#maybe not on purpose but i just feel bad when they know i’m lonely

[sleepyams]

I’m so sad lol

[robertsbarbie]

hmmmmmm

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

First | Previous | TBC... Masterlist

[stargirlrchive]

cw: miguel o’hara x gn!ai reader (lyla-core), m!masturbation (barely), horny lonely miguel who wants you bad :( — wc: 670

Miguel let out an exasperated breath as he laid himself on his bed. To say the stress was finally getting to him was the understatement of the century. His back ached with all the responsibility of the multiverse on his shoulders. Both literally and figuratively.

That mingled with his loneliness, it was making him all the more fatigued. He was so starved in every romantic and sexual aspect and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat bitter.

His exhaustion almost made him ignore the way his cock began to throb. Wishing there was someone who would just let him lay back and do all the work.

Miguel’s face blazed with heat as only one person came to mind. You. His AI assistant, whom he created. Perfect in every way but not sentient. He could not touch you, nor kiss you.

God — he was going insane.

He had created you in the hopes to have someone who could basically read his mind, to know what he needs before he even said it. But it catapulted into something so much more, you were so much more. He didn’t even mean to but as he created your physical form he made you in his liking. You were perfect physically, but he didn’t think the attraction he had for you would be much of an issue.

What he didn’t account for was his own intelligence, he somehow left liberty for you to have your very own personality and you were a fucking brat.

You loved to tease him, and wear ridiculous little outfits, he couldn’t stand it. The first time you rolled your eyes at him his cock pulsed so violently in his suit he felt dizzy.

His thumb softly began to trace the outline of his cock over his sweats, your lips coming to the forefront of his mind as he teased himself. He could perfectly picture your lips curling up to send him a snippy remark as he cupped himself.

A quiet grunt left his mouth at the weight of his hand as he palmed his cock, he felt pathetic. He didn’t even register pulling his length out of his sweats until his hand wrapped around the base. His thumb gently smeared the pre-cum from his tip down the expanse of his cock as your name left his mouth shamefully.

In the next instant he felt himself jolt as you appeared in front of him. He swore he was hallucinating, his mind indulging in his desires because you popped out from his watch, in nothing but a skimpy towel covering you.

“Are you alright?”

Miguel was quick to tuck himself back in, “Fine. What are you doing here?”

Miguel’s scowl had returned and it caused you to roll your eyes, his cock pulsed.

“Your heart rate was accelerated. Came to make sure you were okay.”

There was a beat of silence and Miguel felt almost shameful to have you in front of him. He wanted to hear your voice coax him to an orgasm so terribly. His thumb had subtly begun to trace his covered cock again as his face scrunched up to see your short towel.

“Why are you in a towel? You can’t even shower.”

“You don’t know what I do while you’re offline.”

A breathless laugh left Miguel’s throat as he mumbled quietly, ‘Maybe you should show me then.’

“Huh?”

“Nothing-nothing.”

Your arms crossed over your chest as your face scrunched up in annoyance, “Miguel, you know I hate when you mumble! I can never understand you.”

Fuck — you were making this so hard, the soft pout of your lips had Miguel’s mind running wild.

“I said I’m fine. Now leave me alone.”

You huffed softly, “Fine-just know it’s not good to leave your little problem alone. It can lead to severe discomfort and swelling. The best remedy is ejaculation-“

Miguel slammed his watch off, his face burning in embarrassment. He swore you did this shit on purpose.

[dimicul]

how i think the cod men would treat and show ppl they have a wife/gf (you 😜)

i’m just deranged and lonely

Price - old man price. just old fashioned, which i know is sooo repetitive but i believe he’s a mix of either being downright cheeky or extremely formal and gentlemanly. sends you flowers wrapped in ribbons, attaching notes to the beautiful bow (has his own flower girl in the town you live in.) his night out with you is either tucking into a good hearty meal with an action or romcom playing in front, the soft light spilling onto both of you, wine glasses on the table, or fancy dinners out. i can just IMAGINE him playfully smacking your ass as you pile the plates into the sink, chuckling with a cigar hanging from his lips. your family LOOOOVE him and he makes innuendos at the table that only YOU notice, his hand on your thigh.

As for introducing you to the task force, i think it’s clear to say he would show you off. whenever the chance is given. he’s not boastful, maybe just a bit cocky if the boys are complaining about being single or something, would just cross his arms behind his head and sink into his chair smirking, knowing damn well he has the loveliest girl he could ask for. takes you out for dinners, teaches you how to shoot a gun- it’s ENDLESS but i do think he can get overstimulated easily and get into a grumpy mood. ALSO he deffo has that dad side of him where he knows you like a certain food and will just keep buying it until you become sick of it. <3

Gaz - gaz is so overlooked it’s ridiculous. he is 100% the type of guy to only give princess treatment, period. pays for your nails. helps you take pictures for your social media. sends your cooking videos to the groupchat so his mates will send likes and comment under it. i feel like at first he’s tentative, a little cautious, because why would a cute thing like you be attracted to some rugged soldier? but when he does realise you like him for him, it’s date night everyday. sushi dates. going on picnics, spending the night at his family’s place. just a genuine golden retriever, does the whole lara jean thing where his large hand will tuck into your back pocket firmly. when he introduces you to the task force, Price is the one to notice he seems almost to eager to grab his phone when it rings, a slow smirk on his face. he’s almost a little too quiet, but not in a bad way - he looks content. glowing. i do think that gaz would upload his profile pic to be you and him and the lads would catch on. again he’s not showing off, because he knows a part of him is either too possessive or a little scared seeing as the job is dangerous. wouldn’t want to risk anything.

