued. It was a rowdy Wednesday night where the kids played D&D, drank way too much soda, and ran amuck until the eventual sugar crash hit and they all fell asleep in his back seat. There’d be no silence while the smattering of teens remained in his responsibility, so Steve took a second to enjoy it while he could.

After pulling in a couple of long clearing breaths, Steve narrowed his focus on the only lit door of Eddie’s building. Steve heard through the grapevine that Eddie and Wayne were slightly upset about their inability to decorate more than just a couple of spaces in their new home – after having an entire trailer to Christmas-ify, anything else seemed small and insignificant. Still, the rainbow string of lights was much more than anything Steve had ever experienced during this time of the year in his own lonely home. He appreciated the haloing glow inviting him in. For the first time since his silly little crush started to push at his edges, Steve had something other than simply being at Eddie’s place to blame for his giddiness and excitement. Today, Steve strode towards the decorations like a moth to a flame, those bright Christmas lights dragging him in.

Despite not being as close as Steve would’ve liked, Eddie was his friend. Plain and simple. It was hard to brush any sort of connection aside after almost dying (for the third time) – Steve’s (and Eddie’s, too) social circle be damned. Instead of pushing him away and trying to put a bit of space between them, Steve leaned into the annoying truth that Eddie wasn’t going anywhere. Up until that point, finding a commonality to use as a springboard into something more hadn’t happened for Steve – so friends and only friends they remained. And that was okay; Steve had more than enough to worry about with six teenage charges and two part time jobs. At the rate he was going, Steve couldn’t possibly fit the time in for a love life, anyway.

Except – Eddie (and his distinct lack of anything resembling affectionate connection) was all that Steve could think about. With their newfound friendship came proximity, and while Steve was certain that Eddie didn’t know it, the brunette boy had so much touch and tangible appreciation to give that Steve fell victim to finger brushes, hands on his shoulders, and one memorable time, a thumb flitting across his cheek. There was no real escaping the tantalizing tease of having Eddie near without so much causing a problem and that was far from what Steve wanted – he so desperately craved to have him closer.

And despite being the responsible person that he was, Steve had a reckless streak in him, especially where his feelings were concerned. Steve stood out on limbs and tightrope walked all the emotionally dangerous situations without blinking. Maybe that was why his brain fixated on Eddie the way it had; unlike the many girls in Hawkins that still wanted to throw themselves at him, Eddie made him work and think and feel and try. The adrenaline of being around him, even if Steve was slowly starting to come unraveled from it, made Steve’s heart beat fast. The sort of fast that sports and adventuring, or even Vecna, never brought about.

It felt dangerous and exciting to like Eddie, so Steve continued to do so.

Not like he could really help it, either. Grabbing the knob to Eddie’s front door, Steve gave it a quick turn to the right. As it popped open and Steve pushed his way inside, the all too familiar smell of tobacco, coffee, and something specifically Munson hit Steve’s nose. Even the olfactory bombardment of him caused Steve’s insides to turn to jelly. He allowed himself one extra-long breath of the room’s glorious perfume before returning to his regularly scheduled programming.

As per usual, Steve’s horde of children was gathered around Eddie, who sat very kingly in the center of the circle. His back was pressed to the makeshift throne as his mouth moved. Steve was too far away to make out the words but he appreciated the sight, nonetheless. On top of being a great story teller, Eddie had amazing lips and quirky cheeks that broadcasted every single one of his emotions – Steve figured the whole reason he did so well at the DM thing was because of that dramatic ability to emote. Forcing himself not to spend too much time staring, Steve moved further into the apartment to finally figure out what had everyone so entranced.

Steve, admittedly, wasn’t ready for the actuality of the situation. Walking a little closer meant seeing the group as a whole – Dustin, who was always spry and on the move, was statue still and completely absorbed by whatever Eddie was doing. The rest of the group seemed to be suffering a pretty similar fate. After looking between them all, Steve focused in on Eddie, who hadn’t been effected by Steve’s presence at all. Only then did Steve notice the open book in Eddie’s hands. The cover read How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Steve almost lost it.

If it weren’t for the rare vision of Eddie Munson in glasses as he read, Steve would’ve laughed outright, right then and there. How silly was it to be slinging Dr. Seuss to a handful of teenagers, anyway? Yet, as Eddie went on and Steve caught more of the story, the idea of a children’s book being entertaining started to become more realistic. Maybe it was the timber of Eddie’s voice with every new verse that drew him in, or maybe, after so many years of being an adult long before he needed to, Steve finally felt the little kid in him stir again. Whatever the case was, Steve thoroughly enjoyed the last dozen pages of the Grinch’s adventure.

To cover up that fact, Steve piped up the minute Eddie closed the book with a satisfied smile. “I didn’t take you for a Dr. Seuss man, Munson.” Steve’s voice seemed to echo in the otherwise empty room, drawing absolutely everyone’s attention to him. All of the kids rolled their eyes, but Eddie, he held firm, even seemed to smile a bit harder as his arms tucked around the obviously well-loved book and brought it to his chest.

“He’s the world’s greatest philosopher, Stevie,” Eddie said, arguing back with a light, almost sarcastic tone. He got up out of his throne and took a couple of steps towards Steve before continuing. “We’re headed to Whoville for our Christmas campaign this year – it only seemed right to set the tone with a little background story.” By then, Eddie was only a couple of feet from him, if Steve wanted to, he could reach out and touch, maybe grab that precious book out of Eddie’s hands just to hold something of his. Instead, Steve shook his head affectionately.

That should’ve been it, the end of Steve’s curiosity about Eddie and his quirks and lovely voice and thorough enjoyment of Christmas, but it wasn’t. Steve found himself more entranced then ever after leaving Eddie’s house that night. Out of all the things that got Steve’s attention, that made him think that things actually could work out between them, Christmas spirit didn’t even make the list. But, maybe that was why it was the perfect bridge. He could use the excuse of garnering holiday cheer to lessen the gap of giant space between himself and Eddie that, up until that day, Steve hadn’t been able to narrow. If rumor was true, Eddie Munson loved Christmas. What better common ground was there?

With that decision made, Steve went about putting his plan into motion. Having never been one for celebrating the holiday with his own parents, Steve was a bit behind on all the know-how of the season, especially the activities that happened in Hawkins and its surrounding cities. Luckily, Steve worked one of his jobs at the library where an events tackboard existed with flyers galore. It took a bit of perusing to find the little gems that Steve was looking for, but he eventually did. And just in time, too.

The second week of December was quickly approaching when Steve eventually bucked up the nerve to act upon all of his hard work. That Friday, after getting off of his own shift at Family Video, Steve drove over to the grocery store to surprise Eddie at work. Since it was their usual hangout night with Robin and Nancy, Steve knew Eddie’s schedule enough to get there right before he clocked out for the night. After checking to make sure he still had what he needed, Steve climbed out of the car and headed inside. He was right on time – Eddie, still clad in a light blue button down with the store’s logo on it, was headed towards him with slow and measured steps. His head was down, shoulders slumped. The day was probably long so close to the holidays. Steve took one look at him and immediately felt better about his plan.

“Hey Munson!”

Steve watched Eddie look up at the sound of his name. He was confused for a handful of seconds before recognition and muted joy overtook his expression, instead. Eddie’s steps suddenly quickened – before Steve knew it, they were practically chest to chest. “This is an unexpected surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Harrington?”

The witty way that Eddie spoke caught Steve off guard for a second. He worked hard to grasp onto his self-control to stop the giddy smile from slipping across his face, though the look of recognition he got from Eddie said he didn’t really succeed. It was just too much sometimes, being around Eddie and the sort of energy he radiated so brightly in all directions. Giving himself over to it, Steve basked for a moment, then got himself together.

“I thought I’d take you for a drive. I uh – had something I wanted to show you.”

