#lets go lets hash out all the insecurities

[witchering10123]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hakoda & Sokka (Avatar), Arnook & Sokka (Avatar), The Gaang & Sokka (Avatar), Azula & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Bato & Sokka (Avatar), Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar) Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Arnook (Avatar), Gilak (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Bato (Avatar), Azula (Avatar), Aang (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar) Additional Tags: Mind Games, Serious Injuries, Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Hurt Hakoda (Avatar), justifying things that shouldn't be justified, Insecure Sokka (Avatar), Insecure Hakoda (Avatar), the genetics are strong in this family, Protective Katara (Avatar), Katara is a Good Sister (Avatar), pissed as fuck that is not a tag, what has the world come to - Freeform, Whumptober 2023, Day Thirty: Mind Games (Whumptober 2023) Series: Part 30 of a witchering's whumptober 2023 Summary:

He stares, awestruck, as his sister shyly approaches the head of the bed. He can’t help but shift back a little, so his body turns slightly away, and he hates the understanding that flows from her eyes, he hates it. Why are they all being so gentle? Since when did he deserve such kindness?

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How can the world be so heartless and yet so gentle?

Day Thirty: Mind Games - can be read as a standalone, but is low-key dependent on the rest of the series

[sporadicthingcollection]

The Unskinny Bop (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: You're a really good cook and that's most of the problem. The rest of it is that he's too weak-willed to resist a treat right in front of him. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit 🌶 Word Count: ~6.1k Warnings: Body insecurity (male and female), cunnilingus, masturbation, PiV sex A/N: Dad Bod Buggy my beloved

---

She's playing all night And the music's all right Mama's got a squeeze box And Daddy never sleeps at night

---

It's his own damn fault, really.

He's the one who charmed the pretty diner cook — that’d be you — into joining his crew. It was an easy sell. You get off of the little podunk island you’re stuck on and he gets those delicious little puffy pastry things every morning.

What he didn’t expect was how well you made everything else. He's had to let his pants out three times in two months because of it.

Fluffy pancakes, perfectly slung hash, and a pie-looking thing with eggs and vegetables and cheese you called a “keesh” for breakfast. Sandwiches stuffed with veggies and meat, piles of pasta tossed in rich sauce, and thick slabs of juicy steak for dinner. Not to mention the mountains of snacks and treats in between.

He came to realize that food is a key aspect of your personality. It's just what you do. A dog chases its tail, Richie pushes things off of tables, and you flit around the deck like a pastry pixie, abducting people into the galley for taste-testing. 

Like right now.

His only warning that you're coming is a chirped “Captain!” before he's yanked through the door. He doesn't even have time to react before you've shoved a spoonful of something into his mouth.

He's not surprised. You do it to everyone who walks in. Food is how you show affection.

“Whaddya think?” you ask.

He swallows it too quickly to make a judgment, but it's sweet and that's all he needs to know. “Tasty.”

Every time you smile, he swears a flashbulb goes off somewhere. “Good,” you say. “It'll be even better tomorrow.”

He doesn't even bother to hide the whine. “What?”

“They're icebox pies, silly goose,” you say. “You gotta let ‘em chill.”

Another thing about you is that you're a tease. Form-fitting blouses done up just a button too short and your hair pulled back to show off your soft shoulders. A sweet little wink and a touch of the shoulder as you place a plate in front of him. And now feeding him something delicious only to tell him he has to wait until tomorrow to have more.

Your fingers snapping in front of his face jolt him back to the present. “Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to lick the spoon,” you say.

Does he wanna lick the spoon? What kind of question is that? He plucks it from your hands. “Is the sky blue? Do bears shit in the woods? Am I the captain?”

You roll your eyes, but you smile. “Gonna stick these in the big cooler and I'll be right back for the other,” you say.

Carefully, you pick up two of the three foil-covered pie tins resting on the counter and turn on your heel.

He watches you closely as you round the corner and out of sight. Such a nice soft ass you've got. He desperately wants to grab it, but the one time you got goosed, you slugged the guy so hard he was out cold for the rest of the day.

Something pink, creamy, and flecked with seeds coats the wooden spoon. He drags his tongue along the back of it and--

Oh. Oh, that is good.

His taste buds scream in ecstasy. The slightest little moan escapes his lips. For the briefest of moments, he thinks it's better than sex and his cock twitches, but he regains his sense of self before going completely mad.

He licks and licks and licks until every little drop of pink, sweet, creamy filling is gone.

Frustration bubbles in his chest. Waiting all night for this is gonna suck. Especially since you probably won't be whipping it out for breakfast.

He is captain, though. He could order you to give it to him. But you'd almost certainly laugh in his face and he really, really doesn't want that.

The shimmer of foil catches his eye. The third pie sits on the counter. Untouched. Uneaten. Mocking him in its creamy deliciousness.

He looks around. You're nowhere to be seen.

...maybe just a little bit.

He scrapes barely half a spoonful from the top. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Mmm. Smooth. Thick. Sweet. Fruity. Delicious.

...a little bit more can't hurt. Then he can wait until tomorrow.

He gets a piece of the fruit itself this time and the squirt of juice on his tongue is enough to make him spoon up another dollop. And then another. And then another.

This is why your pants are so tight, his inner monologue chides. This is why you need a new belt. This is why you wear that thing around your waist. Goddamn hedonist.

They're not that tight, he retorts. And they wouldn't be at all if you weren't such a damn good cook. It's all your fault for putting delicious food in front of him and looking so pretty while doing it.

He turns to lean against the counter, only to stop dead.

You're standing there, eyes wide and brows raised. You point at him, then at the pie tin, then back at him. “Are you... Eating the...?”

“No,” he says quickly. He realizes he's holding the pie tin. “No.”

Something odd glints in your eyes as you approach him. Gingerly, you take the pie and the spoon from his hands. He lets you. You step even closer.

You're so close to him, close enough for him to feel the rise and fall of your breasts. Hell, you're so short compared to him that he can see straight down your shirt.

His heart races. What are you going to do? Throw it out? Throw him out? Punch his lights out? Never speak of this again? 

To his amazement, you do none of those things. Instead, you spoon up a bit more of the pie filling and raise it to his lips. You blink up at him with big doe eyes.

He looks between you and the spoon a few times. This can't be right. You should be furious. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's forgotten as you shove the spoon in his mouth.

Why are strawberries so delicious? Why is he so weak? Why are your breasts so warm and squishy against him?

He swallows it and, as he opens his mouth to breath, you shove another spoonful in. It's just as good the twentieth time.

You offer him another. And another. And another. He accepts them all.

Until he goes to take another and you pull it away. He frowns at you. You pull it back farther and farther. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer. You resist, but he's spent every day of his life trimming sails and hauling cargo.

He gets the spoon into his mouth and claims his prize with a smirk.

That glint in your eyes turns into a blaze. You drop the pie tin and spoon and they hit the floor with a clatter. Pulling your wrist from his grip, you grab him by the cheeks and yank him into a kiss.

He yelps against your lips and you take the opportunity to shove your tongue between them. Licking, lapping, pressing your soft, warm body right up against his.

Only a eunuch could resist this.

He kisses you back with the same fervor, grabbing your ass to lift you up a bit and it's so soft and pliant and perfect that he can't help but dig his fingers in.

Oh, it's everything he dreamed it would be. Your warm lips moving against his, your slick tongue dancing in his mouth, your soft palms gripping his jaw.

You've lapped up all the lingering sweetness in his mouth by the time he runs out of breath. He pushes you away and you whimper, your eyes wide and your shoulders heaving up and down.

Deprived of oxygen, he says something completely, absolutely, utterly brain dead. “Can I touch your tits?”

Instead of slapping him, you nod so hard your updo shakes loose. Curly strands fall in your face.

He blinks. “Wait, really?” You nod harder. “You sure?”

Something in you snaps. He can see it in your eyes. You grab him by the hand and damn near drag him out the door.

A quick trip up the stairs and across the main deck and he's pushing open the door to his quarters. You bustle past him and, once the click of the lock sounds, you grab him by the collar and yank him into another kiss, just as wet and desperate as the last.

He barely has enough time to shuck his coat about you throw him onto the bed, clambering atop him. You're a bit heavier than he expects. Not that he says that to your face, but you’re so light on your feet that he was starting to think you were filled with cotton candy. You're certainly sweet enough.

You yank his hat from his head and toss it aside. His bandana follows and his hair falls around his shoulders.

You suck in a breath. “So pretty.”

He shrugs. “Thanks-- mmph.”

He’s silenced by you standing on your knees to pull his hair out of its pigtails. This requires you to stick your tits in his face and oh my god they're like big marshmallows you smell like cinnamon.

He can't help himself. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in closer, breathing deeply. So warm, so soft.

You giggle and the vibration makes his face tingle. You pull away to fiddle with your blouse buttons. “Wanna know a secret?” you whisper.

“Is the secret boobs?” Wow, what the hell was that? He needs to stop talking.

Lucky for him, you grin. You open your blouse and a whole lot more than he was expecting spills out. You toss the blouse to the side and plant your hands on your hips. “Va-va-voom.”

He's speechless. Shaken. Struck utterly dumb by the sight before him. All he can do is pull off his gloves and take them in his hands, pushing them, weighing them, squeezing them. There’s just… so much. Round, squishy, bouncy, threatening to surge right out of your lacy bra.

“I am but one man,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle and that makes them jiggle. Like two sacks of...like a pair of...

...he can't think of a metaphor that isn't unpleasant, so he just sticks his face in there again before something else stupid comes out of his mouth. You laugh even more and it vibrates against his cheeks and his -- that... -- and if God struck him down at this very second he would die a happy man.

You let him linger a moment before throwing your weight forward to push him onto the bed. He whimpers like a kicked puppy as you pull away.

You nibble your lip and knit your brow up as you fumble with his belt. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

He's flattered, but it's the only thing keeping his stomach in check. That can't come off yet.

He takes your hands in his own. “What's the rush, beautiful?” he says. He brings them to his lips, first one, then the other. He gently kisses your knuckles, your palms, your wrists. “This is your show. We got all night.”

You're cute when you huff. You're even cuter when your face screws up into a pout. You yank your hands away and plant them on your soft hips. “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?” you whine.

That throws him for a loop and a half. You've wanted him too? Someone as clever and cute and talented as you wanted... him? He's not used to that. Not used to that at all.

He's stunned just long enough for you to get his belt open. You move on to his vest straps next, making quick work of those. He sucks his stomach in just as you pull it open.

Your eyes widen, and you break into a grin as they sweep up and down his torso. “Oh, hell-o,” you say, voice breathless.

He's bright red, he just knows it. “Hi,” he replies dumbly. He hopes the strain in his voice isn't too obvious.

You grin even wider. Your fingers ghost up his sides -- thank God it's his feet that are ticklish -- right up to his pecs. You give them a squeeze, not unlike how he palmed your breasts a few moments ago. The slightest of squeaks escapes him.

“I knew you were hiding something good,” you say. You give his nipples a tweak -- he squeaks louder -- and trail your fingers down to his waistband. “Let's see what else you've been keeping from me.”

He knows you're talking about his dick. He panics all the same.

He shoots a hand out to kill the light -- that should buy him some time -- and throws his weight into flipping you over. You squeal as he pins you to the bed and yanks your pants off.

And then he realizes. Your breasts? They're proportional.

Beneath him is the most lovely expanse of body he's ever seen. Soft and warm and squishy and made of convex curves that flow from gentle arms and smooth shoulders right into a pair of plump hips and shapely thighs.

He can't form words. He can't form thoughts. All he can do is stare with his mouth dropped open. What else can you do when you're in the presence of the divine?

And then he sees your face. Your eyes wide and unsure as they dart around the room. Your lips pressed together into a terse line. 

“What?” he asks.

The line scrunches to the side. “I'm bigger than I ought to be, I know,” you say. You sound as if you've said it a thousand times.

He gets mad. He can't help it. It's what he does. “Are you shitting me?”

You flinch a little, though more out of surprise than fear. “N-No, I don't--”

He wants to say so many things. About how this is perfection. About how you are the most gorgeous human being he's ever laid eyes on. About how this is everything he's ever wanted in life. How you're everything and you shouldn't be so damn sheepish.

But he can't get it out. All that comes out is a raspy, rude, “Shut the fuck up.”

You stare at him in shock. And not the fun shock. It's the kind where you're not sure if you've stepped on eggshells or not.

Fuck it. No time for words. He grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, yanking your panties off and sweet holy shit you don't shave down there how could you possibly be any more perfect?

His mouth waters. His cock throbs. He dives in. He drags his tongue up your inner thighs, soft and smooth and sweet as that pie.

“Captain--!” A nip to the tender flesh turns the exclamation into a squeak.

“I said shut up,” he says between kisses.

Finally, you stop talking. You only pant and moan as he shoves his face into your pussy, lapping at your already sopping cunt. Did he do this? Are you this wet because of him?

He can't help it. He stuffs his hand down the front of his pants to fondle himself. Like the desperate bastard he is, his cock’s hard and leaking already.

He grinds against his palm as he gorges himself on you. Licking, sucking, swirling, punctuating with a few nips for good measure. It's all harmonized by the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard flowing from your lips, high-pitched and whiny.