soap - geniunely struggled writing this one because i was confused as to whether he would be EXTREMELY loud and boastful about you, or sly and secretive. i think with soap it depends. he would make a comment on a mission with simon and the skull faced man would get the hint that there’s a special someone behind Soap that’s making his eyes twinkle a little more. wears bracelets you give him, will proudly crane his neck purposely during training so people can take a look at his hickies. but i do feel like he would keep your name a secret, one of those things where it’s private but not secret. as for dates, it’s either Scotland or something fun and engaging. hiking, bike rides, fun fairs, or sunbathing in Scotland in the countryside, laughing alongside his mum. he loves family and i ADORE that headcanon where it’s like he has 5 sisters. he’s jus that sassy yk? would propose to you within the year. he’s impulsive like that but it’s not a bad thing - when he likes something, he likes it, simple as. this is a random note but i picture him with a mercurial, big eyed and wiry girl that’s either loud and proud or demure and quiet. black cat and golden retriever vibes yk? same with Price actually, feel like they’d love to have partners they can tease

simon - girl put this man in therapy first. he would be, obviously, quite reserved and unaffectionate to begin with, but seeing as you’re his girl, his special person, his touches are more sincere. less fleeting. stares at you, cranes his neck lower so you can speak to him - he just understands you. understands and respects you, even if he doesn’t show it at first. his first date would not be extravagant at all, but he would put effort in. drives you in his car, fumbling with the cd player, explaining to you gruffly what his favourite one is. values your opinion, i think, definitely picks up on your favourite food, favourite type of music, what colour you look good in. sarcastic and dry, but sometimes finds himself speechless near you. slowly and slowly you peel him down to his core and you trust him, take care of him, and he does his best for you too. starts to bring you around to his apartment, acts annoyed when things like your makeup brushes and wipes and lashes are being scattered in his bathroom, but grows to love it. becomes almost worried when you don’t leave a piece of yourself wherever you are. he’s a gentle giant when in love, i hate this idea that he’s sex-fuelled and calloused and would man handle you, the poor guy has been through that shit himself, and he’s confident enough to know what a woman wants and needs. lets you dress him, maybe even teased the idea of matching outfits. COOKING FOR HIM would be the key to his heart, but even if you pass him a pot noodle, he would mumble a ‘cheers lovie’ and moves closer to you. security and trust, that’s all he needs.

i do think the team would have no idea you existed. read a fic here where it was like the task force find out simon has a whole wife and kids when helping him move and it’s so true honestly, but can you blame him? bro had his whole family exposed and hunted, no wonder he’s so so so protective over you. (i could rant about si for days.) i have this feeling that introducing him to your family almost panics him internally, so he distances himself for a couple of days. not to upset or offend you, just to collect himself, because maybe for once, he could have his family back. on your first year mark, he takes you Joseph’s grave and breaks down. i think that’s when you realise this man is in love with you and there’s no way you couldn’t love him back.

DEFINITELY spoils tf out of you, helps takes your heels off, kisses you affectionately, like he pours his soul into it. new nails, new clothes, new everything, how could he NOT spoil his love?

alejandro - i wanted to add him because recently i’ve just been obsessed. yeah you guys deffo met at a bar and had a one night stand, and you’re the cynical book reader with no filter and he grows to fckin love it. the whole team knows about you before you know about them 😭 gives you a lift home in the jeep, wearing the same dress from the night before, mascara smudged, on edge because some wide mf with a skull mask is glaring at you and this scotsman is making your hangover worse. GOD he’s whipped from the first night, has your number written on a napkin, messages you after a couple of days. when you slowly let your guard down, you realise his flair and his attitude is sexy as hell, and he then takes you out on a proper date, at a family based restaurant with good asf food. tells you about his life, his friends, his missions. definitely likes buying you lingerie, dimples popping out whenever he opens his phone and sees a pic of you clad in a dusty pink set. probably the more petty one 😭 he’s not really a date guy imo, you can quite literally have the best time of your life sat in the car with him, laughing and admiring the way his hand holds your thigh. prideful but not egotistical, makes sure your family likes him, definitely has a soft spot for your niece or younger sister. I NEED THJS MAN

[love-on-mars]

Mick Mars Smut Alphabet!

Minors DNI!!!! 18+!!!!

Hi everyone! Sorry I’ve been gone so long. My mental health has really declined these last few months and my anxiety has skyrocketed so I’ve been trying to take time for myself. I promise I’m working on requests, so be on the lookout for them. Thank you all for your patience!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Depends on how much pain he’s in, he always does his best to preform some kind of aftercare. On good days he’ll run a nice bath for the two of you but if he’s wiped out he’ll hold you close to him and whisper sweet nothings.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