Eddie looked panicked for a second, his lips forming over the words “right this second?” before Eddie could filter them out. He glanced up at Steve with a shrug, then carried on with his rebuttal. “I still look like I’m coming back from a business meeting.” His black painted fingers pinched at the fabric of his work shirt in disgust. “I’m not sure my already sullied reputation can take the hit if people were to see me.”

Grinning at the perfect leeway to the next step in his plan, Steve held up his hands – “I’ve got just the thing, actually.” He pointed at Eddie then, silently telling him to wait right there as he sprinted towards his car. Steve fumbled his keys and banged into the seatbelt buckle with his kneecap in his adventure to secure the goods and make his way back to Eddie. He gripped his prizes in hand and raised them triumphantly. “The solution to all your problems,” Steve said proudly. When Eddie looked over at him, Steve launched the sweater meant for him in Eddie’s direction.

Ring clad fingers gripped onto the red and green fabric, catching Steve’s terrible lob just seconds before it hit the slushy ground below them. Eddie stared at him with a curious look before pinching either side of the sweater between his fingers and holding it up to see. “Are you shitting me, Harrington? I’m not sure this is my style, either.” Eddie peeked up over the Grinch sweater that said ‘mean one’ in bright red lettering nervously. The pucker of surprise in his lips made Steve laugh instantly.

“Too bad you feel that way,” Steve replied, clapping back at him easily now. They were close enough for that sort of thing. Then, he held up his own article of ugly sweater with a grin. “I thought we could match.”

Aside from the slow, resigned shake of his head, Eddie didn’t put up any further fight. Steve, ever the gentleman, made it worth Eddie’s cooperation by stripping off his plain blue polo on the way to his car, flashing his buddy a little bare skin for his troubles. Though Steve wasn’t really sure how Eddie felt about him specifically, everyone in Hawkins knew about Munson’s preferences. It was hard to be different privately in a small town. Steve knew that better than anyone else.

Whatever got him there in the end, Steve was glad to have Eddie side-eyeing him from the passenger seat the entire trip. They didn’t make much small talk as Steve navigated them down the highway about half an hour outside of Hawkins. Their silence was comfortable and easy to exist in, bred from shared trauma and the feeling of safety that came along with knowing how to handle it from others – that comfortability of knowing they’d be taken care of if push came to shove. Out of all Steve’s friends and loved ones, Eddie was the easiest to be around. He didn’t need to fill in the spaces or muck up the quiet. He tapped on his thighs and hummed under his breath but never expected anything from Steve in return. By the time they got where they were going, Steve was even more excited to finally be taking a step in the right direction.

Taking the last turn, Steve’s breath caught. The entrance to the drive-thru light park shone brightly with white lights outlining the gate. An echo of what was to come backlit the rest of their adventure, settling a giddy feeling in the pit of Steve’s stomach. It was beautiful, though only second best to the beaming boy sitting next to him. The lights reflected in Eddie’s eyes as he looked over to Steve in awe. “What is this place?”

That innocent enjoyment of something so simple made the gauging price of admission worth every penny. Steve didn’t even bat an eye as he handed over his money and listened to the driving instructions through the park. They simply needed to follow the line and enjoy the stupid amount of Christmas cheer around them. “This is miles of the best Christmas lights you’ll ever see.” And while Steve didn’t know if the advertisement’s claim was true, the glow in Eddie’s eye made it all seem even better than the best. For a couple of hours, Steve got to bask in and soak up all of Eddie’s enjoyment as Christmas came to life before them. By the end of the night, Steve couldn’t blink without seeing the blinding glare of Eddie’s smile (though, maybe the twinkle of the billion lights they looked at didn’t help that much, either.)

“I’ve never seen anything like that before. Thank you for bringing me, Steve,” Eddie said a while later as they quietly made the trek home. They grabbed hot chocolate at the end of the path of lights to sip on as the awe and serenity of such an experience overtook them for a while. Steve even jumped a little at the sound of Eddie’s voice, though he relaxed back into himself almost immediately. His sore cheeks protested the eager smile that overtook Steve’s lips, though it prevailed, nonetheless.

“You trusted me enough to come. That’s thanks enough. I really enjoyed it.” Steve reached into the cupholder to grab his cocoa – all the sudden, he needed something to do with his hands. “What do you think that place pays in electricity?”

The subject change worked exactly like Steve wanted it, too. They chatted the rest of the drive home and Steve didn’t have to dwell on the warmth in his chest that was flooding him unceremoniously. He felt heavy with it, like he might burst if it didn’t come up and out of him soon. The distraction of listening to Eddie talk about his favorite parts of the overwhelming light display was just enough to edge out the way the want that had started lingering around. No matter what Steve did, he ached for the guy sitting next to him. Which meant, of course, that his holiday seduction was far from over.

The next handful of days, Steve got the Christmas experience he’d always been missing. After the kids heard about their light adventure, Dustin demanded to be included in Steve’s epic holiday plans. It took a bit of doing and a lot of that good old Harrington charm, but Steve managed to convince all of the kid’s parents to let them go into the city with Steve, Eddie, and the rest of the group’s pseudo-adults. They split the crew up into the three cars between them, Steve, Eddie, and Jonathan got a handful of the party and followed each other down the highway. Steve led the caravan with grit and determination, using Dustin as his copilot and navigator. They only took a couple of wrong turns before turning into the small stadium holding the event.

“This better not be lame, Steve,” Mike said as he climbed out of the back with Lucas in tow. Though he told them they were heading into the city, Steve never explicitly stated why they were going. The event, while for everyone, was geared towards Eddie and his enjoyment. After divvying up the tickets between the adults and finding their way inside, Steve let out a breath of relief. They were finally there and by the look on Eddie’s face, Steve had gotten it right again.

“How did you manage to find a rock and roll Christmas concert?” Eddie asked, sidling up to Steve as they waited in the lobby for the group to be ready to find their seats. Their shoulders brushed together, the two of them standing close.

“Your buddy Gareth, actually.” Steve purposefully leaned in, lowering his voice. “He said it’d be right up your alley.”

Eddie’s sharp intake of breath was rudely interrupted by an excited Dustin trotting over to them, impatiently wanting to go in, to experience something new, to live the life they weren’t guaranteed all that long ago to the fullest. If it were anyone else, Steve might’ve been a little miffed. Instead, he reached out to ruffle Dustin’s carefully styled hair, telling him to be patient like the good mother hen he was.

For the rest of the night, Steve found himself caught between the amazing music, the tranquil thoughts about how Eddie looked at him out in the lobby, and the way he kept looking at him now– Eddie unsubtly snuck peeks over the kids heads throughout the performance. Pining for so long meant not knowing what to do when the feeling shifted into something more, something that was actually tangible and within reach. Steve was hopeful enough to lean into whatever was happening between them. Though, he didn’t dare to read any further into it or push for more. Surprisingly, the slow burn of a shy smile and space still yet to navigate filled him up so pleasantly full.

Following the concert, their caravan moved further downtown where an ice skating rink was brimming with people. Steve grimaced at the thought of all the noise, noise, noise, but buckled down his anxiety and went with it. The kids in his backseat were already excited upon seeing the place – anything less than making sure they had fun wasn’t enough – no matter how uncomfortable Steve was.

That feeling quickly faded to the background, anyway – being around so many people he loved, Steve didn’t have to think twice about getting lost in their presence to drown out the crowd. Being a seasoned pro on the ice, Steve was the anchor that El and Will held onto while they inched around the ring. Eddie looked kind of like a newborn deer, though he pulled it off without too many occasions of falling on his ass. The chill of the ice and the joy of doing something without pressure or strings or much life or death danger took up the space where Steve’s usual overstimulation resided. It was fun to see his family work up to making crisp circles around the ring, basically hand-in-hand with each other the entire time. Steve didn’t miss the way the kid inside of him jumped for joy – he never experienced such a time with people near to him before. His sore feet and the long drive ahead of them didn’t amount to anything when he felt close to bursting with the good time they all just had.