He's not sure how long has passed when you grab his head and push him away. Time flows strangely between your thighs.

You've got a crazed look in your eyes again. “I want you inside me.”

He wants to say something clever, something cool and on brand for him, like it's not time for the finale yet or but my leading lady isn't satisfied.

But that would delay being inside you and he's too addled to think of anything. He jumps to his feet and wriggles out of his trousers and shorts. If he were more aware of himself, he'd be humiliated by just how much he has to shimmy and dance around to get them off his hips, but there's not enough blood in his brain to be self-conscious.

He kicks them away in whatever direction. Something crashes to the floor and he doesn't care. He looks back to your beautiful face--

You're wide-eyed as you look at him. He follows your gaze, right down to his--

In all the excitement, he's not sucking it in anymore.

Now it's his turn to be sheepish. He sucks it in again. But he can't hold it. Too much blood in his cock. He tries again with the same result.

Unfortunately for him, it's drawn your attention even more. Off comes your bra, and you don't take your eyes off his stomach the whole time.

Now he really can't think anymore. They're just so pretty and perfect. You're so pretty and perfect. He doesn't deserve this. This is a hell of a mismatch if ever there was one. You, divinity in the flesh. Him, a fat, dirty old clown.

This is a joke. It has to be. Someone put you up to this and now you're gonna back out and he's gonna let you because you deserve better so he better just rip the bandage off now and--

“Out,” he spits. “Get out.”

You blink at him in shock, then your face hardens. You speak with the firmness of a queen who's sick of her courtiers’ bullshit. “Get over here and get on top of me.”

You're mocking him. You gotta be. There’s no other explanation. “I said--”

You look him in the eyes. Something dangerous glitters there. “Buggy, get the fuck on top of me.”

It comes out at a hoarse yell. “Stop mocking me!”

You spring upwards and, with that wild strength that surprises him every time, you throw him on the bed. It squeaks as he bounces -- actually, that might have come from him.

You've got a look on your face he can only describe as murderous. “I did not wait two months for you to chicken out,” you say. You clamber onto him. “I did not wait two fucking months for you to finally man up and say something only for you to get self-conscious!”

Fear, anger, and arousal battle for control of his body. Arousal wins. You are hot as a griddle when you're mad.

You sit yourself on his belly, just above his cock. It twitches against your ass and he's sure it's made of clouds and he groans.

“Look at me,” you say.

He doesn't. He can't. He doesn't want to see the scorn that's surely in your eyes.

You learn forward and grab his chin, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look. Even in the dim light, he can see the sheen of sweat on your face and the rise and fall of your chest as you pant.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” you say, “but you will never get this chance again.”

No. No no no no. He wants you. He wants you so bad. He's never had perfection this close and it's never wanted him as much as you seem to.

“Do you want me to leave?” you ask firmly.

He shakes his head so hard it hurts.

You don't grin. You simply release his chin and lift yourself up. You lower yourself on his cock and, as he watches it disappear, inch by slick inch into your hot, wet pussy, the battle is over.

He doesn't care if this is a trick anymore. He's going to get his.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto him, fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. You gasp as he bottoms out, gripping the swell of his hips. He doesn't care. They're called love handles for a reason.

And then you start to bounce.

It starts in your legs. Pumping your thighs to lift yourself up and drop down onto his cock. The jolt ripples through your whole body, from your thighs to your belly to your breasts.

He's transfixed. So transfixed that he doesn't even notice you grabbing his pecs, squishing and squashing them between your gentle fingers. You tweak his nipples and he damn near howls.

He can't let you have all the fun. He pops his hand off to swirl his fingers around your clit.

But you don't cry out or moan. You start babbling. Something about eating and how hot he is and how much you love that he loves your cooking and it's all interspersed with pleasant-sounding gibberish. But he doesn't hear a word of it. You're too warm and slick and it goes in one ear and it the other.

But the sounds. God, the sounds of him sliding in and out of you. Wet and disgusting and it makes his mouth water and his cock leak and that just makes it wetter--

The slap of skin on skin and wet on wet and his moans and your chattering all mingle into a delicious symphony. 

But it stops all too soon. Your breath hitches and you bend at the waist, singing his name like a songbird, the same little melody over and over. “Buggy, Buggy, Buggy...!”

His name dissolves into little yips and gasps as your cunt flutters around his cock. It's so good. Better than treasure. Better than adrenaline. Better than a full belly after a hard day's work--

He realizes he's not wearing a condom. Fuck. “Where ya want it?” he grunts.

You don't hesitate. “In me,” you say between gasps.

In you? Inside you? Spilling his hot, wet cum into your hot, wet cunt? Your cunt? Soaking it? Seeding it? Making it even messier and sloppier and filling you up so much that--

He almost pops right then and there, but he bites his lip. “Nuh-uh. Where?”

“In me!” you spit.

He whines the most unmanly of whines. He will. He won't. He wants to. He can't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Captain,” you whimper, “Buggy, please...”

He looks up at you. Your hands on his chest, your breasts heaving with each breath, your little belly rising and falling, your luscious thighs on either side of his hips, your lips dropped open as you pant, your bush surrounding his fingers--

God damn it.

He throws you to the side as he pops like a champagne cork. A few drops end up on you, but most of it splatters onto the underside of his belly, where it's started obeying gravity.

One hand grips the sheets and the other grips something warm and his hips buck and his head swims and his mouth makes utterly pathetic noises. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

He crashes back to earth like a meteor strike. All he can see is white as he flops back onto the mattress, gasping for breath.

He has no idea how long it takes for him to recover. But something soft tickles the knuckles of his detached hand. A shudder racks him as he turns his head towards you.

Post-orgasm haze still clouds your eyes, but they're big and round as a doe’s as you cradle his hand close to his face. You press your lips to his knuckles.

He gives a weak smile. “Hi.”

You giggle. God, he loves that giggle. He wishes he could hear it every day. He'd put it in a sea shell if he could, carry it around in his pocket and press it to his ear whenever he feels lonely. Or spin it into cotton candy. It's certainly light and sweet enough. Or whip it up onto a foam and fold it into batter like he watched you do that one time for cake...

His stomach growls. He needs to stop thinking about food.

You kiss his knuckles again, still smiling so very sweetly. “Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he mumbles. It's the truth.

Detaching his other hand, he feels around on the floor. There's a towel here somewhere... Unless he threw it on the chair... Or over the folding screen...

He finds it slung over the door of his wardrobe. He offers it to you, but you shake your head. “After you.”

Suit yourself. He mops his belly up as you watch. Shit, this was a big one.

Satisfied, he tosses the towel away. He rolls over to take you in his arms, but he finds nothing. You're standing up, pulling his coat on and closing it around your front.

“Get over here,” he says. “That's an order.”

“I gotta clean up,” you say.

He panics. He can't help it. His voice quivers like a child's. “Don’t leave. Please.”

You give him a kind look that almost makes him cry. “I’ll be right back,” you coo. “I promise.”

He doesn't want to be alone. Not now. Tears prick at his eyes and his lip quivers. But you're out the door before he can stop you.

You're not coming back. He knows it. He disappointed you. How could he not? You're beautiful. You're divine. You're perfect.

And what is he? A fat old clown.

He lays there, shivering in the cold air, too afraid to move. Too aware of his shortcomings. Too aware of every flaw, every defect, every deficiency. His temper. His teeth. His nose. His appetite. His everything.

The door opens. The moonlight frames your silhouette for a moment before you close the door behind you.

He nearly sobs with relief. You don't notice, thankfully, as you shuck his coat.

He launches his arms at you as he sits upright, pulling you into an embrace as he falls back down. He lays you to the side, slipping under your arm and tucking his head in the crook between your chin and chest.

You thread your fingers through his hair. “Don't tell me you thought I wasn't coming back.”

He murmurs something he forgets as soon as it leaves his lips. You're so soft. So warm. So comfortable. And he's so exhausted.

You giggle. You kiss his forehead and slide your fingers through his hair. “Bonwee, sha.”

He has no idea what that means, but you say it with such warmth that it must be something good. He snuggles up close to you.

Rocked by the sea and calmed by your heartbeat, he drifts off.

---

He sleeps well, but he stirs a few times.

The first is when you shift out from under him, mumbling something in a language he can't place. You roll onto your side, your back to him. He doesn't like that at all and pulls you in to be the little spoon. You squeak. It's cute. He doesn't care that his belly presses against your back. 

He stirs again when his arm falls asleep and he rolls onto his side. You follow him this time. You press yourself right up against his back, breasts and belly and thighs squishing against him. You're so warm.

The final time is as the gray light of dawn slips through the windows. He's shaken from a dream and he grumbles.

“I gotta go get started on breakfast,” you whisper. “Just wanted to let you know I wasn't lovin’ and leavin’.”

That's so sweet of you. “You're so sweet,” he mumbles sweetly.

You giggle. “See you in a few hours.”

You kiss the tip of his nose and he's not even upset.

===

You had a lovely night, but you're walking a bit funny and it's making your usual bustling around the galley just difficult enough to be annoying. And the visions of your stark naked captain filling your head are making it even harder.

You're a very simple woman, like your mother before you. You like men. You like food. You like men who like food. You especially like men who like your food.

Captain Buggy's a man. Captain Buggy likes food. And he loves your food, if his constant hovering in the galley is anything to go on. And he loves it a lot and it's showing.

The memory of him lying beneath you, his warm hips against your thighs, his belly wobbling as you bounce atop him, his head thrown back in bliss, surprises you just as you're tossing a flapjack. It slams into the ceiling and stays there.

Your fellow cook, a swarthy fellow going by Bloomer, casts the new ceiling decor an odd look. He turns it on you. “You alright, girl?”

You know what? Screw this. Everyone else can handle breakfast. “I'm gonna go wake up the captain,” you say. “How's he like his coffee?”

Milk and two cubes of sugar, he tells you. You put in cream and three cubes. Man's gotta get his strength back from last night, you tell yourself as you set off across the deck. 

You knock three times on the door. No answer. You knock harder. Still nothing. You take that as a sign he may be dead and enter just in case.

Captain Buggy is, in fact, quite alive, if not also naked. He's in front of the mirror... or his face is, anyways. His body is turned completely around as he examines the reflection of his rear. He grabs a handful, thick fingers sinking into the squish. He gives it a jiggle and it wobbles.

You don't blame him. It's a great ass. Perfect for grabbing and digging your nails into. Next time, you're making him get on top so you can do just that. 

But you prefer his front. That's where all the good shit is. Soft, muscular pecs, perfect for grabbing and groping, covered in a dusting of hair that trails down to his soft belly.

His hands go there next, pinching his sides. He gives them a shake and his belly bounces. 

That little zing shoots up your gut and into your throat, that one you always get around men like him. That same one as when you first saw him from across the diner, draining a pitcher of beer. The same one you had last night when you walked in on him eating pie filling. And now, watching him preening after a wild romp.

...or you thought he was preening. He turns his body around and as his hands go to his face -- he's got a stronger jawline than you'd expected when he's barefaced -- you notice his laugh lines deepen. He lets out a grunt of disgust as his lips curl.

You frown. He's saying ugh as if you couldn't keep your hands off of him last night. Coaxing him in closer with pie filling just so you could feel his body molding against yours. Grabbing his cheeks and yanking him in for a kiss you'd been craving for months. Dragging him to his cabin and fucking yourself on him while you dug your nails into whatever soft flesh you could grab.

You close the door with a firm check of the hips. The slam startles him, but he calms as he sees you. Somewhat. There's still an uneasy look in his eye.

“G’morning,” he says. A little blush blooms across his cheeks. He avoids eye contact.

He'd be cute if he wasn't pathetic. You set the coffee down on the nearest surface and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands on the swell just above his hips and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you for finally taking the hint,” you say into his skin.

He chuckles, a low, vibrating thrum. “I never miss a cue, baby.”

Lies. You've been trying everything. Flirting. Making his favorite food. You even went braless one day on a supply run with him and he didn't even blink. Idiot.

“Then why'd it take you so damn long?”

He scoffs. “Had to make sure I wasn't seeing things,” he mumbles.

He's so pathetic. Like a wet cat. You can't help but squeeze his sides--

He jumps away from you like you gave him an electric shock. “Stop it!” he spits.

You blink. “Stop what?”

“Stop-- Stop mocking me!”

You blink a few more times. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The flush deepens along with his scowl. “Quit touching me like that.”

Not what he was saying last night. “Like what?”

“Stop grabbing my--” He huffs. “I know I’m fat. Quit rubbing it in.”

Pardon? Did you hear that correctly? Does he know who he's talking to? You try to keep your tone even, but you were never good at that. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

He blanches. “...No.”

Too bad. You grab him by the waist and throw him onto the bed. He yelps as he bounces, then once again as you straddle his waist.

“Buggy. Darling. Cher,” you say. “Do you really think I would have fucked you if I didn't think you were hot shit?”

He simmers like a boiling pot with the lid still on. “Maybe!”

Pour l’amour de Dieu, c’est un contraieuse et un tête de cabri et pourquoi ce clown so fucking stupid?

You scoot backwards, kissing your way down his chest. Each one gets a tiny grunt from him until you get to his belly. He growls and tries to roll away, but you hold fast. You gently kiss just above his navel, then the tuft of blue hair right below it.