With you he loves your thighs and ass. He squeezes, kisses and occasionally smacks them constantly. With him he loves his hands, he knows he can do all sorts of shit with them and loves watching you squirm whenever he touches you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Prefers to cum inside, less messy. But sometimes will cum on your thighs, he just doesn’t like the sticky mess it makes.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Loves to bite and mark, it’s one of the few times he lets any sort of possessiveness show and isn’t afraid to mark you in places people will see.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Prior to being with you he got around pretty often, he’s no sex maniac but he’s been with enough people it’s safe to say he knows what he’s doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Classic missionary and cowgirl are always his first choice, depending on the night. He’s old school.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He tries to be as romantic as possible, but sometimes he gets a bit silly. Mostly if you make a funny sound he laughs and tries to make you do it again.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I don’t think he really has a lot of body hair to begin with, maybe a bit of chest hair and some hair down there. If you prefer it clean shaven he’ll do his best to stay on top of it. Also his hair is red, much to his dismay.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As i said earlier he tries to be as romantic and intimate as possible, making sure you feel comfortable and loved while he goes down on you. He gives lots and lots of kisses throughout your fun.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Only does it on the road if you aren’t with him, and always feels bad afterwards. He tries to resist but can’t help himself some nights, he has a collection of sexy pics of you for him to fuel his fantasies when he’s lonely.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage! Loves tying you up to the bed, leaving you at his mercy. He also gets riled up when called daddy, but would never admit it. He also loves to tease you while you’re tied up and watches you beg for him to take you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom. He is not comfortable doing it anywhere else, especially if the guys catch him. he fucked you backstage a couple of times but that’s it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Loves watching you dance, seeing yours hips sway does things to him. Also lingerie is a good motivator, he loves buying new pairs for you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that would hurt you. No blood, harsh spankings, or anything too forceful. Mick is a firm believer that sex is an act of love, and violence defeats the purpose of it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s 50/50 on it. He is so good at giving, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you. But he also loves receiving, watching you look up at him as you pleasure him makes him feel a certain way. He strokes your hair as you work his length, giving you sweet praise.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Always depends on how he’s feeling, most of the time he’s somewhere in the middle but there are nights where he fucks the living daylights out of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t like them all that much, the only times he’s done them is the occasional backstage fuck but that’s it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Not a risk taker. He’s set in his ways and is very unlikely to change them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

3 rounds max. He usually lasts for 10 minutes each session, more focused on you than him. There are some nights he goes for 5 sessions though, when he’s all pent up and needy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Probably has a couple of vibrators for you and some handcuffs but that’s it. He is extremely skilled with his hands so he can make you come undone all on his own just fine.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loves to see you whimpering and begging for him. Will edge you if you decide to tease him during a show, watching you writhe and shiver with need. Makes him feel like he’s in control, something he doesn’t get often.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not all that vocal, he grunts and gives you some praise but that’s it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Always makes sure you cum first, more focused on your needs rather than his own.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I can see him being around 7 inches, and very thick. I think he’d be circumcised, and as I said earlier not too much hair.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Higher than one would expect. He’s said himself he’s always horny soooo….

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Falls asleep within 15 minutes after sex, he likes he hold you close and whisper sweet nothings as you drift off.

[mariaofdoranelle]

URDAD - part 5

Lonely TCGTATGG would like to pair up with congenial AGCATACC

Warnings: mentions of kinky times? Maybe light nsfw idk

Words: 1,4k

A little recap because it’s been so fucking long: Rowan’s the father of Aelin’s bestie, Imogen. He kept it distant until he found Aelin a job at his hospital. She works with the machinery and he’s allergic to technology so she helps him out a lot. They grew close. Aelin planned to break up with Chaol, the boyfriend she lived with, and then become roomies with Imogen. But then she finds out that Chaol and Imogen have been sleeping together and oh no she’s homeless now! Rowan feels bad and offers her a place to stay out of the pureness of his heart, but she fucks him to get back at her friend. Now they’re fucking like bunnies but no one knows yet.

Also, Anne Jausten is Rowan’s most treasured digital slide scanner.

Now let’s fucking goooooo

When Aelin invited Rowan to visit apartments with her again, she was expecting incisive views from a more experienced person, not incessant bitching that ended up being a pain in her ass.

She stomped down the hallway leading to her “office”—the medical equipment maintenance room—and Rowan followed hot on her heels, refusing to take the hint.

“I’m sorry,” he said for the millionth time. “I didn’t mean to—“

“Swear it.” She turned around and crossed her arms. “Swear on Anne Jausten that you didn’t act like this on purpose.”

He silently stood with a pleading look in his eye. Maybe because of the two nurses eyeing him curiously, or because he didn’t have anything good to say for himself.

What bugged Aelin the most is that she couldn’t understand why he was trying to sabotage her apartment hunting. Why would he bother to visit the places with her just to talk trash about them. Yes, she was well aware that those apartments weren’t near as nice as his fancy two-story home, but they were nice enough, especially when the deadline she was given to leave was so close.

Rowan had previously told her she could stay for ‘one or two weeks’, and in the meanwhile he fucked her numerous times. Aelin’s experience said it was time for her to go. Not that this kind of behavior applies to all men, but it does to most of them—especially the hot and chronically single ones, like Dr. Whitethorn.

Aelin unlocked her office—not quite, but it was a space for herself of sorts. The room was spacious and almost as well-lit as an OR, but it felt cramped from the amount of broken and old machines waiting for her to repair, along with a few lost causes the hospital had yet to discard. Rowan followed her inside, so she leaned against a broken anesthesia machine with crossed arms and said, “I have work to do. Are you explaining what happened or not?”

Rowan wrapped both arms around her waist and gave a string of pecks on her neck.

“Can’t we just forget about it?”

“No!” She immediately unwrapped herself from him. “You’re not touching me until you explain why the fuck you’re acting so weird!”

Rowan immediately took a step back, both hands up in surrender. Good to know. From what she’s heard, not all doctors in this hospital would.

“You’re serious?”

Aelin crossed her arms again and nodded.

A sigh. “I’m not lying to you. I really don’t like the apartments we’ve visited. I care about you and Fleetfoot, going from my place to that would be a huge downgrade.”