It didn’t hurt, either, that Eddie went out of his way to stop Steve before they climbed into their cars to head back to Hawkins. All of the kids were already packed inside, so Steve leaned into the touch and allowed himself to be dragged into Eddie’s proximity. There was a second where neither boy said anything, then Eddie smiled the kind of smile Steve would dream about for years to come. Cool lips were on his cheek a moment later, quickly followed by strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. Steve didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, to pull Eddie in close “Best night, ever – “ Eddie whispered in Steve’s ear as he loosened his grip and backed away. “Drive safe, Stevie.”

The wink Eddie sent him followed Steve all the way home and into his dreams where it existed solely to taunt him. Yet, Steve woke up feeling satisfied knowing that the little game they were playing together was progressing rather nicely. Never mind the fact that Steve felt so much joy and excitement in his very soul – he realized why so many people went nuts around the holidays. It was so easy to get lost in the way the spirit of the season took everyone that participated in it under this canopy of warmth that was just so inviting. Steve didn’t recognize the kind of happiness that surrounded him, though he appreciated it all the same.

A small bakery a couple of towns over followed the concert days later. Steve woke Eddie up earlier than either of them were used to being conscious and prodded him into the car. He immediately slumped against the side of the door and snored the entire way there. Glancing looks over at him, Steve marveled at the rise and fall of his chest and the solidity of his sleep. He recognized comfort when he saw it and rejoiced. Things were working out so very nicely.

Pulling into a small yet already crowded parking lot, Steve nudged Eddie with a soft press of his hand. “Wake up, Munson,” Steve sing-songed. “We’re supposedly about to eat the best gingerbread cookie in the state of Indiana. You can only get them when the store first opens, so we’ve got to be fast.” He’d laughed at that at first but Dustin’s mom shook her head grimly. She then proceeded to tell him about her first trip to Bel Air’s – the lack of a gingerbread that day was still bittersweet, even Steve could feel her sorrow. Thankfully, Eddie stirred, looking much more put together.

“It better be spectacular, Steve. I’m not about this morning shit.” And though Eddie grumbled, he shot Steve a smile as he climbed out of the car. There was a small line waiting outside the still closed store. Joining it, Steve noticed the cool breeze creeping over his bare arms. He crowded against Eddie without thought, seeking out the warmth he always found with the brunette around. Steve felt Eddie’s gasp, watched as it rose his shoulders and pinched his eyebrows together. Neither did anything further but Steve felt the burn. The wait was no longer a bother when Steve could focus on the brush of Eddie’s arm hair and the occasionally cool caress of his rings when Eddie shifted at all.

At 6AM when the doors finally opened, Steve had forgotten about the cold, his focus solely on Eddie.

It took a few more minutes for them to score the goods, but Steve successfully passed Eddie a cookie with a satisfied smile. “The best in the world, Eds.” Steve drove home his point by biting off the head of his own cookie, only to let out a surprised moan at the overall experience. The taste, smell, and texture of the damn thing was nothing he’d ever experienced before. So preoccupied by the orgasm taking place in his mouth, Steve didn’t notice the blush on Eddie’s face or the way he was quick to look away. He might’ve dropped the cookie if he had. Instead, Steve knocked their shoulders together as they walked back to the car – “I’d say it was worth the drive.”

The entire way home, Eddie was wide awake, talking about the gorgeous sunset they drove towards. Steve got lost in the way Eddie described the colors and the stories he told about sneaking out of his old trailer to sit on top of it to watch the sun crawl up the sky. He wondered what it’d be like to give Eddie something like that again; he then let himself think about what it’d be like to share a morning sky tangled up together the way he so desperately wanted them to be.

Barely 7 by the time they got back, Steve wasn’t in any hurry to push Eddie out of the car. They lingered in the parking space that Steve had deemed his own for a little while now, listening to the hum of the radio and chatting about nothing at all. Loathe to admit that he didn’t want to go, Steve let his next idea come to the surface, setting it free out into the air. “Would you help me pick out a tree? My parents aren’t going to be home until well into the new year, so I thought it might be nice to have one. Something to take up some of that empty space, you know?”

Eddie took a while to answer – he fiddled with the sweatpants he was wearing, picking at a stitch that was probably brought about because of Eddie’s nervous habit in the first place. Then, like lightening, that same hand was grabbing Steve’s, their fingers interlocking. “I’ve got you covered. But, I’ll pick you up this time. We’ll need my van to haul the thing home, anyway.” Eddie shot him a soft look before bringing their joined hands to his lips, kissing Steve’s fingers. “Be ready at 6.”

With that, Eddie gently pulled his hand away, then was up and out of the car. Steve watched him head towards those familiar lights, catching Eddie looking back at him. He saw a dark red flush play over Eddie’s cheeks and a shake of his head, then Eddie was through the door and gone from Steve’s vision. He idled there for another few minutes, his hands and feet a little numb from the overstimulation. Eddie made him feel so many things that Steve wasn’t sure he’d survive getting what he wanted. It’d be so easy to overdose on the feeling that Eddie brought out in him.

Pushing that away for a while, Steve drove back to his house to crash back into bed. He switched shifts with Robin to have the day free and was glad because the early get up was exhausting and Steve wanted to be at his best for Eddie later on. Steve peacefully slept with a belly full of gingerbread and dreams of soft lips against the swell of his knuckles. Though, he didn’t allow himself to wonder what that touch might feel like in unmentionable places. That line wasn’t one he wanted to cross just yet. They were almost there, but not yet.

Steve got himself up with enough time to shower and dress for a cold night. Amazingly, it had started to snow while he slept – they would be getting one of those chilly, practically perfect winter nights. Shrugging into his coat right at 6, Steve grinned at the sound of Eddie honking his horn. He slipped a scarf around his neck, locked up the house, and carefully made his way over to where the van idled. A smile slipped across his face without any conscious permission at the sight of Eddie bundled up in layers, a saggy beanie on his head. He had on fingerless gloves that were adorned with a buffalo plaid pattern matching Eddie’s flannel. Steve’s brain had trouble processing the cuteness overload laced with the sexy rock god that Eddie usually portrayed. It was hard to say whether drool dripped down his chin or not.

“Steve-o, let’s go before the whackos make the road a mess to drive on!” Eddie exclaimed. He even pulled the seatbelt across Steve’s lap for him, buckling him in with a resounding click. Steve noticed that Eddie didn’t realize what he did until a few moments later. The redness of blush ran down his neck, though Eddie tried to hide it by fiddling with the temperature dials on the dash. They let the sounds of Dio be the noise of the trip, choosing to sit in silence with each other. It was nice and Steve found himself humming along to the songs he actually knew.

“You’ve got to stop surprising me, Harrington,” Eddie said as they turned off the highway. They started down a bumperier, more off the path road. “I learn something new about you every day.”

Knowing it was about the music, Steve shrugged his shoulders – “Where’s the fun in that? You need to be kept on your toes, Ed. You’ll stay sharper that way.” Following up his words with a wink, Steve tucked his bottom lip between his teeth at his own brazenness. He was thankful that Eddie had to tear his eyes away to look back at the road – it would do no one any good if they crashed along the way.

Their time at the tree farm was stupidly picturesque, fluffy snow included.

It didn’t take Steve long to find the tree for him. He noticed it when they first walked in and couldn’t be budged, no matter how many others Eddie tried to show him. As they paid for the thing, Steve noticed one of the workers taking Polaroids of people by the festive backdrop the farm put together at the front. “We have to get one,” Steve said, lugging both the tree and Eddie towards the line without waiting for confirmation. It was well worth it to see the radiant smile on his own face as he stared up at a beaming Eddie, the Christmas tree practically forgotten in his hand. But before Steve could claim the snap, Eddie snatched it out of his hands with a mischievous grin.