You peer up at him. He peers back, brow knit up, questioning you.

You press your face into his navel and blow a raspberry against his skin.

Buggy squeal-laughs. You've never heard him make that noise before and it's very cute. You do it again and he devolves into laughter.

“Sto-o-op!” he cackles.

You do not. You do it again and again until he's wheezing and not scowling any more. You stare up at him, fingering the tuft of hair below his navel.

He comes down slowly, cackles turning to giggles to breathless gasps. He finally sees you staring. “What?”

“Feeling better?” you ask. He huffs, but he does nod. “Good. Now stop being mean to my favorite captain.”

He frowns a bit at that. “Who’s that? Alvida? When'd she come up?” You keep staring at him. He blinks. “Wait, you mean--?”

Gros couillion. “No, the other guy I fucked last night,” you say. He bristles. Fuck’s sake. “Yes, you!”

He blinks again. The flush returns. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn't be on top of your naked-ass body if I didn't.” You place lean in close, the tip of your nose bumping his. “And you have a very nice body, Captain.”

Just for emphasis, you grab his side, right at the fleshiest part, and give a hard squeeze. He jumps, but nods.

He tries to dive in for a kiss, but you pull away. If you do that, you'll be here all morning. You stand up, offering him your hands. “C’mon, breakfast is ready,” you say.

“I'm not hungry.” His stomach growls. He glares at it. “Shut up.”

Trump card time. “Guess I'll just have to feed all those beignets to Richie, then.”

His eyes go wide. “...you made bin-yays?”

He still can't pronounce it right, but he's getting there. “Sure did,” you say coolly. You examine your nails. “Won't be good for much longer.”

His stomach growls again. “And that pie?” 

“Should be good to go, but you better be quick. They'll go fast.”

He jumps to his feet and licks his lips. “Well, keep some for me! Lemme-- Lemme get dressed and I'll be right down.”

“Don't take too long,” you say.

You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand. With a yank and a twirl, he pulls you flush against him and into a kiss.

You melt right into it. Rough lips move against yours, his warm body molds against you, strong arms holding you tight, belly pressing against yours... his nose squishing into your cheek. Wonderful, all of it.

You separate with a pop. He grins at you and wipes his wrist along his lips. “Didn’t think I was gonna let you leave without that?”

You blush. Now he decides to be slick. “Just get dressed.”

You twirl him around and, with a flat hand, you swat his ass. Just to see it quiver. The slap echoes in the small room and he jumps, but you can't stick around to see the look on his face.

You've got work to do.

---

Special thanks to my bf, Meg, and Ollie for beta-ing!

To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar

[tiedyeflannels]

Dating Rumors pt. 2

Jungkook x reader

Word count: 1.9k

Dating Rumors: pt.1

Main Masterlist

A/N: Hi!!!! Thank you to everybody who liked the first part of Dating Rumors so much, that I had to make a second part! This one's for you! And thanks to @maple-leaves-in-the-wind for helping me make some decisions. Anyway... Enjoy!

“When are you two going to straighten things out,” Taehyung asked.

It had been about a month since Jungkook’s confession at my apartment and things were far from being “okay” between us.

We were awkward whenever we looked at each other and couldn’t have a proper conversation like we did before all of this happened and because of that, the members started to ask questions.

On the other hand, the news about Jungkook and the girl he was “supposedly” dating only lasted a week before it became old news because Jungkook let everyone know, on live, that he wasn’t dating anyone. 

I sighed, closing my laptop.

“I don’t know, Tae. How do you even start a conversation like that? ‘Hey Jk, I’m sorry I kinda blew you off when you confessed a few weeks ago. It’s just that I was thinking about you and your career instead of hearing you out on what you wanted because I care that much for you’?”

I shook my head as I sighed again. 

Honestly, I don’t think I was thinking right at that moment. My best friend just confessed that he was in love with me and I let my insecurities get the better of me. I don’t think anybody would think rationally at a moment like that. 

He looked me straight in the eyes.

“Yes.”

I huffed.

He leaned back in his chair, “Listen, Y/n, this is eating you both up inside and all of us are starting to worry. The faster you guys hash this out, the faster things go back to normal. And I’m not saying this because all of us are tired of seeing you two wallow in your feelings,” I rolled my eyes.

He continued.

“But because this,” he vaguely gestured in the air, “is affecting your work and his’.” 

I nodded, “Yeah… You’re right. I’ll head over to his place later today and figure it out.”

He smiled before Yoongi walked in the room and looked between us.

“What are you guys up to?”

“I was just talking to her about the situation between her and Jungkook,” Tae stated.

Yoongi turned his gaze to me, “Dude, you gotta figure that out.”

I huffed. “I know!”

KNOCK! KNOCK!

I was standing in front of Jungkook’s apartment. I texted him after my talk with Tae, asking if I could go over to his place to talk. He agreed and I told him that I would stop by whenever I finished with work.

So now, here I am… at 10:32… pm.

I threw my head back and sighed, rubbing my hand over my face.

Maybe, I should've waited until tomorrow…

I was about to turn around when I heard some thumping from behind the door before it quickly opened to show a disheveled Jungkook. I smiled when I saw his hair sticking out in every direction.

“Hey, Y/n/n!”

“Hey, Kook… Sorry if I woke you up. I can come back another time if-”

“No no no! It’s fine,” he hurriedly shook his head.

“I wasn’t sure when you were coming over and kinda put off cleaning until now. But I wasn’t sleeping!”

I just looked at him with a tiny smile as he rambled. He took a breath to calm down and stepped to the side.

“Would you like to come in?” I nodded and stepped inside.

The first thing you see when you enter is the kitchen and as I’m looking around, I see a bunch of food wrappers and empty ramen bowls lying around.

I stopped by the island and looked at Jungkook, who wore a panicked expression before he started to hurriedly pick up the mess.

“Sorry about the mess!”

I giggled while helping him, “Don’t worry. I’ve seen your place in worse condition.”

He chuckled as we threw away the trash before he started to wipe down the counter.

“So…” he started as I looked at him.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Right.” I leaned against the island and sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” I said before he whipped his head to look at me.

“Why are you apologizing?! You have nothing to be sorry for-”

“Before you start rambling, will you let me explain,” I asked, smiling.

He nodded as he zipped his lips.

“I wanted to apologize for the other night because I didn’t consider your feelings.”

I looked away from him and then continued, “I got scared when you confessed and got defensive which made me say things I didn’t mean and on top of all of that, I completely disregarded your feelings, so… I’m sorry.” 

By the end of my apology, I had my eyes on the floor as I nervously fiddled with my hands. Jungkook moved to stand in front of me and grabbed my hands.

“Listen,” he started as I raised my head to look at him, “I’m the one that should be apologizing considering that I was the one that confessed and put you in that position in the first place. I should’ve just waited until the next day to explain what was going on.”

I shook my head, “You were just trying to protect what you love.”

“And you were too,” he said, shaking my arms for emphasis.

I looked away as I thought for a moment. He was right, I was trying to protect myself, but at the same time I was trying to protect him.

He let out a breath, “So… Are we good?” 

I looked at him again and smiled when I saw his hopeful expression.

“Yeah,” I nodded, but he raised his eyebrows in question.

“For real this time,” I laughed.

He sighed in relief and a smile graced his lips before he pulled me into a hug.

“Good, because I’ve missed talking to you,” he said as he nuzzled his face in my neck.

I held him tighter, “Me too.”

~

“Ooh~ When did this happen,” Taehyung sang as he entered the room with the others.

I looked at Jungkook, who was sitting right next to me with a hand around the middle of my back while I showed him some designs for their new album.

“We patched things up a couple of days ago, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said, looking back at the laptop.

He shook his head.

“No, I’m talking about this,” he said as he mimicked Jungkook’s arm and then dramatically imitated me “cuddling up” next to him.

I rolled my eyes at the scene.

“So, are you guys together now,” Namjoon asked as he tugged Tae to sit down.

Jungkook shook his head, “No, we agreed that it wasn’t a good time to start dating now, so we’ll wait and see where it goes.” I nodded in agreement. 

Right after Jungkook was done saying that, Hobi walked into the room while looking at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Guys, have you seen this,” he asked as he walked over to us, holding out his phone so we could see.

“What,” I asked, taking the phone.

Nothing prepared me for what I was going to read.

“BTS member Jungkook spotted once more with rumored girlfriend,” I read out loud before scrolling a bit further to read more of the article.

“Jungkook was recently seen hugging a girl at his apartment complex. Fans think that he might have a secret relationship considering this is the second time this has happened."

“WHAT?!” Jungkook and I exclaimed in tandem.

I looked at Jungkook and saw the concerned expression that bordered fear. I’m sure I wore the same expression as he looked at me.

“Well… at least they don’t know your name,” Jin spoke up, trying to defuse the tension in the air.

I was about to look on the bright side when I scrolled a little further. 

“Unlike the previous time, the girl in the photos has now been identified as Big Hit’s lead graphic designer L/n Y/n. You’ve got to be kidding me,” I sighed as I flopped back into the couch and held out the phone so Hobi could take it back.

Once he took it back I ran my hands over my face in frustration as Jungkook flopped back with me. 

“What are you guys going to do,” Jimin asked in a soft tone.

I groaned before turning to look at Jungkook. We all sat in silence for a while, thinking about what to do before Jungkook quickly sat up and turned to me.

“I think I know what to do! Would you mind meeting me at my place later tonight?” I nodded.

~

“So, what’s your grand plan to get us out of this mess,” I asked as I walked through the door.

He was sitting on his couch and fiddling with his phone on the coffee table, trying to keep it standing upright.

He looked back at me and smiled, “We are going to go live.” 

Any expression on my face fell, the moment that sentence left his mouth.

I stared at him as he went back to fixing his phone, “You can’t be serious, right?”

“Well, it worked last time, so why can’t it work now?”

“Because the first time wasn’t true, but we have feelings for each whether we’ve defined our relationship or not, so I don’t think it would be right to lie to ARMY,” I said, walking over to the side of the couch.

“Who said we were going to lie,” he asked, looking over to me after pressing something on the phone.

I looked over at his phone to see the countdown reach zero before starting the live.

“Kook,” I panicked and moved away from the couch, off to the side so the camera couldn’t pick me up. 

He got up and walked over to me, “It’s okay. ARMYs are the sweetest, most understanding people I know. They’ll understand if we tell them the truth, okay?”

I looked at him for a moment before nodding, “Okay, I’m trusting you.”

He gently took my hand and led me back to the side of the couch.

“Wait here until I introduce you. They might start a riot if you just show up without any warning,” he whispered.

I quietly chuckled, “Sounds like you have some experience.”

“Maybe once or twice,” he said before taking his seat in front of the camera.

“Hey guys,” he said, waving to the camera.

I sat down on the arm of the couch, watching him talk with ARMY for a bit. I smiled when he started laughing at something that was said in the chat, but soon enough people started to ask about the dating rumors. 

“So, I know all of you are curious about Y/n, the girl in the pictures with me. Just like all of you, she’s someone very important to me. She’s been my best friend for a very long time and I would really like to keep her in my life,” he said and a smile crept its way on my face.

“So, let me introduce all of you to her,” he looked over to me and patted the seat next to him.

I took a breath before standing up and taking a seat beside him.

“Hi, ARMY,” I said as I shyly waved at the camera.

The chat started to move quickly since I came into frame and we were trying to read them until one caught Jungkook’s eye.

“Are you guys dating,” he read aloud, looking to me.

I turned to look at him and then back at the chat, reading the messages.

She’s so pretty!!

You guys look cute together!

If you weren’t already together, I would ship!!!

I smiled and looked back at him, nodding.

He smiled brightly as wrapped an arm around my torso tugging me closer.

I smiled back at him and while looking at me, he proudly declared, “Yeah. We’re dating.”