Aelin threw her head back and laughed. Loudly. His confused expression made her want to explain things, but the hilariously of this took all the breath from her lungs.

“Rowan, I won’t be able to afford a place like yours at all within the next 10 years.”

“That’s why you should stay with me. At least for now.”

That took the amusement out of her face. Aelin’s thoughts were blank as she examined his apprehensive pine green eyes. There was only one chair because no one ever visited her down there, so she sat while Rowan leaned on a machine near her.

“You’re serious? Like, roommates till a better rent do us part?”

Rowan tilted his head, waiting for her answer—confirmation enough for a quiet guy like him. Still, things weren’t looking good. She probably could afford half the cost of his place, but if she paid for all that, she would barely be able to afford food.

She finally answered, “The only way I can afford my part of the rent is if it’s split based on income.”

Rowan bit his bottom lip in a poor-piss attempt to not laugh, which earned him a slap on the bicep.

“Aelin, I don’t pay rent myself. I won’t ask that of you.”

He was offering her a home for free?

Aelin never doubted she was a good lay, but holy rutting Mala.

But this was too good to be true. “What about house chores?”

“Not your concern. Just look after yourself and Fleetfoot.”

Aelin got up from her chair, rounding Rowan with her eyes narrowed at him. This was too unreal. He had to have an ulterior motive.

“No sexual clauses?”

“Not at my request.” His eyes darkened and he added with a suggestive tone, “But I can be very compliant if you add one.”

A beep interrupted their conversation—she was needed her in the ER.

Knowing what the sound meant, Rowan raised both brows in question. What do you say?

“I still don’t know,” she said while putting her lab coat on.

This feels too good, too easy. Aelin would live as a guest in his house, for free, after hooking up for a week and a half. What it he gets bored of her? What happens to her when he regrets it? What if he changes his mind after his daughter finds out and inevitably throws a tantrum?

As if reading her thoughts, Rowan took a step closer, carefully tucked her hair behind her ear, caressed her jaw with his thumb before he murmured, “I just want to see you safe and taken care of, that’s all.”

Aelin closed her eyes, a little overwhelmed. He might be the most thoughtful situationship she’s ever had. She tucked her head on his chest and chuckled, and he pulled her closer, letting her feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he caressed her hair.

Rowan slipped a strand of Aelin’s hair behind her ear, his carefree expression morphed into something else. “Will you at least think about it?”

Aelin tried to plaster a earnest face, but the corners of her lips kept tugging up. “You won’t make this easy for me, will you?”

His eyes widened. “I’m already making this as easy as I can!”

Another call urging her to go to the ER broke them apart.

Aelin took a step back and squeezed his hand. “See you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner.”

It was hard to stop her mind from racing as she took the elevator to the ER. Rowan’s offer got more tempting each time she thought about it and, to be honest, Aelin didn’t want to stop the late-night sex followed by morning cuddles either, even if she knew this wouldn’t be permanent.

It’d be good. She could save some money for her masters while staying with him. Aelin knew her place, so falling in love with Dr. Whitethorn was nothing more than a fleeting thought in her mental ‘cons’ list about living with him.

˜˜

Aelin expected to give him her final answer over dinner like any other person does, but when he texted her saying he’d be late because he was needed on a late surgery, the idea she had was too good to pass on.

The sound of his car pulling up made her put her phone down and run to the kitchen, wearing nothing but his favorite apron.

Aelin sat on the dinner table between two trays: one with freshly-cut fruit—strawberries, mango, banana, cherries—and another with little bowls of more liquid stuff, such as honey and chocolate sauce.

The thud of the front door being shut. Slow footsteps. Her heartbeat being the loudest of them all.

“Baby…” Rowan carefully stepped into the kitchen, still with his scrubs on, bewildered eyes aflame as he studied her mostly naked body. “What’re you doing?”

“Accepting your offer.” Aelin crossed her legs and tilted her head in a saucy, near predatory manner while still keeping an innocent tone when she explained, “You said you want me to stay. I thought I’d earn my keep.”

“You know you don’t have to—“

Rowan cut himself off when Aelin slid just the top of his apron off her body, exposing her breasts.

He cleared his throat and corrected, “How so?”

Aelin gave him a sly grin, a little brownie point for playing along.

“Dinner.”

She thrust her chest out and suggestively dipped her middle finger in the bowl with the honey, eyes trained on him as she slid it from her upper chest to her shoulder.

And waited until Rowan’s brain restarted so he could lick it off.

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[st4rsnf1cs]

Fox w/ a Baby

Pairing(s): Commander Fox x Fem!Reader

Summary: Commander Fox has a baby, here's a taste of what it's like!

Genre: Mostly fluff, SOME ANGST.

Word Count: 940 (bullet points)

Warnings: Pregnant reader, birth (but no description), kinda secret relationship, kinda distant parent? ITS NOT ON PURPOSE 😭

A/N: Literally love this au it's so cute.

- When Fox found out you were pregnant he had two emotions: “OH MAKER,” and “OH SHIT.”

- He hugged you with so much emotion and passion, yes you guys have always wanted a child but you guys didn't know it was happening now!

- There was only one other person Fox was more loyal to than the GAR, that person being you. Because you were pregnant he was on full protection mode. He was usually more chill, letting you do your own thing but now he was protecting you like you were more important than the emperor.

- Fox was VERY STRICT he’s was a freak and made sure you ate the right food and didn't do anything that was bad for the baby.