“For my memory book.”

Without putting up any fight, Steve nodded happily. While he wanted the photo for his own memories, Steve was happy to know that Eddie wanted a reminder of their time together, too. He rode the high of that feeling all the way through getting the tree inside and into the stand. They worked well together and it took no time at all to string up the multi-colored lights so they could finish it off with the ornaments. Steve was focused and complacent and so happily zoned out that Eddie’s voice a while later scared the shit out of him. He jumped slightly and said “what?” mindlessly. It took a second to catch his breath and reorient himself to look Eddie’s way.

“Everything okay?”

Steve watched Eddie fiddle with one of the glass balls they found in the downstairs closet. It was fancy, more than likely something his mother picked out when they at least attempted to play pretend. Still, the tree couldn’t sit bare, so Steve put up the extra stuff just to fill in all the empty spaces. Though, Eddie’s presence did a damn good job of that, too.

“Sure, everything’s fine. I just – I’ve loved every second of your attention, Stevie. Probably more than I should. It’s hard not to be jazzed by the king’s presence.”

Looking up at him, Steve stopped him with a blurted out – “I’m just Steve, Eddie. That king stuff is all bull shit – always was.” For whatever reason, it was so insanely important in that very moment for Steve to make that clarification, to have Eddie know that the line that used to exist didn’t anymore. Hadn’t in a long time. The truth and intensity of his feelings just wouldn’t allow it.

“Oh, I know,” Eddie replied immediately. He smiled reassuringly, the look in his eyes warm. “I just like the nickname.” Then, because the tender affection of that just wasn’t enough, Eddie winked at him, his grin becoming mindlessly flirty. Though, the expression was brief and Eddie’s shy seriousness returned with a vengeance. “Seriously, though. What gives?”

For a moment, Steve contemplated making up some sort of excuse, or maybe even lying to shake the obvious heat off of himself. The thought lingered for about a moment, then resolutely passed. The growing thing between them deserved more than a brush off. Besides, the earnest look on Eddie’s face was too much to try to deceive. “It’s been – a really long time since the holidays were fun. Or actually meant something. My parents never gave a shit about anything family oriented, let alone an entire holiday that shoves that idea down your throat.” Steve paused for a second to push away that disappointment. His parents really did suck, but the letdown was certainly better served at another time. Shaking his head, he continued.

“Having a family that actually cares about me seemed like the perfect opportunity to enjoy the stuff I never got to as a kid.” It wasn’t everything, not the entirety of the reason, but it was enough. At least Steve thought so until the contemplative look on Eddie’s face didn’t disappear.

“Why me, though? You’ve included the kids a lot but it’s just been you and me most of the time. I’m no holiday guru, Harrington. I just enjoy all the bright lights and cheesy stories.” Eddie tried to laugh, to play off his insecurities and questions, but the seriousness of it all lingered despite the effort.

“Honestly –“ Steve started, fumbling with an ornament in his hands as he looked for the words. “I just wanted to spend time with you. This – “ he gestured around him, trying to make Eddie see, “is just a really outlandish excuse to do exactly that.” His face was red, flushed with a raging blush that lingered the longer his words sat out in the open. He wanted to take all that truth back so earnestly and yet –

Eddie’s lips lifted in pure joy, his look of contemplation and confusion morphing into something Steve hadn’t ever seen before.

“I was hoping that was the case,” Eddie said confidently as he stepped into Steve’s orbit, raised his hands to grip his warm cheeks, and kissed him. Their lips slid together, knocking the breath from Steve’s chest. He moaned, unable to stop himself from expressing the sheer relief he felt.

Finally, Eddie was in his arms.

Christmas Eve found the entire crew at Steve’s house. After finding out about his parents (and their oh so apparent neglect), Eddie got the kids together to help Steve finish decorating the place. The once desolate living room was brimming with life. Lights and garland were strung across the top of the mantel and the stale, lifeless ornaments were quickly replaced by personal ones – each one of the kids added a few of their own to really make the whole situation that much more emotional. By the time everyone finished up and his place looked gloriously unrecognizable, Steve wasn’t able to control the urge to stride over to Eddie and kiss him soundly. At least, after that display, they didn’t have to worry about a way to tell everyone the news.

Thankfully, no one batted an eye – or even seemed to be all that surprised.

It was crazy to think that Steve hadn’t ever gone to the Christmas market in town or baked cookies with 15 people in his kitchen vying for counter space. The loudness of it all, something that usually set Steve on edge, made him feel warm and loved, instead. Steve quickly realized that all of those years of never having anything close to the family Christmas he’d been a part of this year meant nothing in comparison to the memories they were making now. All of his favorite people were happy, fed, and existing all under one roof, what more could Steve really ask for?

The slide of Eddie’s hand into his answered the question, easily. He leaned into the touch, gripping Eddie’s fingers tightly as they became tangled in that natural way they always did. Once both boys let the flood gates open, the easy camaraderie between them shifted into a seamless relationship that Steve never knew to want. He figured there was some merit to the idea of dating his best friend – Eddie filled in all the parts of Steve’s life that were missing; the ones that overlapped, they were an amazing bonus. It was easy to combine their powers of persuasion over the kids – in fact, the team effort made their time with their lively teens even more fun. They were halves to a whole and Steve had never been happier.

Especially now that the craziness of the white elephant gift exchange that they did died down. For a while, Steve was afraid that they’d need to separate Dustin and Mike, who fought over one of the silly gifts that Eddie threw in at the last minute. Neither he nor Steve could’ve anticipated the drama a reference book would create. Thankfully, Nancy was a good ring leader and settled everyone down with the offer of baked goods she’d been hiding in her bag. The kids binged a little and got over the ridiculous tiff with an amicable deal to share the book. They’d both need it for Hellfire, so it made sense.

With everyone content again, Steve was happy to pull out his last little surprise for the group. He’d waited until the very last moment to yank How the Grinch Stole Christmas off the shelf without angering too many customers or his boss. Steve wanted to make sure he got a copy to watch so they could end their epic celebration on a high note. Quickly learning that dating Eddie meant hearing all about his campaigns and ideas, Steve was surprisingly satisfied to know that he enjoyed his boyfriend’s enthusiasm. And while he never had any intention of joining the fun, Steve appreciated the way Eddie weaved a story and awed everyone in the room. The ending to their Grinch campaign was a good one – even Steve had to admit.

The rest of the group was just as excited as Steve was when he presented the VHS with a flourish. Dustin didn’t wait to yank it out of his hands in his excitement; though he set it up to play, so Steve let it slide. Everyone piled on all of the available surfaces and quickly quieted down. Despite having so much energy and being filled to the brim with the hunger to go, go, go, Steve was impressed by the kids’ ability to hunker down and stay quiet throughout an entire film. Or maybe there was just something about Dr Seuss that drew everyone in. Steve had fallen victim to the trance right from the start.

As the credits rolled, Steve smiled widely at the feeling of pure happiness and joy that lingered around the room. Everyone looked like they were floating, like they were full to the brim with the sort of spirit Steve hadn’t ever recognized before. It was hard to get everyone up and out the door because of it. There wasn’t much left of Christmas Eve by the time Steve and Eddie were finally alone in the house.

They were piled on top of each other on the couch, simply existing in the same space. “Can I give you your gift now?” Eddie asked after a few quiet moments, breaking the silence. “I’m not sure I can wait.”

Snorting at the absurdity of such a question, Steve rolled a bit until he could look up and catch Eddie’s glance. “Then don’t wait. I’ll give you yours, too.”