[jesse-pinko]

Additional Gravity Falls OC doodles! Matilda Pines is the triplet sister of Dipper and Mabel Pines. Intuitive and thoughtful, Matilda often finds herself in the particularly unfortunate position of acting as family mediator to the rest of the Pines family, and her quiet agreeability sometimes leads to her feeling eclipsed by her siblings’ more domineering personalities. When Grunkle Stan lets the triplets each pick out something from the gift shop at the end of “Tourist Trapped”, Matilda opts to take a spellbook someone left behind (I wouldn’t be at all surprised if lost-and-found items at the Mystery Shack are promptly resold as new merchandise by Stan). She discovers a talent for witchcraft, and quickly latches onto it as a core part of her identity. Despite her more macabre interests and borderline coddling of her family, Matilda is not as easy a target as she appears at first glance, and handles bullies easily with a sharp tongue and a blasé attitude. She’s also just as predisposed to holding grudges as either of her uncles, and is especially unlikely to forget slights against her family. Matilda is also happily attuned as to whether a bad idea is “fun bad” or “actually a bad idea” and is more likely than not to join in on or even instigate “fun bad” ideas with her siblings. Over the course of the series she becomes more confident in doling out hard truths when she thinks her family needs to hear them, which is pretty often. Matilda is indulgent with and protective of Mabel, and doesn’t tease Dipper as much as the rest of the family because she knows it actually upsets him. By the end of the series she has a good idea of who Stan is as a person, his insecurities and how far he would go to protect his family, and is extremely protective and defensive of him to other people. Because of this, she is initially distrustful of and aloof towards Ford. She is furious that his egomania and projection onto Dipper led to a rift between her siblings that caused the apocalypse, and I’m thinking I would pair the two of them off during Weirdmaggedon to hash this out. Post-Weirdmaggedon, in the likely scenario that Bill returns, she finds out that her powers come from being a reincarnated Euclydian, who purposefully sought out the powers Bill Cipher came by naturally so that her spirit could survive Euclydia’s destruction and seek revenge/ prevent Bill from destroying other dimensions, and that this past incarnation chose to come back as her specifically to be present for what could have been Bill’s final victory. This weird combination of agency/lack of agency + the feeling of being alienated from the rest of her family + having her only connection to her past life be in the form of the demon that tried to kill all of them, understandably sends her spiraling into another identity crisis. When what once made you feel empowered and free is now another heavy burden on your shoulders etc etc

[transdimensional-haboob]

Headcanons I've been cooking;

-the paradise theater doing a mystery science theater 3000 bit most days (I'm like 90% sure that its basically the equivalent in their multiverse anyway, oops)

-frank and clementine still tries to keep contact and make visits if even possible anymore. June likes to receive letters and postcards as a loose penpal relationship as proof of their "mad lib situation"

-I feel robbed that June and Ava didn't interact much, they'd have so much fun and nobody would be able to handle these bar buds. Never mind theres probably a reason why these two aren't allowed in a bar together, but I love their raw chaos and hijinks would definitely go on

-Gloria makes the storage closet her room at first but when Caspar gets back, he gives her the main office since she's da b0ss now, she still spends a lot of time camping with her bts wolves making stew for them, its her own therapy

-Leif putting together a game console for the gang when theyre bored, Caspar is the best at retro games surprisingly aside from the fact hes been asking for a pinball machine forever, everyone cracks old man jokes. Mostly David and Ava, his biggest hecklers <3

-eventually they begin to cultivate a small arcade, leif fixes up a few machines for the diner (its free) kids across the cosmos go 'you mean you have to play the game with your hands?? Its like a baby's toy :/" caspar is flabbergasted, Leif just shrugs and goes "i warned you bro" and does more Leif shit

-David plays cod on their designated staff console in the office space in their down time between shifts. Feet kicked up and the lazy fan blowing, do you see my vision? this is the most important highlight so far

-David used to stream sometimes on earth in LA for funsies now and then during lockdown when he wasnt up for running out at night vandalizing the blank canvas known as the streets

-he still talks to his mom and plays catch up even from space despite the time it takes to send messages. David continues to find her drunk calls entertaining (canon anyway) Caspar doesn't really drink alcohol and is worried about the loss of control, I think hes just anxious and insecure about it.

*I don't really think caspar was much of a dick when he drank raising david, he probably was a rambling annoying dad with a shitty attitude that was hard to tolerate. like, okay, old man, we get it the world sucksss stop being so sad and let's play legos and not roleplay the state of the economic decline about it (shh, I'm not projecting gay son and drunk well meaning dad dynamics)

-Ava peer pressures Caspar *only* for celebrations anyway

-micheladas for everyone the next day, some sweet hair of the dog when the various drank theyre able to get their hands on is too much to cope with the next day if they still even have moonshine to spare left

-Leif stocks up on so much fucking hash whilst in Pasadena (as one does stuck in shitty corners of California for hangovers, generalized depression, and dread. hence all the alcohol mentions I'm not promoting alcoholic diner dwellers I swear-) which tbh parallels the way Ava stocks up nicotine from ye old moonshiner imo

Idk I have more I might add and tack on later I love these doofuses

[ale-cart]

gleestuck dirkjohn (i am doing little heart eyes as we speak please please talk about them)

Vshshshs I'm here to talk about them B)

First, let me just say that these two are probably worse at procrastinating their relationship than davekat is here.

Like, they both eventually realize that the other likes them but it takes a whiiiile. Dirk, because his insecurities run DEEP. So of course John wouldn't like him because of this and this and that, and oh don't forget that there either. (FALSE, dirks actually really fucking precious he just needs a good pat on the back and some reassurance.)

And John...well... He's just sort of oblivious to most everything. Especially when it comes to dirks (obvious) crush on him. John just sort of waves people off when they try and tell him. "psh, no, dirks just really awkward with everyone!"

Which is mostly true, dirk is pretty awkward with everyone 24/7 but he gets the most stiff/fidgety around John and will even go mute with hidden embarrassment around the other. (John just assumes that's how dirk naturally acts.)

Once dirk joins glee, John immediately shoots to his side and they become a duo for (some) songs.

I haven't really thought of any songs for them to duo with ? I'll definitely need to file through all my playlists lol.

John makes things easier for dirk in glee and even helps him overcome the small stage fright dirk has.

Their first kiss was after winning their first regional, although they just got super awkward with eachother afterwards and pretended it didn't happen for a good few months after that.

When they eventually talked things out (via Dave and terezi, whom both were tired of the obvious sexual tension between the two (not like Dave could talk)) and eventually hashed things out so they weren't awkward.

They still didn't manage to end up together, and by that point davekat was already (trying) to be a thing.

FINALLY, after a few months later they finally achieve relationship status (because karkat got fed up and basically blasted both of them to eachother.)

I can definitely go more into detail with the shit they pulled with eachother and their awkward friendship dhdbdh but this is all I got right now :)))

[spacemonkeysalsa]

On the subject of whether or not vampires love...

This is a topic that's been debated about amongst D&D nerds for ages, and like everything in D&D the consensus doesn't matter because we made it all up, but the consensus is: Spawns - yes

True vampires - no

And at no point in BG3 is Astarion a true vampire. They actually specifically made it so he wouldn't be, and I think it's interesting that at the beginning of the game you can learn about how he could become a true vampire, and then even when he gets the chance to follow through and do it, he doesn't. The choice is never a) Spawn or b) True Vampire or c) Vampire Ascendant. It's just spawn or ascendant and I don't think that's a mistake. I think, in a way, it's for the sake of the theoretical romance that might just be happening between Tav/Durge and Astarion.

If he became a true vampire, then canonically he could not love you (as much as anything in D&D is fixed, see above flippant remark about us making it all up and also decades of changing the rules whenever they don't suit us anymore because why not) but since Larian didn't even make that possible, we're left to just argue about how much of a true vampire a vampire ascendant really is. A vampire ascendant doesn't really sound like a true vampire from it's description as a "new monster" with "the arousals and appetites of man" so there's room to argue.

And everyone sure does like arguing. I don't really see the point, because after he ascends I don't think it matters at all if he loves you anymore. He's become possessive, controlling, and ultimately abusive and he's going through the very typical arc of a successful guy who got everything he wanted and is now confused and angry about why it hasn't fixed everything. He's taking it out on you, dump his ass.

I've known too many people like this to really care all that much about the lore of D&D and how it doesn't perfectly map onto real life. Becoming an abuser is not a Pokemon evolution. And what I'm seeing in Astarion is not someone who has been magically altered, or even necessarily lost his soul outright (though imo that soul is a tasty snack marinated inside of a new monster for Meph to eat later, at best) I'm just seeing what it looks like when someone who is deeply hurt and troubled desperately wants something that is bad for them, and they get it and it expunges some insecurities and fear, while enabling the development of new (much much worse) ones. It sucks, and it's predictable.

So, at that point, who cares if his love is genuine or not. "But he loves you," is an excuse that mom-in-law likes to use to keep you from leaving her son, but it's actually not a persuasive argument, because love doesn't mean a whole lot when it can't prevent him from being an asshole. I've seen some version of all this hashed out all over the place on the internet, because this is an incredibly popular thing to argue about.

And, to be clear, I'm not even arguing that Ascended Astarion loves Tav/Durge. My conclusion is that it's possible he still loves them, and that it means fuck all. But, one thing I haven't really seen discussed, but that has been on my mind a lot since the most recent round of this very dumb argument started up again - does this have any implications on Astarion's refusal to make Tav/Durge a true vampire? I'm not at all in disagreement with the typical read: that Astarion is following Vellioth's rules about not letting anyone be an equal. But, he does make sure to extend certain protections to Tav/Durge as a spawn that he was never afforded. It's a small consolation when they're still technically are under his compulsion, but it's a bit rebellious, 1 point for mild rebellion against Vellioth's stupid rules. And I don't think it's out of line to suggest that he has his own motivations outside of keeping with tradition.

He wants Tav/Durge to love him, and he knows that if he makes them a true vampire, they won't. Similarly, I remember initially being a bit surprised that there was no option for Astarion to drink Cazador's blood and become a true vampire, and I even remember seeing a lot of jokes about how silly spawn Astarion must've felt the next day when he realized he missed his chance.

But, knowing that becoming a true vampire would apparently rewire his brain so he doesn't experience love anymore might just be motivation enough not to do it, if he's found someone he loves.

Or even if he's only got hope that he might have love in the future.

[pedrostylez]

Something Else: The Breakup Drabble

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

summary: Santiago's ego is so bruised that he can't see what is right in front of him-a relationship that needs to end so that he can refocus

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 2.3k

warnings etc: drinking, ptsd, arguing, fighting, friend dynamics

A/N: NOBODY PANIC it's just Anna and Santi. (I say just but I mean, kinda sad) This is longer than what I would consider a drabble, but we need just a bit more context for Anna and Santiago's realtionship, and what exactly ended it...don't we? Once again, thank you to Hemmy @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for beta reading, spreadsheet-ing, and being extremely helpful. As I said previously there is one last part to this that I am currently working on, as with all my other wips.

I am a slut for respectful comments, thoughts, and questions, so feel free to send those to me either privately or on ask. Please support all fanfic writers by liking, reblogging, and interacting. Thank you! 

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos

After The Confrontation

Anna walked to Santi’s apartment after having lunch with you, more calm. You had spoken about what bothered you, and she was going to try to make a change.  Santiago had let her in happily, asking how lunch was with you as he sat with Anna close to him. 

“It was okay. We hashed it out.” Anna said quietly, smiling at him. “Just some misunderstandings and mistakes.”

Santi hums. “What mistake did you make?” He questions, watching Anna’s head turn to his sharply. 

Anna shakes her head. “You just…assume I made the mistake? Not her?” She scoffs, pulling herself away from him. “It doesn’t concern you. I handled it.” She can hear herself getting defensive; too harsh and combative. 

Santi reels back, pulling his hand away from her shoulder.  He hadn’t woken up on the right side of the bed, still stressed from Frankie’s reaction to the opportunity for a trip. That stress comes lashing out against Anna. “Doesn’t concern me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Anna’s lip raises in a snarl, forgetting herself. “It means it has nothing to do with you.” She bolts upright, steering herself in the direction of his front door. She was not spending the night at his place as far as she was concerned, it doesn’t matter that she had just arrived. 

As she’s slipping on her shoes she hears Santi stand, huffing out a breath to get her to stop. He grabs her shoulder, holding her firm. “What is going on? You say she’s your best friend but Benny said she looked uncomfortable the other day when you spoke to her and Frankie. What’s that about? Did that get solved?”

Santiago doesn’t want to mention how Benny had sat in his passenger seat a few nights ago and mentioned Anna being too forward. 

He doesn’t want to mention that he saw the shift in Frankie, how he stiffened whenever Anna stepped closer to him. How he avoided double dates, and played it off that he was too busy. How group outings seemed to dwindle to nothing after the coffee shop incident. 

He thinks it's all in his head. 

He swears he is just insecure, like a teenager all over again. That this is just because Frankie is upset with him over the proposal of a new mission. 

Anna scoffs, shaking off Santiago. “Tell Benny to mind his fucking business.” She steps around him, shoving her shoulder with his. “I’m going home. Don’t follow me.”

Surprisingly, he didn’t. 

1 Month Later-Girls Night

Santiago feels the weight of the world on his shoulders everytime he sees Frankie. It’s a crushing weight, that he swears is what led to him letting down his friends-his family. They are his family, and he feels his heart clench at how he carelessly suggested going to retrieve the rest of the money again; how he didn’t have a real plan. No wonder Frankie had been distancing himself from Santiago; he wasn’t the leader anymore. 

It’s only been a month and Frankie has laid it out with all possible scenarios. What is the best way to get down there, how to cover their tracks, how to plan for worst case scenarios. He was initially impressed with how Frankie took the reins of the operation and forced them all to sit down and truly think about it. Frankie always started a meeting with a single question: how badly do we want this? He would lead the discussion, still quiet and listening, but more willing to tell Will “no”, or letting Benny get his frustration out before reeling him back in. 

Now, Santiago felt useless. He had never been able to do those things for them.

A month ago he thought he was at his lowest, feeling like his ego was bruised, his family was telling him he wasn’t a good leader, and his girlfriend was upset with him. He had apologized to Anna, calling her, showing up on her doorstep after she left his place, and asking her to forgive his blow-up. That he was stressed about Frankie, and he never meant to take it out on her. That he didn’t know why Benny had mentioned anything to him and he didn’t know why he brought it up.