- “Fox I’m fine!” You half yelled to him as you continued to lift weights. “No! You know intense exercise is bad for the baby!” You huffed putting the weights down, “maybe *you* should be the one carrying this baby.” You poked him in the chest sarcastically, all you got was a huff and an eye roll from the commander.

- You guys told very few of your pregnancy because Fox worked closely to the Emperor. It got lonely sometimes during your pregnancy because he was constantly working.

- “You're never here Fox!” You gripped your leg firmly, tears welling up and blurring your vision. “Cyare-” You cut Fox off, “no, I done with your excuses, I’m tired, I’m in pain…” You trailed of and you finally looked up. Fox had his head down staring at his feet. His shoulders were tense and he started to huff. You wiped your tears and slowly hoisted yourself up from the chair. As you approached Fox there was a glimmer to his cheek, your eyes softened. “Y/n…I’m doing the best I can, I do want to be there for you and our child but everything is pulling me in different directions,” Fox muttered out. You pressed your hand to his cheek wiping away his tears, you heart broke. You have never seen the man cry so this must be devastating for him. “Oh honey…I’m sorry.” You lifted his face gently, his eyes filled with regret and sadness. “I know you're trying, I just got upset I’m sorry there's a lot happening right now for the both of us,” Fox pressed his face into the crook of your neck and hugged you gently, you reciprocated the embrace. “Only a couple more months and the baby will be born.” He sniffled into you, “I love you Y/n.” Your eyes began to feel warm as tears dared to drop, “I love you too Fox.”

- It was kind of an angsty pregnancy but the two of you were strong. Because being friends with Senator Amidala had it’s perks you gave birth on her home planet of Naboo. Padmé and Fox where there for your birth.

- You and Fox had a beautiful baby boy. Only a few Jedi knew like Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Adi Gallia. They gave you gifts and obviously swore to secrecy.

- If you think Fox was already sleep deprived already? It just got A LOT worse. The two of you barely slept at times where all three of you were together. Fox had bags but goddamn they had grown. He was often the one to put the baby back to sleep because he felt bad he was gone, you gladly accepted it.

- The baby's first word was “mama.” Although Fox was ecstatic, he was kind of sad because it reminded him that he was away a lot. “Honey baby’s tend to grow closer to thier mothers, don't take it personally.”

- That day and from now on Fox made his mission to have the baby say “dada.” He looked like an adorable fool saying it the baby and it made you giggle. “What are you giggling at?” You sealed you lips, “nothing…”

- As the baby grew up more Fox became a control freak. He is definitely the kind of father to be worried all the time. It’s his job to worry, not only because he’s a dad but because he’s a guard.

- You knew that if you wanted too you could leave Fox with the baby and they would both be fine. One time you came home from a well deserved girls night out, and Fox and the baby were fast asleep. The baby drooling on Fox’s chest as Fox sleeps on his back. It was the cutest thing ever.

- Fox also loves explaining complicated topics that the baby wouldn't even understand. For example: Fox is teaching your child how to properly put on trooper armor at the age of 3. Fox being (of course) the lovely model.

- As your son began to grow he started to intensely look like his father. “He looks like me.” You chuckled, “yeah baby's are *supposed* to look like their parents.” However Fox and really any other clone had no idea considering he was grown in a tube.

- Right when your kid hit age 5, Fox began teaching him how to fight. Considering your kid has Fett genes he was thrilled. It was fun bonding time for them.

- If you can't cook that's ok because Fox is probably worse and couldn't cook to save his life. So when you tell him he has to cook dinner because you’ll be gone, he almost blows up the apartment. Sweat dripping down his face, eyebrows furrowed. Apron on a little too tight. Luckily for Fox, your guy’s kid will eat pretty much anything so he wasn't complaining.

[loveofbots]

Sfw and nsfw head cannons for tarn please? Reader or cannon don't really care.

Shoutout @starscreamscorpse for calling beloved Tarn ‘mista taint’

I (lovingly) hate tarn so please take this with a grain of salt

SFW:

- Tarn is a loner in all senses of the word. He doesn’t ask for help, not even Nickel. He trusted people before and that led to his empurata, and then his abandonment from the academy, now he simply directs his team without confiding in anyone except Decepticon high command.

- To tarn, being a Decepticon is a belief. I know we joke about him dick riding megatron (he does) but the Decepticon cause gave him purpose. It gave him someone to believe in, a support system even.

- Advocate for universal healthcare, most likely due to Nickel’s influence.

- Tarn actually likes to sing. Even as Damos! I imagine he sings by himself most days, and actually writes his own music. In his perfect world, maybe he’d be a prodigy and launch Cybertron into an age of art. But of course, his story is one of tragedy.

- Tarn is harsh on the DJD. He may be friendly but he has a short temper, and will easily snap at people he considers his ‘friends.’ He’s also highly critical, as we know he started putting Decepticons on the list for increasingly petty reasons near the end of it.

- He’s probably not as grossed out by us squishies as he tells himself. Although he agrees that transformers are better- he would begrudgingly ‘keep the fleshling alive’ if he was instructed to. Because his singing does not affect humans the same way it affects his own race, he would probably grow very fond of singing to them.

- Tarn’s the type to be creepy at first, but he’s just a lonely, hurt Mech on the inside. He takes advantage of other folks like Pharma to fuel his addiction, a gentle hand would help him by light years. Yet he pushes away (and kills) anyone who tries to help. Citing that they are trying to ‘cleanse him.’ Dumbass.