Eddie was quick to shuffle his way out from under Steve, like he’d only been waiting for verbal confirmation to act, anyway. Steve sat up from his spot on the cushion, completely curious now. Walking back into the room, Eddie carried a medium sized box, a soft yet cheeky smile on his face. “Merry Christmas, Steve. This has been the best one for me yet.” Eddie capped off his words by pressing a lingering kiss to Steve’s cheek. “I hope you like it, babe.”

Unable to hold himself back, Steve ripped into the surprisingly well wrapped box. Eddie hadn’t stopped being cheeky in his taping technique – there was so much of it that Steve had to slow down and be methodical about how he teared at it. Finally, after way too much effort, Steve was pulling the top half of the box off to reveal something small and square, covered in some red tissue paper. Looking up, Steve caught Eddie’s eye as he peeled the last barrier away. The mischief he saw in Eddie’s stare finally made sense. Steve couldn’t help his own laugh at the sight before him – Eddie had found a Baby’s 1st Christmas fame that he added their picture from the tree farm to. It was both hilarious and so stupidly touching that Steve could do nothing but set it down and reach across the space between him and Eddie to pull that amazing boy close.

Their lips met in a kiss that started soft and sweet, only to quickly become something hot and melty. Steve had no idea where the surge of passion came from but he ran with it. Both hands moved from their spot on Eddie’s hips to fist in the tresses of his hair. He used his grip to tilt Eddie’s head to the side to plunder the depths of his mouth a little better. Their tongues tangled and danced and struggled for dominance until Steve won out – he traced teeth and a soft palette like a researcher documenting precious findings. He explored and tasted what Eddie had to offer. Now that he could, Steve never took the opportunity to learn more about his boyfriend at every turn for granted.

That teasing touch quickly became not enough for the both of them. “I want you to fuck me, Eddie,” Steve said, whispering the words softly against the shell of Eddie’s ear as he nipped and sucked on the cartilage there. He felt Eddie’s body shudder against him – each word drew up gooseflesh that scattered across pale skin. Steve chased it until Eddie’s needy hands pulled Steve’s head back up so they could kiss once again.

The delicate fumble of getting down the hall was so familiar that Eddie only backed Steve up into the wall once. They laughed through the thud of Steve’s body colliding with the plaster, not even bothering to break their kiss or pull apart from each other. Step by slow and measured step, Eddie and Steve got themselves across the house to finally, finally fall into the comfort of Steve’s bed.

Eddie’s hands didn’t wait until Steve had adjusted himself on the bed – those worn and calloused fingers undid buttons and yanked on fabric until Steve’s chest was bare. He didn’t let Steve return the favor, instead doing the same for himself by tugging his sweatshirt up and over his own head. Their pants were next in the methodical strip tease that Eddie was doing. Denim drifted down Steve’s legs with the phantom touch of Eddie’s fingertips teasing along the newly revealed skin. His cock was hard and aching by the time Eddie dropped Steve’s jeans onto the floor.

Heavy eyes drifted up to catch Steve’s glance as Eddie finished ridding them of the rest of their clothes. He didn’t seem to blink, not when he settled between Steve’s legs, not when he reached under the pillow for the lube they used that morning, not even when the squelch of the cap opening echoed around the otherwise quiet room. It would’ve been a little scary to be looked at so thoroughly if it weren’t Eddie doing it. Steve never appreciated the feeling of all eyes on him but Eddie’s appraisal was different. Like the many times he found himself in his boyfriend’s position, Steve knew Eddie couldn’t help but take all of him in. There was too much bare flesh and open canvas to do anything but. Instead of hiding like he tried to the first couple of times, Steve spread his legs and moaned lightly to incite the right kind of invitation.

The easy connection they had luckily translated into the physical realm, too. Eddie didn’t need to actually be told anything, he understood Steve’s nod and the way he opened himself up to be taken at will. Soon, cold lube was spread along Steve’s rim – Eddie teased the slick into the skin there long enough for Steve to roll his hips up in hopes of more. Never one to deny him anything, Eddie took the hint and slipped his forefinger inside. The subtle slide of it within him had Steve arching up into the touch, a soft “fuck” leaving his lips. No matter how many times they did this, Steve never got used to the complete feeling that rushed over him. Eddie filled up all the empty spaces in Steve’s life – there was no denying that now.

One finger drifted into two and then three – Eddie took his time thrusting in and spreading his fingers to loosen up Steve’s tight walls. He took great pleasure in pushing in just enough to do the job but not enough to touch that bundle deep inside. That was for Eddie’s cock only. Steve both loved and hated the way Eddie took care of him so thoroughly – he didn’t believe that Eddie understood him so well until he finally nailed into Steve’s prostate for the first time to make him cum hands free. The torture, while hard to stomach in the moment, was the most exquisite thing Steve had every experienced. He was confident enough in Eddie’s ability to give him what he needed and did his best to relax back and take it.

The tearing of a condom wrapper brought Steve back to the moment where three fingers were slipping out of him. He tried not to clench back against the empty feeling, though that was easier said than done. Steve wanted to be filled to the brim with Eddie and the moments it took to get there were almost too much. Counting to ten helped calm him down – before he got to nine, Eddie was back between his legs, pushing the tip of his cock against Steve’s rim.

“You ready, baby?”

Speaking was hard so Steve nodded enthusiastically and reached up to grab onto Eddie’s cheeks. He pulled him down for a kiss as Eddie thrust his hips forward. They groaned into each other’s mouths at the feeling of becoming one. The lingering novelty of it was a good enough distraction to pull Steve’s mind away from the burn of being stretched open so deliciously. Eddie was well endowed and took up space no matter the prep. Thankfully, Eddie was also kind and courteous enough to linger for a few moments before starting to thrust.

Steve wrapping his legs around Eddie’s waist was sign enough – the thick cock splitting him open pulled back until only the tip remained inside. Eddie lingered there, letting Steve feel the emptiness before thrusting back inside. He did that a few more times before the tight clench of Steve’s muscles became too good to leave for long. It probably didn’t hurt, either, that Steve was chanting praise and mumbling for more. Never, in all of his life, did Steve think he’d be such a needy bottom. Yet, the longer he spent time with Eddie, who instinctively knew how to take care of him, the more Steve understood the wants buried inside of him. He thoroughly appreciated getting taken apart by Eddie’s immense skill and eye for detail.

It didn’t take saying anything for Steve to get exactly what he wanted from Eddie. Steve simply tightened the hold of his thighs on Eddie’s waist and the pace increased. He rolled his hips a bit to change the angle and Eddie complied, shifting himself to finally find that spot inside of Steve that made him see stars. From there, Steve forgot everything aside from the steady nerve ending thrum of pleasure overtaking his entire body. His fingers tingled from the sensation of being completely washed out by overwhelming arousal. It didn’t take long for conscious thought to leave him and the begging to begin.

“Eddie, please – please – “ Steve babbled the words out like they would solve all of his problems. He sounded desperate and strung out, completely fucked through and through. And though even Steve didn’t really know what he was asking for, Eddie seemed to understand. His thrusts shortened until his hips were barely moving. Rolling them instead, Eddie pressed the tip of his cock so deliciously against Steve’s prostate that his vision whited out. It only took a couple more moves like that to draw Steve right over the edge. He came with a shout of Eddie’s name rushing from his lips.

Steve must’ve passed out following one of the best orgasms of his life because the next time he blinked, Eddie was spooned up behind him, dead to the world. Looking down at himself, Steve was happily surprised to see his chest hair wasn’t matted down with dried cum and lube. Instead, Eddie’s fingers were tangled in the patch closest to Steve’s heart, clinging there. He was warm and tired and deliriously fucked out. It took him a second to remember why he couldn’t just go back to sleep – the call of nestling back into Eddie’s embrace was almost too much. After a couple of long breaths, Steve reminded himself that a couple more minutes of consciousness was worth the reaction he hoped to get from Eddie in the morning.