It was a blessing in his eyes that she accepted the apology and moved on. His friendships and his ability to keep his thoughts straight and rational for planning this mission only seemed to get worse.  

Another meeting and Frankie’s teasing, shoving his shoulder to crash the girls' night that you and Anna had planned a few weeks ago. “They won’t really mind, Pope.”

“Anna will.” Santi sighs, starting the engine of his truck. He notices Frankie’s small smile creeping on his face. 

“Someone needs to take their drunk asses home.” Frankie amends, tapping the half-rolled-down window before loping over to his own truck. 

Silently, Santiago wanted to see how you and Anna were interacting now that you had talked out your issues. Something he still wasn’t confident wouldn’t cause a fight if he asked Anna about.

When he and Frankie pulled up to the bar in question, carefully looking around at those in attendance, Santi’s eyes locked on the back of Anna’s head. She swayed with you, slightly shorter than your frame but her head turned away from you as she watched the crowd. 

You looked like you were having fun-as if you had more to drink than usual. Santi went to bump Frankie’s shoulder to tell him where you were, but when he turned Frankie was already making his way through the crowd. 

Santi shook his head, smiling at how love-sick Frankie clearly was. Frankie had only had that look one other time, but never enough to bump shoulders with a crowd of people to get closer. He orders a single shot, assuming Anna would want another before he turns back to watch. 

Frankie’s approach is gentle, a hand around your waist before dipping his head to the side. He seems stiff, Anna’s arm that was draped over your shoulder sliding off as she looks at him. A question, Santi assumes, before Anna’s shoulders slump, turning around to face Santi. 

You’re oblivious, turning around in Frankie’s arms as he relaxes, eyes flicking up to Santi to nod once before entertaining you a bit longer on the dance floor. Santi’s eyes trail back to Anna, whose face is held tight. 

“I told you this was girl’s night.” She yells over the music, hand on her hip. 

Santi nods. “I know, I told him. Couldn’t keep him away.” He looks over to the bar where the bartender left the alcohol he ordered. “I got you another shot.”

Anna visibly sighs, looking at him and at the shot glass. “I wasn’t drinking tonight; wanted her to have fun.”

It surprises him how Anna had planned it out to be sober so that they could get home without their help. “Well, I’ll take you home…If you want.”

Anna doesn’t respond, leaning against the bar and watching you and Frankie. Santiago raises his eyes to do the same, watching how Frankie’s arm slides over your shoulder to herd you in their direction. 

Santiago watches Frankie speak to you without saying anything; how his eyes trail over him and Anna briefly before raising his eyebrows at you. He wants to scoff at how ridiculous it feels that you and Frankie have this silent conversation about him and Anna until Anna clasps her fingers around the shot glass and downs it. 

“Alright over here?” Frankie asks, resting his hand on your shoulder, squeezing lovingly.

“Yeah, man,” Santiago calls, looking over to Anna who is watching the interaction too. He sees how her gaze softens at their intimacy; how Frankie’s eyes flit between Anna and you, swallowing stiffly.

“Are you all set?” Anna asks, looking only at you.

You nod, pushing away from Frankie. “Let’s go to the bathroom, and then I’ll have Fishy take me home.” 

Santiago feels something like jealousy stirring in his stomach, but jealousy of what he is unsure of. “She didn’t want me to come.”

Frankie nods, shrugging. “We’re going to head out. Give you two some space to talk.”

Santiago hears him, but he isn’t sure what he means by “space”. He still doesn’t know what that means when he helps Anna into his truck, giving a small wave to your happy smile and Frankie’s nod. And now Anna is silent in the truck ride home not looking at Santiago if she can at all help it. 

He feels this spiral of insecurity that he has been struggling with since Frankie first said that they needed a real plan if they were to go again, and he wants to explode. “Bebita–”

“Please, don’t.” She cuts him off. 

Santi sighs, looking over at her and reaching for her hand. It suddenly clicks into place in his mind what he needs to do. Whether Frankie meant it this way or not, he needs to be focusing on one thing before they go on this trip. He doesn’t think it can be her. “We need to talk.”

He watches her eyes flash in anger before reeling herself in. She wants to explode too. “What do you want to talk about?”

Santiago sighs, looking away for a moment before building up the courage to say it. “I think we need to take a break.”

She stares at him for a long while, panic rising in his stomach that maybe he made a mistake. Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to say; that he needs her to support him through this, that he can go back to what they were before. They were fun, they were in love as far as he was concerned. He continues to spiral until she asks if this is about Frankie and you. 

Santiago reels back, not expecting the question. “Why would this be about them?”

Anna’s eye roll puts him on guard. “I assume she told Frankie about our inside joke that made her uncomfortable and he came to you to whisper it in your ear? Is that why you’ve been acting so strange?”

Santiago is frozen in place, fumbling over words as she continues. “It was just a joke. We’ve been saying it since like, freshman year of high school. We’ve never actually switched boyfriends, and Brad was just some douche–”

“Stop.” Santiago cuts her off, squeezing at the steering wheel. Anna’s eyes flick to his, waiting for him to speak more. He swallows roughly, feeling derailed from his initial anxiety. His anger is starting to bubble over. “I thought you two made up.”

Anna takes a deep breath and looks at him. When she begins to speak, it’s like she can’t stop. No room for him to interject, just her spilling out all of the information of your confrontation, what you said, what she said. 

He doesn’t know how he got here, originally upset that he needed to break things off with her because of his own insecurities, and his inability to focus on fixing his friendships and keeping them safe and focus on his relationship with her. Now he’s fuming at how he missed all the signs. 

“Let me get this straight.” Santi scoffs, turning his full body towards her. “You’ve been making this joke, since you were 13, that you casually switch boyfriends? And you’re still doing it at almost fucking 30? And you didn’t think she would be upset that you were doing that…in front of him?”

Anna pulls so far back away from him that her head bumps the window. “I didn’t know he was in the closet hiding!”

“She felt like she had to hide Frankie from you.” He states, shaking his head at her when she furrows her brow. “I can’t believe you’ve been acting like that–”

“Why are you acting like this?” She screeches, holding her hands wide. “It’s been handled. I’m working on it. We talked–”

“She’s never going to correct you, Anna.” He sighs. “She’s too timid. She loves you and wants to see you happy, and it took…two years for her to even say she was uncomfortable with a joke? Her previous boyfriend was in love with you and told her as much when he was with her? You should have been groveling at her feet.” He laughs, shaking his head. 

Her anger bubbles out of her throat. “Shut up, Santi!”

He gives her a pointed look, talking slowly to her. He thinks he could black out this whole moment if he doesn’t focus on her. “I shouldn’t have apologized for pointing out what Benny saw. I should have believed him and not given you a pass. I fucking saw it too-how she dismissed us to close up the coffee shop. I should have known. God-Frankie kept tensing up around you and I was fucking blind.” He confirms, shaking his head. “You should have known. I can’t believe you. I don’t like anything you’ve told me, and I don’t even know if it’s the full truth.”

“I was in a bad place that night!” Anna exclaims, tears threatening to spill. “Mom had just told me to stop whoring around, and I can’t tell her that because she fucking idolizes my mom–”

“That’s not an excuse to sleep with someone she literally had sex with the night before.” Santi sighs, now reserved about the situation. “I wasn’t planning on breaking up with you over this, but if that’s what it’s come to, then so be it.”

Anna scoffs. “You’re not breaking up with me because of this. You’re doing it because your ego is bruised. Because Frankie is the one in charge and you can’t fucking stand it. You’re just using this as a fucking excuse, Santiago.”

“He should be in charge,” Santi growls, turning his head. He’s not going to give her the space to bite back. “I got Redfly killed, and I have to deal with that every day. You ruined your friendship with your sister and now you have to figure out how to mend it. And we will both deal with it, on our own.”

She sits there, dumbfounded by him, eyes glazing over. “You’re serious?”

He doesn’t respond with anything more than a grunt, unlocking the door as an indication for her to get out.

[lover-of-mine]

When Buddie goes Canon all I ask for is a Buddie begins episode. How would you imagine it? For me the final shot of the last epsiode would be a angsty emotional kiss.

Then we pick up with them in the kitchen where they hash everything out. I want all the clips they have filmed but never used in there to tell a narrative. Maybe they move room to room. And when they bring up stuff like the bachelor party, we get the karaoke scene, you know? Explaining what it was like for both of them to see the other almost die. Talking about insecurities if they mess this up for Chris. What if Chris objects.

But I really want narrative dialogue between them pointing out everything we have ever guessed. Maybe the tit for tat of something like, I asked Marisol out because I brought you on a poker date then you said Natalia saw you. Please even bring up "you want to go for the title". Just a whole episode of them reflecting on how their story was started. Then ending with a, so are we going to try this?

Also maybe it's left in limbo for a few episodes where we don't know what the answer was and we scream in pillows examining everything about them till we get Hen and Karen catching them on a date.

I want a buddie begins episode so bad I can't even tell you how much I want it, but I would kinda chang the structure around a little bit, when I think about it, I kinda think about the scene in Teen Wolf where we find out Lydia has had feeling for Stiles since their kiss in s3 and grey's anatomy and the episode where Jackson and April get a divorce, I kinda want different perspectives to be added to established scenes while also getting adjacent stuff, not necessarily being that on the nose as to have them say oh I did this because you did that, but having Eddie confirm he felt like Buck had rejected him at cemetery in a more subtle way. Like, I wanna know about Eddie's conversation with his lawyer, I wanna see the scene of Eddie losing his composure Ryan allegedly filmed for 611 and we never saw, I wanna see them reflecting on the shit that happened to them, I mean, I really want them talking, just look the fics I write, but like, my theory so far is that it would work the best if they kissed in the heat of the moment and were forced to deal with the consequences later, so you have an episode ending with them kissing, their relationship forever changed, and then they're at Eddie's house talking, and I like the idea of them moving around a lot, so going through rooms while they kinda forcing each other to say stuff while showing other things to us. I honestly think about a buddie begins episode more than I should tbh. I don't love the idea of them getting caught tho, I wanna see them make the decision of sharing they are together, but that's personal preference. It would be fun if we got left on limbo after the conversation for an episode and we are all putting every interaction under a microscope trying to figure it out. I also see a buddie begins episode happening kinda like 606 is for henren, but we have something charged happening the episode before, maybe even a kiss, but we are in limbo, they are being #weird, and then something goes wrong, they get trapped on a call, one of them gets hurt, car crash, let's face it, it's buddie, they are not getting a peaceful get together, and they are forced to face stuff while trying to save themselves and we get those flashes intertwined with the situation in the present. It could be fun. I really want a buddie begins episode lol

[thorniest-rose]

Ok so Steve breaks up with Eddie bc their relationship is just too intense. They’re just completely co dependant with each-other and he doesn’t think it’s normal and tries to do the right thing. Eddie doesn’t give a fuck though and just wears him down any way he can. Whether it’s making him jealous, ‘randomly’ bumping into him, spreading rumours about him etc… eventually Steve can’t take the mind games and tries to hash it out. Eddie gets off on the fact that Steve finally came to him, and masterfully sweet talks him into giving things another go. This is the toxic cycle. Eddie can be the sweetest most wholesome guy when he wants to be, but he can also fuck with Steve’s head like no other when he wants to, as well.

oh my god I honestly love this so much, I can't lie. There's a big part of me that always craves dark and messy relationships in fic, I think because I find it a lot more true to what real-life romance and relationships can be like. Like I understand that fic is about escapism and of course it's lovely to write sweet fic where everyone gets their happily ever after, I TOTALLY understand that desire. But I also love it when characters are complicated and flawed, and where relationships are passionate and intense but with all the bad things that come with a highly charged dynamic like that. When people get jealous and possessive to the point of controlling, and where two people become completely codependent and so wrapped up in each other everything else falls away.

So I would LOVE to see a fic where Eddie and Steve break up but they're still obsessed with each other. And I'd love to see a version of Eddie, who never had anything of his own growing up or anything special that belonged to him, who's unable to let Steve go. Who would actually be mean to Steve and say nasty things because it's so much better to get a rise out of him than to be given the cold shoulder. And, as you've said, I would LOVE to see an Eddie who, yes is sweet and gentle and sensitive, just like he is on the show, but has another side where he's manic and obsessive and who knows how to manipulate a deeply insecure Steve to get what he wants. Like is it unhealthy? Yes. Is it toxic? Yes. Does it verge on being abusive? Yes! But sometimes that's exactly the kind of fic I want. Like I love how you've written "he can fuck with Steve's head like no other when he wants to" and I think that would be SUCH an intriguing dynamic to explore within the realms of a Steddie fic.

I think people generally get scared of writing fic like this because of the potential backlash and being accused of romanticising unhealthy or abusive relationships (which has happened to me in the past). I feel like dynamics like this were much more common in fic years ago and now are much harder to find. But the landscape of fandoms is so different now too. Content is policed to a much higher degree and there’s a lot of judgement and public scrutiny. Where there used to be this collective understanding of “don’t like, don’t read” etc, people are a lot more aggressive now when they see content they don’t like and will readily call people out publicly and question their motives. And it's such a shame because I love variety in fic, and while I love fic that's sweet and tender, there will always be the part of me that craves darker fic too.

Anyway this was a whole rant sorry!!! But your ask is like catnip to me, I want to write a toxic ex Steddie fic so badly.