[NO MINOR ZONE]

- His only lover is his hand. I’m serious he gets NO bitches. Every time someone came on to him he would fumble like a dink. Helix is still trying to give him better pickup lines than ‘I won’t kill you… tonight.’

- For me Tarn is on the ace spectrum. He doesn’t want to participate in interfacing, but he likes to watch. You could probably find him in the corner at some swinger parties.

- Normally he doesn’t have time/is too tired to even try to get off. He runs the DJD he’s a busy Mech. Not to say he doesn’t have his own little fantasies.

- Top all the way. He WILL NOT bottom (unless you ask) Tarn likes to feel in charge, superior, loved. He likes to be serviced and he likes the idea of ‘capturing’ someone and making them obey his every word.

- is actually a super awkward bot. His old self- Damos- comes out when he is flirted with. He’s a bashful Mech that can’t take any praise.

- Likes the idea of his partner getting off to his voice, it makes him feel powerful that his voice alone could make someone so down bad (I am looking at you tarn fans)

- cw: drugs!!! He is the WORST person to give a doobie to, this mf takes one hit if a roach and is coughing all night. On another note, he probably does take medicine to help him sleep thanks to mama nickel.

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: Just before they leave Kansas the group decides to eat and rest before continuing, giving Y/N the time she needs to visit her mother’s gravestone.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, dead parent, visiting a graveyard, lonely, angst with a happy ending (the happy ending almost didn’t happen)

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44

Word Count: 2022

Reunion

(Master list, Previous ch, Next ch)

I sit in the backseat of the Impala, the wind blowing from the open window, messing up my hair and the book I have in my lap. My spell book. I look down at the hard brown book, only minutes ago did I have a small fight with Dean about what to do with it but even now the urge to do something itches at my bones.

With a small huff I open my bag pulling out a pen before flipping open to the page, on the top left corner I write “April 2005–bags did not work on a house haunted with a poltergeist.” The small warning did nothing to ease me but it would have to do for now, because to rip the page would be to destroy a piece of my mother and a piece of myself.

Dean was right, I'm not afraid to admit that, I am afraid to admit, however, that I acted harshly to his remarks. I knew I shouldn’t have reacted like that, I knew it even in the moment but the words left me too quickly for any rationale to hit me. I felt bad, it must have been hard for him to see his mom again and then there I was causing an argument to rub salt in a wound. Most of all I pity myself for getting like that, an awful anger festering in my gut.

"Hey, how 'bout we grab a bite and take a breather?" Dean suddenly speaks, breaking the silence of the car. I look up from my lap, where the book rested, I meet his eyes in the rear view mirror giving a small nod. I was hoping we would stop somewhere for a while so I could sneak away and visit someone. Sam agrees too so we drive on for a while.

I watch the view from my window the whole time, watching the trees and buildings go by when it suddenly becomes very familiar. I don’t know if it was on purpose or not but we pulled right up in front of my favorite diner, I always went there it had become a go-to very quickly. Different memories flash in my mind to the many times I went with my brother, friends, and even Dean. It’s then that I think it must have been on purpose but instead of happiness filling me it’s a sort of dred.

Even so nothing more is said as we exit the car, but just as I close the door behind me I say, “You guys go ahead, I'm not hungry.”

Dean gives me a confused look but it’s Sam that speaks up, “Do you want us to save you something?”

“No no it’s okay, thanks” I shake my head, clutching the strap of my bag to me. “Could you just text me whatever motel we’ll be staying at, in case I come back and you're not here”

“Where ‘you heading off to?” Dean asks, confusion and concern written in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m just gonna walk around” I half lie with a tight lipped smile to finish it off. Still Dean looks at me skeptically, which I suppose is completely fair, but he doesn't say anything about my blatant lie either. With a simple bye I walk away swiftly, feeling the burn of their gaze on me, only slowing down when I'm out of sight.

My feet guide me, the route so familiar I could do it blindfolded. I spent so many years in this town, and yet it all seems so foreign. It was like I was walking back in time directly toward my past, except nothing is exactly as I remembered it to be. I hate to admit it but I never thought I’d be doing this again.

At each crossroad I wait at, my heart feels like it’s being squeezed. A desperate sadness filling my lungs, how was it possible for something to be so familiar yet so foreign? It didn’t make sense. Yes time changes all things, and yet I think I expected it to still be the same like it couldn’t possibly change because this is where I grew up. Maybe it was because I never thought of this place anymore, hadn’t needed too. My past died here and I moved on because it was the only thing left to do. I never came back, never visited, never wondered what my friends who I met here were doing.

It hurt too much to think of Kansas when out of all the wonderful memories only the worst ones stuck out, branding itself to this place I called home.

I slow to a stop in front of a flower shop, the same one I always went to. I enter the small establishment, the bell ringing as I open the door. The strong aroma of all sorts of flowers hitting my nose, I don’t need to look around to know exactly what I want. What I came for.

I walked up to the counter immediately noticing the owner wasn't behind it, I remembered she always was and she even refused to hire any workers because this was her store and she didn’t want any “hooligans” to ruin her work. I have to remind myself that it’s been years, not a week or a month but years since I’ve been here. She probably retired or…no. I won’t let myself think that.

I leave with my bouquet of forget me-nots and white roses, my moms two favorite flowers. I hold the assortment gently as I continue my long walk. My mother loved forget me-nots she would gush over the meaning and the many poems and analogies she had heard, she was a romantic so the meaning was never lost on her. I definitely got that from her.