It took more effort than Steve wanted to admit to roll out of Eddie’s arms. He sat up as quietly as he could, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to press his feet flat on the floor. The cold he knew would be there finished waking him up. Not bothering to put clothes back on, Steve went about doing what he needed to make sure the last piece of his Christmas present went exactly as planned. When he was done, Steve crawled back into bed, nuzzling Eddie until he rolled over and wrapped an arm around Steve once again.

The alarm blaring dragged Steve out of the best sleep of his life a few hours later. He blinked a couple of times, trying to reorient himself back to reality. It was easy to do that when Eddie groaned loudly – “Steve, stop the noise.” His voice was whiny and syrupy thick, petulant but cute all the same.

“I will, but you have to get up. I have something I want to show you.”

They quickly got dressed in the pajama bottoms they were wearing last night before Steve led them out into the hallway. Eddie looked absolutely adorable wrapped up in his comforter, despite the grumpy look he was shooting Steve’s way. He tried to cling to the lovely sight as he reached up to drag down the attic stairs. Eddi’s eyebrows shot up, his glance turning incredulous, though he thankfully didn’t say anything. Steve thanked whatever was above for Eddie’s never ending petulance. “Up we go. It’s almost time.” Steve waited until Eddie was safely up the stairs before following him.

The chill in the attic was jolting. Steve’s teeth starting to chatter almost immediately. Seeing this, Eddie opened up his blanket cocoon, offering up the remain space inside. “I know you didn’t wake up at the ass crack of the morning to freeze to death.”

“You’re right. I got us up for that, instead,” Steve said, pointing to the wide bay window that faced a small trail behind his house. The sun was slowly coming up to paint the sky with pink and purple and blue and the craziest shade of orange that Steve had ever seen. He tucked himself into Eddie’s side as the other boy watched with unblinking attention. They stood there for a while, quietly watching the light start to shine on the day.

“Merry Christmas, Eddie,” Steve whispered, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s shoulders to pull him close. They shared a kiss and a soft smile before Steve gestured to the pile of blankets he made there the day before. “Let’s sleep a little more.”

Climbing into the makeshift bed, Steve and Eddie curled up into each other, seeking out warmth and connection and the weird, unnamed thing growing stronger between them every single day.

They fell back to sleep under the light of a beautiful Christmas morning, wrapped up in each other.

[gay-fae]

After watching Encanto, I was thinking about Bruno's parallels to Mirabel (those that were pointed out in the movie and otherwise) and uh. This happened. This is a bit of a character study and it's only 935 words so it's not a big read but I really hope you enjoy :)

(this may end up on Ao3 as well! Reblogs are super helpful so please consider reblogging <3)

**********

Sometimes, as a child, Bruno would stare at his hands and wonder if an invisible poison leached from them; a silent killer of goodness only he was capable of carrying.

Sure, when you’re five years old the screw ups are forgivable. Less so when you’re seven. By the time you’re ten, mistakes are seen more as intentional sabotage attempts upon your family’s wellbeing.

Keeping the gift alive was their family’s duty, but Bruno wondered if he was capable of taking on something so great. He also wondered if Pepa and Julieta ever felt as unqualified as he did to preserve the Encanto. Yes, Pepa had brought on more storms than he could count, but she’d always felt things more deeply than the rest; it was never the same as the quiet weight Bruno was accustomed to within himself. As for Julieta, well, she’d always been the one to take a challenge head on. The strongest sibling and the leader. Untouchable and unbreakable.

(But there was one time, once, when Bruno was at the tender age of nine. He’d been hiding around the corner of the kitchen late at night. A man with a twisted ankle was sitting on a chair in the next room over. In the kitchen, in front of the stove, Julieta knelt on the floor surrounded by pieces of a shattered ceramic bowl and remnants of an indiscernible food. Her face was streaked with tears and she was visibly holding back a cry. Alma stood over her, looking disappointed and firm.)

Julieta was everything Bruno couldn’t be.

(“How can you expect to help the town if you can’t even heal one man?” Alma’s voice had echoed from the kitchen.)

Envy twined with admiration gripped tight on Bruno’s heart whenever he saw his sister’s perfection.

(Voice shaking and fragile, Julieta whispered, “I’m sorry, mamá. Déjame arreglarlo. Please. I won’t mess it up this time.” A small tear fell onto Casita’s tile flooring.)

By the time he was fifteen, every morning Bruno had a waitlist of people who wanted prophecies and a list almost just as long of people who didn’t like him by the time the sun set.

It wasn’t just what he saw that upset them (though, in some cases, that would have been enough). It was his inability to deliver the news well or refrain from making untimely jokes. His way of lightening the mood was usually implemented at the worst moment possible and he always awkwardly stumbled over his words, anticipating unhappy reactions to his visions.

Time to develop hobbies wasn’t always plentiful, but Bruno did always have an interest in acting and storytelling. As a child, he’d put on shows for his mother, his sisters as costars. Alma had always applauded loudly at the end. It was one of those truly good memories he often called back on later in life.

As a teenager, he’d stay up late writing stories in his room, all messily scratched out on crumpled papers or in a notebook. Scripts telling tales about a young man who was the pride of his town and his family. Plotlines following a young explorer who was beloved by everyone she crossed paths with. People not just loved, but appreciated for who they were as a whole. The hero Andres who was worth more than his incredible intellect. The explorer Luisa who was praised for more than her magnificent super speed.

Bruno loved his family, and they loved him back. Of that, there was never any doubt. Still, there was an unspoken standard looming over him at all times.

There was an expectation that Bruno dreaded to think he might not ever reach.

But Andres and Luisa didn’t judge him for that, nor did the rats he spotted in dark corners of Casita, nor did his beautiful sobrinos when they were born. And for a while, that was enough to keep him afloat in the flood he’d been living through.

**********

Bruno shook his head vigorously, trying to rid himself of the sight in front of him. He blinked the green out of his eyes, but was unsuccessful in ridding himself of the tears. He looked down at his shaking hands—poisonous contaminators, toxic harbingers of ruin…

He clenched his fists and thought of Mirabel. He’d seen so little in his vision; it wasn’t enough to ensure that she wouldn’t be subjected to the harsh scrutiny he wanted to shield her from. He couldn’t let her go through what he had.

If today is the day, then today is the day.

**********

The comfort of his sisters’ hugs felt less foreign than he’d thought it would. He smiled each time he got one, realizing just how deprived of that closeness he’d been.

Dinners were warm and full of laughter that was no longer distantly heard through the wall. He did the dishes afterward, laughing at himself for being so eager to clean. He wrote stories again, this time ones that didn’t just feature rats (though he couldn’t bear to write them out completely). New characters who were finding their ways back from the abysses they’d fallen into. Who were learning to find their rhythms again.

He held Antonio’s face in his calloused palms, telling him how proud he was of him, no longer scared of the invisible poison he’d once believed himself to emanate.

(He remembered that childhood night again, and the way Alma’s face had softened as she’d sighed and bent down, beginning to pick up pieces of the shattered bowl. He remembered the way she’d said to Julieta, “It’s okay. We can fix it. You’re still learning.”)

No more fear. No more cracks in the walls.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Unspoken

Summary: Dean is cursed with the inability to speak unless a cure can be found. It begins to wear on him in more ways than one...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language

“Stay down,” said Dean, aiming his gun at the witch.

“Why don’t you shut up,” she said, throwing something at Dean. You both shot and she was dead like that but Dean had a hand on his throat, turning to you with a bit of panic in his eyes.

“Dean!” you said, expecting him to start gasping that he couldn’t breathe but it never came. Dean only continued to claw at his throat, opening his mouth and staring at you. “What’d she do?”