[lbulldesigns]

Time Travel Fix-It Fic

So a little while ago I made a post about foreshadowing in a couple of Powder's drawings, here's the link to it if you want to read it...

https://at.tumblr.com/lbulldesigns/700252698427179008/mqrmwpi0n00n

I mentioned a head cannon I had where Powder has clairvoyant esque abilities but wasn't fully aware of them, and ended up interpreting them in her art, hence why her drawings had so much foreshadowing in them.

Soooooo naturally I came up with an idea for a fic because I'm weak, and added it onto the long list of fics I need to write but haven't yet because I keep coming up with new ideas as I'm hashing out the details for current story concepts 😭😭😭

🤦 holy lord of procrastination, I'm beginning to understand how George R.R Martin feels now 😂😂😂

Okay so the premise of this story is basically a time travel fix it, but it's done differently because rather than characters returning to the past it's everything that happens in Arcane is just a really long and finely detailed premonition that Powder has.

The story progresses how it does in the show and then some with a brief summary of how (non-cannon) the events after S1 goes. So after Jinx fires the rocket, war breaks out between Zaun and Piltover which goes on for three years before the Void attacks Runeterra. Jinx, after years of fighting, sacrifices herself to close the gate that the Void creatures are coming out from as atonement for her past sins but the Void took so much life that civilisation is basically now gone.

At the moment Jinx dies she wakes up as Powder in her bunk at The Last Drop. She lies there trying to get her bearings, as she's being accosted with memories from the future and her memories from the last few days. The best way to describe how she feels is if two halves of herself are catching up with each other and comparing notes on what they've been up to whilst she sits there trying to follow along, she is left in this state of complete numbness for several days in which during this time her family are wondering why Powder is not talking or responding to anyone. She's expressionless, quiet, and operating on auto pilot (she's basically a living doll), which leaves them really worried about her because they can't get her to snap out of this state and Vi's really worried about what might have happened to make her little sister like this.

After awhile however she snaps out of it and has settled on having her older selfs personality, which is basically Jinx after she's managed to overcome a lot of her issues and found better coping mechanisms. When this happens she just breaks down crying, out of the sheer overwhelming emotions and realisation that she has a second chance to fix everything and make better choices.

She begins making plans on how to save everyone, whilst also hiding the fact that she has memories of a future that hasn't happened yet because she has first hand knowledge of what happens when people believe she's crazy whilst also trying to convince Vi that she's okay because her doll state has left Vi even more protective of her and unwilling to let Powder out of her sight.

Some things to keep in mind:

She's seen everything in the future, including other people's stories. Her premonition works in the same way as if she were actually watching the show.

She doesn't have the same insecurities as pre-premonition Powder because Jinx came to terms with a lot of these insecurities during the wars.

Piltover is still her enemy but she's going to fight them at a different angle then teen Jinx did and recognises that not all Pilties are greedy and immoral.

She doesn't know what to do about Silco, she recognises that he has the best plan (currently) to fight back against Piltover but she doesn't want history to repeat itself or for Zaun to go through a trial by fire like before.

She WILL do whatever it takes to save her family, all of her family.

And, she has retained knowledge of engineering, physics, and magic and will be utilising all of this going forward.

I want to avoid making her too OP, the aim is to make her use the knowledge she's gained whilst "growing up" but also keeping in mind that she will have limitations as she is physically still a child going through her awkward phase of childhood.

I welcome all feedback and ideas ☺️❤️

[helluva-shit-show]

Major trigger warning on this one. Suic*de mentions

I want to believe in the year 2023, ppl would know better than to use suic*de as a quick cheap plot point. I want to believe that if someone was going to take on such a dark and sensitive subject matter, they'd handle it with the utmost care and consideration. That if your character was naturally experiencing an internal battle, struggling with inner demons, fighting to stay strong for themselves, and organically came to that threshold, it would be given time and respect.

You know what would be incredibly disrespectful to anyone struggling with that battle? Someone throwing in a drawn out scene of not one, but multiple, characters being subjected to incredibly triggering language from someone attempting to convince them to take their own lives for SHOCK VALUE. Someone drawing and (if they really go through with this storyline) animating incredibly triggering imagery for SHOCK VALUE.

I cannot stress this point enough, when fans gave you crap about wanting more insight into the characters, THIS IS NOT WHAT ANYONE MEANT. This is NOT how you delve into a character's worst insecurities, this is NOT how you give any form of exposition to how a character feels.

I want to be fair to the team working on the show, but it is blatantly obvious, the writers are not mature enough to handle the topics they attempt to hash out in this show. Not the racism, not the classism, sexism, alcoholism, drug addiction, s*xual assault, domestic abuse, r*pe, child abuse, and certainly not suic*de. They can barely handle depression correctly, and if I'm being honest, they shouldn't even have attempted that.

I'm not saying you can't have these themes in your show, I'm not saying you can't have these themes and have your show set in hell. I'm saying if you're going to claim your show is mature, do not follow up suic*dal coercing language with another s*x joke. I'm saying if you are going to include these themes in your stories, have some MOTHERFUCKING RESPECT FOR SURVIVORS.

I'm trying to tell myself it's just a silly demon show about murder and forced found family and two demons figuring out if love is real for demons at all, and I'm taking it too seriously. But if that's the case, then stay in your fucking lane. Stick to you millions of dick jokes. You want your pixie dream dog demons singing about food, go for it, power to you, let your freak flag fly high queen. It's fun, it's genuinely cute, it's brain candy. The animation was vibrant and beautiful and interesting. When I think of hell and demons, I do see a version where everything is sparkly and shiny and enticing. "Yes, come indulge in every desire you've ever had, no one will judge you here." Very much the VVitch's devil whispering "wouldst thou like to live deliciously?" Why would they show you the price tag before they show you the car? It'd be a story they could take pride in.

But this? If this episode ever sees the light of day, as it is now, the writers should be ashamed of themselves. And actually, the fact that it's already storyboarded out is shameful.

[angelatmidnight1]

ok so👉👈 i used to do hip hop a couple of years ago, but while i did like that type of dance, i was also very, very shy, and I'd get nervous and a bit anxious whenever we would practice (it was a bit intimidating to have a lot of eyes on me). I would dance so much better if i was alone because I'd loosen up almost immediately. Oddly enough, I was able to loosen up just as much when we were performing on stage, go figure lol!

Anyway, if you're taking reader prompts, i thought it'd be nice if you wrote something like that, it doesn't have to be related to dance necessarily, it could be related to playing an instrument for example, or singing, some activity that the reader is kind of insecure and shy about, but then some legend (I dont know who exactly, maybe one of the girls?) would catch the reader doing said activity and would reassure them when they get all embarrassed and then would maybe tickle them until they promise to loosen up and smile more? i love your writing, thank you in advance!

Hips Don't Lie

You claim that you’re not a dancer, until Lifeline catches you grooving in the kitchen on a Saturday night. You stiffen up, embarrassed, and it’s up to her to get you moving again. 

“Ku deh. Only one squad left.”

Lifeline spoke, pinging the last team in the upper buildings at the Swamps. You turned towards the location and peeked around a large rock. At first, you didn’t see anything. But then…

BANG! 

You yelped. Whatever hit you left a big dent in your shields, and you immediately ducked back down. Pathfinder was quick to hand you a shield battery. 

“Here you go, friend! That sounded like a Kraber. Let’s recharge your shields so you don’t die.” Pathy said. You nodded and fully patched up your shields…only to have him hand you another one right away. You gave him a questioning look, and he responded with a thumbs up. “Go ahead, have another one! I collected plenty from the friends we killed.”

“Oh. Thanks, Path.” You answered, giving him a small smile. You pocketed the shield battery and gently patted his hand. “Nice of you to watch out for me.”

Pathfinder’s monitor displayed a smiley face. “Of course,” he chirped. “Good friends always look out for each other, just like good parents!”

You heard Lifeline sigh heavily. You glanced at her, then back at Pathfinder. “What—”

Pathy  moseyed on over to the medic, tapping the D.O.C. beside her.

“See? This is my son! Lifeline carries him for me, but I always make sure he’s kept safe and ready to help us.” He continued, proudly. He looked down at Ajay and cocked his head to the side. “Do you think I make a good daddy, Lifeline?”

“Yeah yeah, of course yuh do.” Lifeline answered; at this point, she thought it was easier to agree with him then re-hash the truth about D.O.C. “But let’s talk about yuh parentin’ skills later. We need to move to high ground.”

“Leave it to me!” Path lifted his head and scanned the area for a good perch. He pinged the one with the most cover and placed a zipline. Then, he zipped his way up, alternating between holding and letting go to avoid some bullets. “Woohoo! No place to go but up!”

You and Lifeline followed suit. Since Ajay was behind you, you fired some covering fire at the enemy squad to give her an easier time getting up. Ajay moved to thank you, until she saw the barrel of the Kraber pointing at you two and the person behind it: Vantage. She dragged you down onto the floor with her to avoid a hit. The shot narrowly missed.

“Damn, this new girl’s a good shot.” Ajay grunted. She pulled her 30-30 out of its holster and looked at you and Path. She made a ‘stay low’ motion with her hand. “Mind yuh heads, ya hear? We gon’ have to take this fight slow.”

You nodded, taking out your sniper class weapon. Pathy did the same. Then, the three of you took turns trading shots with the enemy squad, careful not to expose yourselves too much. You wanted to engage, but Lifeline was right; the other squad had the advantage, and the ring would decide your next move.

Soon enough, the final ring began closing, and both squads would have to jump down. The ring pushed both squads down within seconds of each other, and the battle was on. It was chaotic; people were knocked, revived, and knocked again. But, channeling that chaos, you laser focused onto Vantage, Ash, and Newcastle, mowing them down with your Spitfire. Then, right before the ring could catch you, you heard…

“We have our Apex Champions!”

You exhaled and put your hands on your knees. All of the lights and cameras turned to your squad. Path wasted no time in celebrating.

“Wow, look at that! We’re the champion squad!” He cheered. He did his Squats emote to flaunt the victory. “Go us!”

Lifeline followed it up with her Fancy Footwork emote. That left you standing in the middle. You faltered, feeling shy all of a sudden. You swore the camera flashes got brighter after every match. And, were there this many people watching last time? You awkwardly smiled and waved, taking a step back behind your team. Pathfinder noticed you first.

“Where’re you going, friend?” He asked, following after you. “You ended the match with the most damage. You should be first in line to dance!”

You chuckled nervously. Lifeline turned to look at you too, and you felt your cheeks flush. “Ah, it’s okay.” You replied with a dismissive wave. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

Ajay stepped forward and affectionately patted your arm. She smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Yuh still did great,” she complimented. “Yuh’ve made a lot of progress.”

That was a big compliment coming from your mentor. You thanked her, returning the smile, and resumed giving the cameras your attention. 

But, the truth was, you weren’t honest with your squadmates. You actually loved to dance. But, all of those eyes made you nervous, and you got cold feet. It wasn’t until you were back in the dropship that you were comfortable enough to turn on some music, and let the rhythm move you.

It was a Saturday evening, but the night was young. Still, because it was close to 11pm, you opted to wear your Airpods, in case anyone was sleeping. You picked a playlist that Spotify curated just for you, shimmying throughout the kitchen while you prepared a meal. You have been listening to a lot of throwback songs lately, and this one in particular definitely got you moving. You rolled your hips side to side while you chopped vegetables, grinning. 

I never really knew that they could dance like this,

They make someone want to speak Spanish.

You dipped down low to grab a pan, bouncing back up along with the beat of the music. Then, while doing some body rolls, you lined the veggies into neat rows. 

¿Cómo se llama, bonito/a? 

Mi casa, su casa. 

When the chorus hit, and your food was in the oven, you were off to the races. You sang along, albeit loudly, and gathered what you needed to prepare the next part of your meal. While you were cooking, Lifeline strolled into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. 

Although it was late, Ajay hadn’t eaten anything yet. She crashed once she returned to the dropship and got some much needed rest. But now, she was hungry, and figured she could just throw a quick meal in the microwave. The last thing she expected to find was you grooving, especially since you told her you couldn’t dance!  Chuckling, she leaned against the door frame, watching you. Then, when it wasn’t clear when you’d turn around and notice her, she strolled over to you. She gently tapped on your shoulder. You flinched and shrieked, whirling around to face the smiling medic. 

“Ajay?!” You gasped. You were still speaking loudly, subconsciously trying to speak over the music playing in your ears. Lifeline chuckled again and motioned to your ears, and you took your Airpods out. Your cheeks flushed; how long was she standing there? How much did she see? “I--you scared me! How come you were just standing there?”

“I wasn’t, I just got here.” Lifeline answered. You weren’t sure if that made you feel more or less embarrassed. Ajay continued, “I see yuh got a lil’ rhythm in yuh after all, huh?”

“No!” You interjected, your face growing redder. “I just like the beat! I wasn’t…you know…dancing.”

“Then what’cha call this?” Ajay mirrored the last dance move you did, and you felt your blush crawl up to your ears. You turned away, unsure how to respond. Ajay’s smile dropped and she moved closer to you. She put a hand on your shoulder. “Hey now, I’m sorry. I ain’t tryin’ to embarrass yuh. Just looked like yuh were havin’ a blast.”