Eventually I arrive at the cemetery, the large black gate creaking as I push it open. I carry on the path taking a couple twists and turns before arriving at the gravestones. It was unkempt with dead leaves covering it, the sight alone made me want to cry. I wipe away the leaves that lay on top of it, using my shirt to clear the dirt from her name not caring about it getting dirty. I sit criss-cross right in front of her, “Hi mommy” I smile sadly, tears already filling my eyes. “I brought you flowers” I lift them slightly in emphasis.

Feeling it to be too improper to just lie them down, I produce a glass vase filled with water. Carefully I take the plastic wrapping off the bouquet, freeing the flowers from their restraint before placing them in the vase just beside her grave stone.

I let out a heavy sigh, “I missed you…I’m sorry I haven’t visited you since I moved away”

“God.” I sigh, looking up to the blue sky, fluffy clouds scattered over it, trying to prevent the tears from falling.

“You know” I laugh sadly, looking back at her, “This whole time we were here I planned on seeing you and I thought of so many things i’d like to tell you about, but now.…” I breathe out. “I don’t know.”

“There’s hardly a day that goes by in which I don’t miss you, It’s gotten easier since, well, you know.”

“But being here.” My voice trembles, “I feel as if I could lose my mind to the grief, I thought I was past that. Past being so…lost. Alone?”

I laugh, tears falling from my eyes, “I could really use one of your hugs right now”

I wiped my face, my cheeks feeling stiff from the tears, “I met your friend Missouri, she’s great, I'm surprised you or dad never mentioned her before.”

“Um. I’m with the Winchesters right now, helping ‘em out” I tell her, trying to think of the positives right now instead of the squeezing of my heart.

I swallow down a sob, my throat feeling tight with emotion once more, “I know you’d like to hear all the good in my life but being here, I can’t— I just. I miss you”

“I don’t care if that’s redundant when it’s the truth, I just…I’m so lonely” A sob breaks through my lips, and the tears flow down my face rapidly only this time I don’t try and conceal it. “That sounds so horrible to say because I’m with people I love and care so deeply for, yet something feels wrong. Something is missing and I don't feel quite whole.”

More tears fall, my eyes blur with it. Her gravestone and the flowers turn into a gray, green, blue, and white mix. “Have you ever felt that way?” I ask her even though I know I won’t get a response.

I sit there in silence for a few moments not really knowing what to say or what to do. I don’t want to leave just yet because I don’t know when I’ll be back, and to leave would feel like turning my back on her all over again. I scoot the way I sit so that my back is resting on the side of her gravestone with my legs extended in front of me. I lean my head to the side to rest on the frigid stone.

“I figure I’d find you here” A deep familiar voice suddenly says. My eyes shoot up from my fingers, watching Dean's approaching figure, a cup of something in each hand. I swiftly sit up, wiping at my face quickly trying to remove any evidence that I'd been crying, “What are you doing here.”

“Well Sammy bailed on me for some beauty sleep after you left. Noticed you were off, especially when you skipped out on one of your favorite diners.

‘Figured you’d end up here.” He’s closer now only a few paces away, I stand up to meet him. I don’t understand why he came or how he even remembered where her grave would be, “No offense but why’d you come here?”

He shrugs all nonchalantly, “Didn’t want you to be alone.” It was sweet he was here but it almost felt awkward, like this was too private of a moment. “I can leave if you want” He offers, sensing my hesitance.

“No! no it’s okay, thank you for coming, that's really sweet of you.” I spill out quickly, leaving out the part that my mom wouldn’t mind him being here either.

He shrugs again, “You’d do the same for me.”

“Also, I brought you a milkshake for old time sake. Wasn’t sure what flavor you’d go for, but knowing how indecisive you are anyway I got you a vanilla chocolate mix thing.” He extendeds one of the blue paper cups towards me and I knew he got them from the diner.

I take the cup from him, the coolness immediately seeping into my hand, “You know me well” I smile looking down at the milkshake not being able to meet his eyes. Now sweet wasn’t even the right word to describe him, he brought us milkshakes because when we hung out we would almost always go to a diner and get them with fries or a whole meal depending.

“I told you I did” He responds, reminding me again of our previous “fight.”

I look back at my moms grave, the flowers I brought sitting in the vase somehow the scene feeling lighter now. “We can stay, drink these here, if you want.” He offers, again sensing what I’m thinking.

I turn my head back towards him, this time meeting his green eyes, “No it’s okay.” And it was, I knew my mom would want this. She would want me to walk away now when I was happier and with someone I loved—that romantic in her shining through again. He nods and we begin to walk away, I take a sip of the milkshake, “God that’s good” I smile and he laughs.

We walk silently mostly, “Sorry about before, with the spell book. You were right.”

He swings his free arm around my shoulder tugging me closer to his side, “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”

[bisexuallsokka]

Zukka prompt: “stop trying to help me, it’s hurting you.” 😈😈😈

“Zuuuuko!”

Zuko’s hand holding the brush freezes, feeling caught and then immediately feeling bad for that.

Sokka hobbles into the library, the sound of his crutches getting louder until he turns the corner of a bookshelf and flashes Zuko a grin.

“There you are. Suki told me you’d be here somewhere. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were avoiding me,” he says.

It’s a good thing he’s distracted by looking at the items on the shelves, otherwise he might catch the guilty look on Zuko’s face.

“I just needed a change of scenery,” he says, looking back down at the scrolls he’s studying. It’s from a pile of reading material Iroh suggested he get familiar with. Iroh hasn’t left for Ba Sing Se yet, and he hasn’t said when he will, but Zuko already feels the overwhelming weight of his absence and he’s trying to get used to not needing him.