You watched him move his lips and even his tongue but not a whisper came out, no sound at all. He looked like he was trying to shout but there was nothing, Dean spinning around.

“You can’t talk?” you asked, Dean nodding as he found a piece of paper and a pen, jotting something down quick.

Can breathe. No talking though. Find spellbook.

“Alright. You look down here. I’ll take upstairs.”

About an hour later, Dean was poking his head in a room, tossing a notebook at you before walking away.

Found it. Doesn’t mention anything. I dealt with the witch. I grabbed the book so let’s go home. Maybe Sam can figure it out.

“Well, I’m sure this will be an enjoyable drive home.”

“Wait. So you can’t talk?” said Sam. Dean rolled his eyes and rested his head on his hands. “Really?”

“Yes, Sam. He’s cursed or under a spell. Help me figure this out, alright?” you said. Sam held up his hands, chuckling a little. “Sam.”

“Hey, compared to the usual crap that happens to us, at least this isn’t so bad, right? It’s not trying to kill him at least,” said Sam.

Dean sighed but gave a half-hearted smile and nodded. He waved and you followed after to the library, each one of you heading off to do your own research.

Hopefully you could find a cure soon.

Four Months Later

Sam was off on another random lead that probably wouldn’t pan out. You’d managed to find a nice and easy ghost hunt but you couldn’t even drag Dean along with you. That was your rule. It was too dangerous to bring him along when he couldn’t talk. It was strange how everything around him seemed to mute. Plates didn’t make noise when they stacked together. Chairs didn’t scrape along the floor. The shower was silent whenever he took one.

He was like a ghost. Except those made sound on occasion.

“Dean. Let’s get out of the bunker, go do something fun,” you said, poking your head in your room. Dean was nowhere to be found. You checked the garage next, Baby still parked in there, no sign of him. “Dean! Where are you?”

You hoped that didn’t make him mad. He’d been having a bad week. Worse than normal which was saying something. You knew he was reaching his breaking point even if he kept it to himself.

“Dean,” you said again, wandering to your old bedroom, finding him sat on top of the bed, staring at you when you walked in. “Baby. What-”

He tossed his little whiteboard across the room and you took a seat beside him, Dean turning his head away.

“I love you,” you said, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a kiss. “I know this is hard and I miss talking to you. So let’s talk, okay?”

He tilted his head and moved to stand but you kept him in place.

“Maybe the conversation is going to be a bit one sided but we can still talk, can’t we?” you asked. He nodded, looking over to where he’d thrown his whiteboard. He went to grab it but you shook your head.

“What?” he mouthed. You pressed your lips to his, gently laying the two of you back. He blinked when you moved away, eyes watching your hand slide up into his hair. Your fingers ran through his stands, green eyes flickering up and back to your face. He was thinking, trying to understand as you grabbed his shoulder and moved his head, resting it closer to your own. You smiled as he kept watching you, still thinking.

“For all the things I hate about this situation, you know what I love? Whenever I tell you how amazing you are, how wonderful and good and handsome and strong and intelligent and witty and awesome you are, you can’t make that tsk noise or scoff or sigh or grumble or interrupt to tell me I’m wrong. You have to sit back and take it,” you said.

He gave you a bitch face, rolling his eyes as you kept playing with his hair. He started to nuzzle into the touch though, his face turning soft.

“I love you,” you said. He nodded and pecked a kiss on the top of your nose, big green eyes staring softly. “I know you love me too, Dean.”

He let out a silent breath of air, pulling you flush to him.

“I don’t care what happens. I’m with you,” you said.

He smiled and grabbed your hand, pressing it flat against his chest and over his heart. You felt his heartbeat and smiled.

Two Months Later

“Dean! Lunch is ready!” you shouted from the kitchen. “Bacon lettuce tomato with extra bacon for you!”

You waited a beat, no tuft of brown hair coming around the corner. You grabbed his plate and drink, carrying them out to the library where Dean was researching again.

“You want to eat in here?” you asked. Dean lifted his head and shook it, waving you over. “You don’t want bacon...okay. That’s not concerning or anything.”

He tapped his book and you set the food down, peering over his shoulder.

“A transference spell? You want to transfer it to someone else?” you asked. Dean nodded, tossing his whiteboard at you.

We can’t break it so let’s move it. Move the spell to someone it won’t affect, like someone in a coma that’s never going to wake up. You think that would work?

“Actually, that’s not a half-bad idea,” you said. “Lunch first and then we’ll see if it’s possible.”

“It was a good try,” you said that night. Dean was in the gym, smacking hits against the punching bag. “We’ll get your voice back.”

He looked around the bag, taking deep pants, hitting it once more.

“Dean,” you said, his face scrunching up as he swung again. Hard. He did it a few times, the bag bouncing around, Dean not letting up until he was breathing hard, falling down onto his butt. He shut his eyes and put his head between his knees.

You sat beside him, Dean letting you pull off his boxing gloves. You frowned when you saw he’d cut up his knuckles.

“Let’s clean this up,” you said when his breathing was more even. He followed you to the kitchen, his head low as you wiped down the cuts and dried it off. “I can’t imagine how hard this is. I can’t. But if you need to go and let your anger out, you will do it the right way. Tape up your hands next time, Ali.”

He nodded, glancing up through his eyelashes.

“What would you like for dinner?” you asked. He shrugged. “Pizza?”

“Uf,” you heard him say, both of you wide eyed. “Igaf!”

“You can talk!” you said. Dean did a fist pump and jumped up and down, his sneakers making the cement floor smack. “Sammy! I think the curse is broken!”

“Really? That’s awesome!” he shouted back, wandering into the kitchen after a moment. Dean was still making baby noises though and he was quickly frowning. “So it’s been about six months. Could have been a timing thing.”

“Yeah,” you said, staring at Dean.

“Ea,” he said, pouting. “Ea icese.”

“I have no idea what he’s trying to say,” said Sam.

“Dean,” you said.

“Ea,” said Dean, finding one of his white boards laying around.

I’m trying to say Dean Winchester. That’s all that comes out. It’s like my mouth doesn’t know how to make the sound.

“Y/N. This may sound strange but...I think I know what the witch did,” said Sam. “I read about it like, years ago.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Sam,” you said, Dean throwing up his hands.

“Infantiliccum curse. Six month initial period,” he said.

“Well what is it?”

“I think Dean is very lucky that witch only decided to mess with his voice,” said Sam. “It basically reverts whatever the witch chooses in the afflicted to become that like an infant. Babies can’t talk right? Dean couldn’t talk. The other sound thing might have been a side effect.”

“Yeah but he knows how to talk. Why-“

“Yeah, he does but this is the part Dean’s gonna be pissed about. There’s another six months before it fully wears off,” said Sam.

“Ic uns!” said Dean, his face scrunched up. “Fff mfh uc afh!”

“Pretty sure there was an f bomb in there somewhere,” you said. Dean nodded, glaring at Sam.

“Hey, I said fully reversed. Maybe now you can like, learn to talk again in the meantime,” said Sam. “Get some phrases back.”

Dean growled but he still smiled at being able to make sound.

“I think that’s a good idea. I’m sure you’ll pick it up fast.”

“I know this one’s hard,” you said about a week later, holding up a flash card.

“Owiop,” said Dean, opening his mouth wide. “Owiop. Uckin etter. I ate tat etter.”

“L’s are hard. Come on. Tongue up behind your teeth, narrow your cheeks in and drop your jaw. Lollipop.”

“Ollipop,” he said with a bit of a smile. “Oll...Lol...ipop. Loll...ipop. Lollipop. Uck it L’s. I ot tis now.”

“You want to take a break? We’ve been going all morning,” you said.

He just smiled and stared at you.

“I love you,” he said, no struggle this time.