You shrugged, not ready to meet her gaze. “I…guess I was,” you answered, quietly. Ajay smiled softly and squeezed your shoulder. 

“Then that’s all that matters, right?” Ajay encouraged, squeezing your shoulder again to prompt you to look at her. You hesitantly obliged and nodded. Lifeline wasn’t convinced that you were feeling any better, and she sighed. 

“Tell yuh what,” she continued, nodding towards the food you were cooking. “How ‘bout I go get my music and we jam together? After yuh gwann and make me a plate of whatever yuh cookin’, that is. It smells delicious.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, thinking. Dancing was always more fun when more people got involved. Plus, Lifeline was both your mentor and biggest supporter in the Games. Surely she wouldn’t be a harsh judge, right? “Okay,” you nodded, “I can try.”

Lifeline cheered. “Perfect! I could use someone who can keep up with me on the dance floor. Silva’s all over the place.” Lifeline snorted. She exited the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back!”

You nodded and returned to cooking your food. You shifted on your feet, feeling both nervous and excited, while you waited for Ajay to return. 

Turns out, it was much harder to dance in Ajay’s presence, no matter how supportive she was. You were stricken with stage fright and the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became. After messing up your steps for the fourth time, you let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Dammit, I can’t remember the steps now.” You complained. You flopped into a chair and grabbed your fork, stuffing your face with food. Lifeline smirked, tsking softly, and sat down across from you. 

“That’s cause yuh thinkin’ about ‘em too much.” she said. She brought her own plate of food in front of her to also eat. Then, once you were both finished, she hopped up first and strode over to you, taking your hands. “C’mon, show me again.”

Sighing again, you allowed her to pull you back onto your feet. She let you go, turning up the music, and you just stood there. Were you supposed to lean to the right, or the left? You couldn’t remember. Ajay’s eyes softened; dancing was supposed to be fun! She didn’t want to see you having a hard time. Then, all of a sudden, a mischievous glint shone in her eyes, and she maneuvered her way behind you. 

“Here,” She started, her hands ghosting over your hips. “Lemme help yuh.”

“Help me h-ho-ww⎯” Your breath hitched as she gripped onto the bones, squeezing them. She guided them to the beat of the music. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

“This is how yuh were movin’ before.” she explained. You fidgeted in her hold, fighting back giggles. Lifeline’s smirk broadened, and she held on tighter. “Hang on now, I’m tryin’ to help!”

“Buhuhuhut thahahat tihihihickles!” You whined. You tried to grab her hands, and she avoided you by sticking her hands under both of your arms. You shrieked. “AHAhajahahahahahy!”

Ajay snickered. “What? Maybe it wouldn’t tickle if yuh weren’t so tense, hm?” she teased, scritching her nails along the center of your armpits. You let out a laugh and hugged your arms against your sides.

“Thahahahat dohohohesn’t mahahahke sehehehehense!” You squealed, hugging yourself tighter the more she tickled. When it still didn’t deter her, you squirmed with a renewed vigor, and wiggled yourself free from her hold. Lifeline followed after you. 

“Yes it does!” She argued, moving to jab your side. You stepped away to dodge her, so she just poked your other side instead. You squealed and batted at her hand, backpedaling as fast as your feet would take you. The medic chuckled, continuing to pursue you at a leisurely pace. “How’d yuh expect to dance if yuh stiff and got yuh face all twisted up?”

You didn’t have an answer for her. You were still giggling as you, unknowingly, backed into the corner that she aimed to box you in. It didn’t take you long to figure out that you were trapped, and you yelled as the medic lunged forward. 

“WAHAHAHAIT!” 

Ajay hadn’t even touched you. You held one arm out to keep her at bay, keeping the other one tightly wound around your torso. She arched her brow, giggling along with you. “I haven’t even touched yuh yet.”

You sank down to your knees, panicking as the medic grew even closer. “I’ll loosen up! I promise! Plehehease dohOHOHOHN’T⎯”

Lifeline cut you off, dropping to the ground with you. She seized the arm around your torso and worked to pry it away. Then, with her free hand, she alternated between poking your sides and stomach. “I’m not sure. I’m convinced that yuh’ll just go back to frownin’.”

“Nohohohoho! No! I WOHOHOHOHN’T!” You protested, fighting against her grip. When it seemed like you’d get free again, Ajay focused on poking your stomach some more, drawing out squealing laughs. Your other hand flailed all over the place before it landed on her shoulder. You squeezed and pushed, momentarily stopping her. But it didn’t last; Ajay’s hands found your hips and she repeatedly pinched along the bones. “NAHAHA AJAHAHAHAY! STAHAHAHAP!”

Ajay refused to let up. She continued squeezing, making you flop around. She even had to duck a little bit to avoid getting hit. It took just a few squeezes more for her to take both of your arms and pin them against your chest using one arm. Then, she straddled your waist, still poking into your hips at random. You giggled loudly and bucked.

“Ajahahahahay, plehehehehease!” You begged, yelping when she suddenly pinched your hips. “I’m smihihihihling nohohohohow!”

“Mhm, so yuh are,” Ajay agreed. She wriggled her fingertips across your waist, easily keeping up with your movements as you squirmed. “But I think yuh can do better. I’ve seen yuh laugh harder at Elliott’s jokes…”

The blush returned to your face in full force. “Th-Thahahaht’s diffeheheheherent!” You protested. Ajay scoffed, snaking her hand up your side. 

“Is it? Or are yuh sayin’ I’m not as funny?” 

Your eyes snapped open and you frantically shook your head. “I’m nahahahaht sahahahahaying thahahaht!” You yelled, feeling her hand stray close to your stomach. You thrashed, fighting the grip she had on your arms. You didn’t remember Ajay being so strong…but, then again, she was a combat medic. Maybe you should’ve expected it.

What you weren’t expecting was Ajay changing course and sticking her hand back under your arm. You squealed and hugged your arms back against your sides, trapping her hand in place. It was getting harder for her to keep your hands pinned, so she pulled them above your head instead. This gave her more leverage, and more room to tickle. 

“No no, save it. I see how it is,” she hummed, now wriggling her nails along the length of your armpit. You arched your back, your protests lost in all of your giggling. “And after all I’ve done to help yuh? That’s how you gon’ treat me?”

“NOHohohohohohohohohoho!” You yelled, now full-on laughing. You writhed in her hold, bucking your hips again to try and throw her off. Not only did she stay put, she tightened her grip on your arms and jumped to your other armpit. “AHAHAHA! PLEHEhehehehehehase stahahahahahahap!”

Lifeline ignored you, using her thumb to prod and really get into those ticklish nerves. It was something that worked wonders on Octane, and also did the trick for you. She laughed aloud as you almost threw her off of your waist.

“Oh please, I’m barely doin’ anything!” She snickered. She surprised you again by suddenly worming her fingers into the side of your neck. You sputtered and brought your shoulders up, laughing harder. “I dunno how you n’ Silva can stand it, being so ticklish.”

“I CAHAHAHAHAHN’T!” You yelled, your eyes shutting from the force of your laughter. Lifeline smiled. She continued to tickle along your neck for a few more minutes before she pulled her hand away. Then, she playfully poked your cheeks and nose, which did nothing to calm down your giggles. 

“Breathe easy, I ain’t gon’ kill yuh.” Lifeline chuckled. She lifted a hand and lowered it towards your neck, as if she was going to tickle you again, but she stopped inches away. You flinched and instinctively yelped, making the medic laugh again. “See? Yuh gettin’ yuh-self all worked up over nothin’! All I’m tryin’ to do is get yuh to smile.”

“I am smiling! Look, look!” You, keeping your eyes on her hand, smiled the biggest smile you were able to muster. Lifeline hummed again and moved her hand, resting it on your side. There was a lull between you two, and just when you thought she’d let you go, you felt her hand snaking up your shirt.

“Nah, I still think yuh can do better.” She answered, prodding into your tummy with her fingertips. You screamed and jolted, dissolving into loud laughter. It was too difficult for Lifeline to keep your wrists pinned above your head with sheer will alone, so she let them go to focus on tickling. She hooked her thighs around your hips so she didn’t go flying off, continuing to tickle along the spot. 

“NONONOHOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHA AHAJAHAHAY STAHAHAHAHA!” 

Ajay tickled from one side of your stomach to the other, going back and forth, and she had to really work hard to not fall off of you. She laughed. 

“There, that’s the smile I wanted.” She said, easing up on the tickling after a few minutes. By the time she stopped, you were a puddle of laughter, and remained sprawled out on the floor even after she climbed off. At first, Lifeline waited, only to then reach across and playfully nudge your shoulder. “C’mon, get up. I only put yuh through half of what I normally put Silva through.”

You exhaled, pushing yourself up into a seated position. “Half was plenty,” you whined, smoothing your shirt out. Lifeline tsked and gently poked the side of your neck, making you recoil. “Ah! Hey!”

“Uh-uh, don’t start whingin’. I did yuh a favor.”

You huffed and stuck your tongue out at her, squealing when she lunged towards you. Although you didn’t admit it, you did feel a lot better, and it showed in your next fluid dance moves. In fact, you and Lifeline came up with your own synchronized emotes for the next game, which definitely became a crowd favorite. But, after your next game, you had this burning question for the medic. 

“Hey, Ajay?” You called while lounging in the common room of the drop ship. Pathfinder was seated beside you, intently watching the show you’d put on TV. His presence made the question that much more pressing.

“Mhmm?” Ajay answered from the corner of the room, scrolling through a few apps on her phone. She peered up at you to see you smiling. She raised a brow; you only smiled like that right before you said something silly. “What’s on yuh mind, (Y/N)?”

There wasn’t really an easy way to phrase the question, so you just spit it out. 

“If Path thinks D.O.C. is his son, doesn’t that technically make you the step-mom?”

“...What?”

An exclamation point flashed on Pathfinder’s monitor, and he turned towards Lifeline. “Hey! I didn’t think of it that way,” he answered. Lifeline groaned and stuffed her phone into her pocket.

“He’s not, he ain’t even⎯now look what yuh’ve done, (Y/N).”

You snickered, turning back towards the TV. Path on the other hand, got up to meet Ajay halfway. 

“Aw, don’t worry, new mom-line. I’d love to raise D.O.C. together!” He said happily, easily picking her up to hug her. Path had a lot of practices hugging the other Legends, and he remembered to be gentle first and foremost. But, Ajay looked less than enthused, and tapped on his metallic arm. 

“Alright, alright, put me down.” Ajay huffed while leering at you. You gave her a small, cheeky smile, and hopped to your feet before Path could set her down.

“Hang on Path, Ajay doesn’t look too happy about this new parenthood thing, does she?” 

Pathfinder looked at Lifeline and then back at you. “Um, I don’t think so⎯”

“Path,” Ajay interjected. “Put me down!”

You knew that Lifeline knew where your mind was headed, and you had to act fast. Pathfinder, on the other hand, was stuck between listening to Ajay and trying to figure out why you were smiling so much…

A/N: I hope you liked this! I’m pretty rusty, but I loved this idea and had fun writing it. I may try something similar with other Legends :D. But yeah, I hope you liked this story.

[anachronisticcrab]

A snippet of Clues to the Past, one of my jasico wips. It’s part of Chapter One, which is in Hazels PoV

She poked her fork into the golden yolk, watching as it slowly oozed onto the hash browns and bacon she’d scooped onto her plate. The kitchen was blissfully empty, a heaven send on the Greek warship filled with Olympian children. Not that she didn’t enjoy their company, even though they often shot her uneasy looks and some wanted her brother to die. Additionally, she only had one on her side these days since she turned down Frank. Percy was like a third brother to her, and stood up for her and Nico, which she appreciated.

The peace and quiet filled her with a deep feeling of tranquility, one she hadn’t felt since before the Quest to Alaska. She took a bite of her hash browns happily, smiling slightly into the warm yolk coated potatoes.

Then her beautiful bubble popped due to a loud mouthed flame. She groaned as she heard Leo bumble into the kitchen boisterously, a set of quieter footsteps behind her that she assumed belonged to Jason.

“Hazel, there you are! Been looking all over for you,” he cheered. “You knew Jason back in New Rome, right?”

She let out a deep sigh as both Jason and Leo moved to sit across from her. To her satisfaction, Jason looked mortified. “Kind of. We had a few mutual friends.”

“Leo, please,” he groaned.

“Shut it, Jason,” Leo laughed. “Did you ever hear about Jason’s secret midnight bootie calls?

Hazel almost choked on her hash browns, but managed to stop herself from dying with a long drink of water. “I beg your pardon?”

“Leo!” Jason snapped, his face bright red and his eyes wide. His skin practically flowed in embarrassment.

“What? It’s true.”

“It was a partner, not bootie call,” Jason groaned, burying his head in his arms on the table. Leo shrugged as if to say ‘potato, pot-ah-to’. He turned back to Hazel with a large grin.

“No,” Hazel said, voice tight in her discomfort. “We weren’t close. We weren’t friends.”

“Ah Hades,” Leo cursed. Hazel scowled. Her fathers name was not to be used in the same manner as the word ‘fuck’. “We’ll have to ask Reyna, then.”

Hazel rolled her eyes and grabbed her plate, shoving her chair back with her legs as she stood. “Whatever. I’m going to my bunk. Don’t bug me for the next twelve hours.”

Jason nodded numbly, and Leo shrugged, saying a quick ‘bye!’ as he continued to chatter about Jason’s supposed New Roman partner.

She rolled her eyes again as she walked down the hall to her room. Who cared about Jason’s romantic history? There were way more important things to worry about, like the war that weighed down their shoulders with the pressure and expectations thrust onto them.

As she neared her room, she heard someone crying as another person whispered words of comfort. Hazel glanced into the room the crying was coming from and rolled her eyes. Piper was letting soft, wet gasps and pants out as she cried, her head buried into Annabeth’s shoulder. Annabeth glanced up, making eye contact with Hazel and she suppressed a groan. She had to see if Piper was okay now.

“You guys okay?” she asked. Annabeth nodded as Piper cried.

“Jason has a girlfriend back in New Rome that he’s clearly not over,” she sobbed, tears pouring down her face.

“He’s with you, Pipes,” Annabeth reassured. “He likes you, and you like him. That’s all that matters.”

“But it’s probably Reyna!”

“Annabeth’s right,” Hazel added as she left the room. She couldn’t believe how insecure Piper was. She was a gorgeous girl, she should stop snivelling over a guy. “And Reyna and Jason never dated.”

She finally reached her room and locked the door behind her, an air of peace falling over her once more as she sat at her desk to finish her food and draw. She didn’t understand why the Olympian kids were so hung up on teenage romances, especially with Jason and Piper’s case. Pipers memories of their relationship were false, and Jason didn’t even know who he was when they started dating. It was doomed from the start, more than most teenage relationships.

[a-kaash-me-outside]

dear author im gonna be real with u right now.. I couldn’t bring myself to fully read the rest of the chapter when it was clear there wasn’t going to be any clean up of the angst like you’d said. there was barely an acknowledgement of the angst from y/n herself. I physically cringed when I realized she was literally about to put his dick in her mouth before it had time to dry off from the previous girl ahhhh at this point it isn’t even about seeing atsumu grovel or whatever like we had all joked and bantered about after the last chapter, it was the shitty way he spoke to her that needed addressing, which he himself barely addressed, and y/n straight up didn’t even think she deserved an apology in the first place which absolutely blew my mind. and the straight nosedive into the smut when immediately prior to that both characters had been super shaken up mentally and emotionally, it felt rushed and forced and like I was trying to be convinced that it would be plausible for people to have sex right after something like that.

just last chapter these two dingle berries couldn’t communicate for shit and could barely make it through an argument without waking up the entire floor, and we all spent the past week talking about how we should try and understand where the characters are coming from because being 100% at communicating just isn’t realistic and then.. a couple hours later in story time atsumu jarringly has the ability to be calm and apologize and confess his feelings and y/n suddenly decides she no longer is an avoidant person and has the courage to knock on his door and hash things out face to face. both these characters were able to do a 180 immediately after the climax of the story with minimal effort and address what they had been unable and unwilling to for the past few weeks/months. which conveniently was the last remaining plot device that was preventing them from having sex haha. I dunno. the deus ex machina-ness of it all and their sudden good communication skills made it really hard to keep myself immersed in the story 

at one point I thought, alright wait maybe its one of those times where the character’s passionate emotions get in the way initially, and afterwards the characters will get serious and there’ll be a genuine acknowledgement of hurt feelings and a thought out conclusion to the entire angst plotline.. and then the story just ended? in the most cop out-ey way? the single conversation where the audience would be able to actually see the most character development between the leads happens off screen..idk. maybe i’m being emotional and I should pick it up again in a few hours. i’m genuinely invested in the story but the chain of events in the last chapter threw me for a loop.

yoooooo. okay. let's dive into this my dude. i was contemplating even replying to this just because!!! this is just my silly little fic that i wrote. okay. let's dive in. <3 explanations and thoughts under the cut babes!

i guess first of all i want to say that this is something i wrote for fun for my fiance. i just posted it on tumblr because fuck it! why not! i wrote 75k words, i can share em. and i did! i didn't do it for pinpoint accuracy or a completely fleshed out, super perfect relationship.

i do also want to point out that i'm in a very secure, super cool relationship with someone whom i trust very much. i'm a pretty decent communicator and a very confident person (who still gets insecure sometimes). i guess my point in saying all of that is like, yea! i get that this story isn't the pinnacle of perfect communication, but i think it is at least somewhat realistic.

some of it is weird and whatever, sure, i'm not denying that, but to say these characters did a 180 is definitely not true. these are two people that really did completely care for one another despite not being able to properly communicate it or skating around issues or reading things in certain ways that the other did not.

setting it in their senior year of college was really important to me because like, they're not fully formed, really great communicators necessarily, they still have flaws but they also understand, to some degree, how to communicate? idk man, communication is weird and awkward and doesn't make sense sometimes.

i speak also kinda of experience too. i don't think yn was ever an avoidant person? i mean, yea, there was an element of just doing what she wanted to do without fully communicating her fears, but i mean.. that's life my guy. i don't think it's ever about courage when it comes to her. it's more about like this line of before and after? the moment of too far? a realization turned anxiety to fix something.

another thing is that this was never supposed to be a chaptered fic, but it was always going to have this conflict as the main point of conflict. which meant more developing feelings than originally planned to be honest which is great but also meant that like the conflict is a bit more jarring. BUT

i guess! i'm just happy with how the story turned out and i'm sorry that it wasn't completely realistic for you and you couldn't get into it completely! i'm proud of my story and the way that it all plays out. after all, it is just a story!

i'm never mad at people for coming into my inbox and letting me know their thoughts and stuff and this isn't an exception. though, i just will say, like, i'm not exactly sure what you wanted to completely convey with the message, perhaps? i guess intention and goal is a bit confusing to me! but!! regardless!!

my tldr of this whole thing is: i'm happy with how it turned out, it's just a silly little story, and i'm sorry that it didn't develop as you wanted/expected! /gen

[grey-sides]

Loved jealous Billy... Would you do something about jealous Steve, tho ?? I don't see as much... (Different anon)

Hello different anon! You asked for some jealous!Steve and I give you jealous!Steve mixed with some insecurity! I hope you enjoy, if you're reading this and you like what I do, feel free to drop a prompt or just come say hi!

Steve’s been down this road before, knows there’s nothing that can stop this train from inevitably crashing. Knows that there’s no amount of worrying or pacing or begging that will prevent this series of events from taking place. But. That doesn’t make him comfortable with it. 

It was supposed to be a dumb game and one Steve was fairly certain he was going to win. A little competition between enemies-turned friends- turned fuck buddies. A chance for Steve to hold a little something over Billy’s head because lately he’s been feeling like Billy is holding all the cards. 

But Billy is smart and funny and golden. Billy works outside in the sunshine by the water where his curls somehow always look perfect. Billy gets to wear tiny swim trunks and cut off shirts and he’s surrounded by women, all there to just stare at him.

Steve is still looking pale from the winter because he works inside. And his uniform is ugly and makes him look like an oversized toddler. Steve makes a fool of himself every single time a woman walks into Scoops Ahoy which Robin keeps a running tally of. 

Steve is losing their little game. Billy is crushing it. 

Every night, it seems, it goes like this. Steve gets home from Scoops and takes a shower to wash sprinkles out of his hair. He pulls out a clean uniform because he has to own more than one, and goes to make some dinner. He’s trying to be healthier, hoping that that will give him an advantage over Billy who still lives on cigarettes and shitty beer. It won’t.

At some point in his making dinner and then eating dinner by himself with the TV on, Billy starts throwing rocks at the back window. Out by his pool because he can’t come to the front door like a civilized person. So Steve will finish his meal and flip Billy off and open the sliding glass door to let him inside. 

Billy might come in and sit with Steve, eat some of the food he made. Or he might raid his fridge for leftovers or just something to drink. And they’ll talk a little about their days, gossiping like two little old ladies in the sitting room. And then the results will come out. 

Billy’s current tally is 23 since they started a week ago. Steve’s is at a cool 12. 

The little glass bowls Steve had cleared of their decorations are looking comically different at this point. Steve kind of wants to smash them with his bat. Or a hammer. Or just throw them against the ground and scream. 

Because he can’t stop this trainwreck, but he can relish in its destruction.

They’re sitting out back tonight with cans of beer and a joint between them. Steve is staring at the darkened night sky, silent. Billy had been chattering about his coworker who has really taken a shine to him. He’s probably going to get her number next. If he doesn’t have it already.

“Harrington?” Billy asks, leaning over to ash the joint. “You a space cadet already?”

Steve makes a face and looks at the little stack of phone numbers Billy has on the glass table. Steve doesn’t have any to add tonight. He’s two drinks deep and he’s hitting the joint a little too hard. He never got to hash this out with Nancy the way he could with Billy at this moment. 

“Yo, Harrington!” Billy repeats, giving him a wide eyed look. His pupils are dilated and his eyes are faintly red. But he still seems to be all there. 

Steve sighs and gestures to Billy’s stack. “Karen Wheeler? Really?” he demands. 

A mean smile curls its way across Billy’s mouth. “What? She hasn’t come into Scoops yet?”

“She has a husband, you know.”

“Sure she does,” Billy chuckles, pressing the joint into the ashtray to seal it off. “Lots of the ladies in that stack do.”

“Then what- you know what? Nevermind.” Steve huffs and finishes his beer. He crushes the can and sends it flying towards the recycling bin. 

“Nah, come on, you’re pissy about somethin.’ You want Karen’s number? You can have it.” Billy holds it up like a peace offering and Steve snatches it from him. 

Steve is being super fucking dramatic right now, but he can’t stop himself as he grabs the lighter and sets the paper on fire. 

Billy blinks at him and whistles lowly. “Damn, Harrington, didn’t release she was off-limits.”

“It’s not that!” Steve snaps and stands up from his pool chair. “And stop calling me that!” He drops the smoldering piece of paper into the pool and stares at it, feeling out of control. 

What is it about him that makes people look at other people when he’s standing right there?

Billy’s chair scrapes across the concrete as he gets to his feet, approaching Steve from behind. “Alright, Steve, what’s going on?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and gestures at the glass table, turning to Billy. He has to meet his eyes because they’re right there. And it hurts. To look at them and wonder if this will be the last time. Because this is the only summer they get before Billy goes off to California. Or wherever else that Steve can’t follow. 

“It’s…I can’t keep doing this,” Steve finally mutters, crossing his arms. 

“Doing what? Getting numbers? You’re not doing that very well to be honest,” Billy chuckles, trying to cheer him up. 

“No, not the- it’s this! Us. What the hell we’re doing here!”

Billy blinks and he takes a step back, mouth hanging open. “What? I thought you liked what we were doing?”

“I do!” Steve insists and he runs both hands through his hair. “I do. I like it more than you, though, and that scares me.” Billy shakes his head but Steve holds up a hand to stop him. “I can’t keep doing this casual, going nowhere, just until the summer ends shit. I’m not interested in that, I’m not interested in getting all these numbers for nothing! ‘Cause every day I worry that you’re gonna show up here and tell me you’re not coming back. That you’re going out with Elizabeth or Mandy or Veronica! And I’m…I’ll be stuck here with a jar full of numbers I didn’t even want.”

Steve shakes his head and turns away from Billy because he’s said too much. He fucking hates that Karen Wheeler is flirting with Billy. Is allowed to flirt with Billy. 

Billy slides his arms around Steve’s middle and hooks his chin over his shoulder. “You’re jealous,” he murmurs. “Or scared, but really what’s the difference here? You’re jealous that one of these chicks is going to take me home forever, is that it?”

Steve doesn’t want to sink into Billy’s arms, but he can’t help himself. Can’t help the way he just melts when Billy says his name. “I’m…maybe I’m a little jealous. Just of all the numbers you’re getting.”

Billy hums and nips at his earlobe. He keeps threatening to pierce it. He steps back and grabs his little stack before heading into the house. When he returns, he has one of the glass bowls with all the numbers in it. 

Billy pulls out his lighter and flicks it open with just his wrist, grinning at Steve. He settles down on the concrete at the very edge of the pool and dips his feet in, putting the bowl next to him. “Well, come on then,” he encourages. 

“What?”

“Sit down, Steve.”

Steve sits and Billy hands him the lighter and the first number. 

“Ah, Casey,” Billy sighs, shaking his head. “Nice girl, nice rack. Too bad I’ve only got eyes for Bambi over here.”

Steve frowns and looks down at the number. It’s written in a pretty curling font. Not like Steve’s chicken scratch. 

Billy reaches over and guides Steve’s hand with the lighter to the hand with the paper. “Come on, burn them. Game’s over. Don’t need ‘em anymore.”

Steve blinks at him and flicks on the lighter, dropping another flaming piece of paper into the pool. “You sure?”

“Sure as shit,” Billy assures him with a smile. “Can’t have my pretty boy getting jealous over some girls I barely remember.” He winks and digs out another, grabbing Steve’s lighter from his pocket to burn that one too. 

Steve is going to hate cleaning the pool out in the morning, but it’s worth it. So worth it to burn with Billy.