“Been waiting a long time to hear that again,” you said, kissing him for a few long moments.

“Tank you,” he said. “Th...ank you.”

“Thank you for trying. We keep working it and you’ll be back to your old self in no time,” you said.

“Love you,” he said, kissing you again.

“I love you too, Dean. Even when you couldn’t say it, I knew baby. I always knew.”

[chaotic-noceur]

puppy therapy

pairing: Sukuna x reader (ft. Yuuji, Megumi, and Megumi's dogs)

summary: when Sukuna finds you in a slump of burn out, he calls in a favour from Yuuji in an attempt to help

universe: modern + roommates au ; same-ish universe as what's unspoken isn't unknown

warnings: depression/burn out symptoms, wearing his shirt, headphone usage, no-shoes-in-the-house living setting, kisses

a/n: i'm tired, probably going to fail something, and i really want to pet a dog so i self projected :) shoutout to @ezrasarm for being the bestest hooman ever and beta-ing this even though she has never read/watched jjk in her life 💕💕

Sukuna does a double take when he passes your room on his way for a coffee refill. The last thing he expected was to find you still curled up in bed, watching an episode of whatever it is you had borrowed his Netflix account for. As he takes in your figure, a frown forms on his features. He doesn't need to see the look of exhaustion on your face to recognise the sure signs of burnout. He knows the feeling all too well himself.

He knows the wave of indifference that washes over you every time you're reminded of your deadlines. He knows the hollowness in your chest that refuses to be filled, no matter how hard you try. He knows the heaviness in your limbs that are so worn down by fatigue that every move feels like a workout. He knows the insults that your mind hurls at itself for its own inability to push past this slump. And he refuses to let you wallow alone.

The sound of your door being nudged open catches your attention and you pause the show before glancing towards Sukuna, unamused at the interruption. “Get dressed,” he says as he tosses one of his shirts at you — knowing you find comfort in wearing them, “we’re going out.” You move to protest, instinctively drawing up an excuse about how you have work to do. But you stop yourself short, it’s not like you're going to get anything done anyway.

"Good morning to you too," you grumble instead as you move to pick up his shirt from where it had landed on your bed. Sukuna snorts in response and you roll your eyes before moving to usher him out of your room. Mechanically, you shrug out of your sleepwear, and get yourself into a semi-presentable state before meeting him at the door.

Sukuna hands you your keys as you walk up to him, his sunglasses pushed into his hair. You do a quick check to ensure you have everything you need as Sukuna does the laces of his boots. Putting your shoes on, you spare a glance at your reflection in the mirror before following Sukuna out the door.

You slip your hand into his when you catch up to him by the elevators and he brings it up to his lips before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He smiles at you with a softness that you rarely see in public but when your eyes turn to meet his gaze, there's a tiredness behind them that makes his heart ache. Sensing his concern, you squeeze his hand in silent reassurance, and he returns the action.

As you step into the street, you're tempted to ask about his plan. But Sukuna was never one to reveal his surprises before they unfolded in natural order and you're in no mood to pry the answers from him. Instead, you connect your earphones to your phone, pass the other earbud to Sukuna and shuffle your shared playlist as he leads you through the streets.

You lose yourself in the melody as the pair of you make your way to the secret destination. Occasionally, Sukuna tugs on your arm to signal that you're turning but otherwise, you allow your mind to wander, trusting in him to keep you out of harm's way.

Your thoughts drift to the list of deadlines that should induce more stress than they currently do and a pang of guilt spreads across your chest. If you had any sense, you should've said no to this impromptu date. You don't deserve to take a break, not when your list of responsibilities continues to grow and your care for them dwindles by the day; not when you know you're setting yourself up for failure but don't have enough care left to give to change the ending; not when —

Something in your expression must have alluded to the thoughts swarming in your mind because Sukuna stops the pair of you then. He moves to stand in front of you before sliding his sunglasses into his hair. "Stop thinking so much," he says as he runs his thumb along your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes, "just focus on me. Focus on us being here, okay?" You nod minutely and he sighs before bringing his lips to your forehead. He intertwines his fingers with yours again and continues his journey, hoping that his surprise will lighten your mood.

"Does this mean you'll tell me where we're going?" you ask after a moment. Sukuna snorts.

"No way in hell. Besides, we're almost there."

As the sound of laughter and barking fills the air, you perk up and glance around at your new surroundings. You turn to Sukuna, curious, but he's tapping away at his phone. He comes to a stop when he reaches a clearing, a sea of dogs running around before the pair of you. You're about to ask him what was going on when a head of strawberry hair enters your peripheral vision.

"Sukuna!" Yuuji cheers as he runs up to the pair of you, his phone clutched in one hand. Sukuna removes the earbud from his ear and passes it to you as you do the same.

"Brat," comes Sukuna's response before Yuuji turns to greet you. He moves to hug you but falters when Sukuna puts a hand on his shoulder, unsure of how your current state mixes with hugs from sweaty individuals. Yuuji seems to understand. He shrugs his brother's hand off before spinning around and guiding the pair of you to his picnic blanket.

You spot Megumi a little way away, Ghost and Shadow running in circles around him as they wait for the tennis ball in his hand to be released. When you notice the snacks and your favourite drink perched on the blanket, the pieces fall into place and your mouth falls open in shock. "Sukuna! You didn't have to trouble them into all this!"

Yuuji responds instead of his brother, waving off your exclamations. "It was no problem! We were planning on coming here anyway and the dogs love people!" As if on cue, Ghost and Shadow come bounding towards you, Megumi following after them. Sukuna lets go of your hand to kneel and pet the bundles of excitement that have huddled around your legs, a chuckle escaping him as Megumi settles into a seat beside his friend.

"You didn't have to do all this," you say to Megumi as you take your seat.

"It's fine," he shrugs. "The food was on the way and those two needed to expend their energy." He gestures towards his dogs as hints of a smile creep its way onto his face. Ghost detaches from Sukuna to come greet you then and settles his head into your lap once he'd given you several affectionate face licks. You giggle at the sensation as you ruffle his fur.

Yuuji and Megumi fall into conversation amongst themselves and you grab what you assume is yours and Sukuna's drinks from the cardboard holder. He seats himself beside you not long after, Shadow retreating back to Megumi's side. You offer him his drink once he's settled and he takes it with a quiet 'thanks' before falling naturally into the conversation between Yuuji and Megumi. Sipping from your drink, you bask in the air of joy around you as you rest your head against Sukuna's shoulder and let your eyes fall shut.

You chuckle as you watch Yuuji dote on Shadow, Megumi begrudgingly handing over yet another treat. They're far away enough that their voices are drowned out by the screams and barks of the others in the park but judging by their interaction, you imagine Megumi's saying something about spoiling the dog in question.

Sukuna returns from disposing the trash that you had collectively cumulated and slings his arm over your shoulder as he seats himself once more. Ghost stirs in your lap, blinks lazily at Sukuna before closing his eyes again. You lean into Sukuna's side, skin tingling when he places a kiss onto your temple.

"You really should stop taking advantage of your brother's kindness," you chastise after a moment, but there's no bite to your words. A soft smile lingers on your face as you card your fingers through Ghost's white fur.

Sukuna shrugs before running his thumb over the curve of your lip. "It made you smile again though didn't it?" The beginning of a smirk forms across his features and you refrain from rolling your eyes at him. Instead, you lean your forehead against his before connecting your lips together, a silent thank you exchanged.

The remnants of numbness still linger in your chest and your mind still drowns in a dizzying fog. There’s no guarantee that you won’t wake up tomorrow without an ounce of motivation. But, for now, it’s enough. For now, you relish in the warmth of the sun that beats against your skin, the sound of joy and bliss that filters into your ears, and the love that Sukuna envelops you in — safe and ever present. He is your light, and for now; that’s enough.