...Instead of spending time with him while he can still ask him questions in person and get his infuriatingly useful advice.

Zuko sighs. It made more sense in his head this morning. He reaches up and takes the crown piece out of his hair, feeling its weight more heavily. He places it on the desk.

“A change of scenery?” Sokka’s eyes light up when Zuko meets them. “Well, how about outside? I found this pond with the cutest turtleducks—“

Zuko hasn’t found it in him to go back there yet. He grimaces and Sokka notices.

“Outside is a no go then. Well, there’s other offices than the Fire Lord’s study, maybe you just need to try something else—“

“Sokka—“

“Or maybe we are still thinking too small. There are so many rooms in this palace, let me help you choose the perfect— shit.”

Zuko jumps to his feet. In his excitement, Sokka had gestured with one of his crutches and lost his balance, stumbling into the bookshelf with Zuko catching him right before he can fall to the floor.

“Sokka.” Zuko grits his teeth, his tone sharper than he intended. “Stop trying to help me. It’s hurting you,” he says quietly. This is far from the first time Sokka has tracked Zuko down or tried to find work to do instead of taking the time to heal. “You need to rest.”

Sokka looks hurt, and Zuko suddenly realizes how close they’re standing. His hands are still on Sokka’s waist to steady him even though he probably doesn’t need the support anymore. He takes a step back, hands falling to his sides.

“Sorry,” Sokka says, voice just as quiet. It feels…intimate, the two of them speaking quietly in the secluded corner of the library. “I just…I feel so useless. After months of constantly having a purpose, of knowing I can always find something to do to help, it feels impossible to just lie in bed all day. And you’re here trying to run a whole nation alone, Zuko.“

“I’m not alone," Zuko says automatically, but it sounds like a lie even to himself.

At the look Sokka gives him, he's not buying it either.

“I mean, it would probably be helpful to have some company,” Zuko admits. It’ll probably take him longer, sure, but maybe it won’t feel so painfully lonely. “Or you could help me interpret some of this handwriting.”

Sokka’s eyes light up. “Now that, I can do. You better get used to reading messy handwriting, though, otherwise we’re going to have a hard time keeping in touch through letters once I go back home,” Sokka tells him.

Zuko blinks in surprise, then smiles. “I can do that. Come on, let’s go do this outside. I’ve been meaning to revisit that pond you mentioned.”

[toytle]

Hi! I love your art style it's like. Breathtaking. And your hcs on barry are some of my favourites of all time?

What do you think of "The Ballad of Barry Allen by Jim's Big Ego as an analysis of Barry's character?

are you asking or are you telling me 🤨 lol THANK YOU i put all my headcanon power into him <3

for the ballad, i love their song stress, and this isn’t bad at all as far as fansongs go. but there’s a reason i don’t include it in my barry playlist, and it’s ultimately bc it doesn’t fit my narrative haha

the song was made in 2003 and i haven’t read many comics before then, so idk how well it aligns w barry’s characterization prior to flashpoint, but i’m basing my playlist off post-flashpoint, so that’s where a lot of the differences will lie

for starters, the song only includes one half of barry’s relationship to his superspeed, and it’s important to me that a barry interpretation includes both sides of that coin. instead, it’s playing on the idea of the dark side of the hero fantasy, an inherently optimistic genre. which, fair, being a superhero sounds like a nightmare, but that angle is less novel to me when that’s the extent of the analysis (and i’m a little over the whole “i hate being a superhero” storyline in general, personally). the song is basically abt how much it would suck to have superspeed bc the world slows to a crawl and you’re left behind bc no one else can keep up w you. and it’s true, that is a very real setback! especially for someone like barry who’s already prone to self-isolation and time management issues! but what does the song actually have to say abt him as a character?

the thing is, barry isn’t a “i wish i wasn’t a hero” kind of guy. he’s a “could i be so strong [to give up the flash]? or do i love the thrill of these powers too much?” kind of guy. he’s a “knowing what i know now… if i could go back in time… maybe i would’ve been somewhere else the day lightning struck my lab and electrified those chemicals, ready and willing to forfeit a life of dodging deathtraps and battling villains… who am i kidding? there’s no going back. no do-overs. like everyone else, superheroes can only follow the path destiny has laid out for them, whatever lies ahead.” kind of guy. yes, barry is caged by his superspeed, but it would be misleading to not present it first and foremost as the very thing that frees him. it’s a double-edged sword that gives him purpose, and that freedom in obligation is what motivates him to keep going. as a wise man once said, “all you can do is go forward.” (“thanks.” “superman is pretty smart isn’t he.” “hm.”)

i think the real kicker for me was this lyric: “i’ve got time to think about the past… how my life was so exciting before i got this way.” my sincerest apologies to mr. allen, but he does not feel complete to me without his mother’s death or his father’s false imprisonment. this backstory contextualizes everything for me. his life was NOT exciting before his superspeed, it was lonely and full of escapism, either in his sci-fi/comics or his dedication to finding justice. i am of the belief that barry didn’t truly start living until he got his superspeed, over 2 decades of waiting around before he rly understood freedom and what it meant to live for himself. i get what they’re trying to do here, but this is what i mean when i say it feels like the song characterizes barry around the concept of his speed rather than how barry’s speed defines him as a person

ik i can’t expect a 4min song to include every aspect of a character’s timeline/development/nuance (esp before some of that even existed lol), but my issue isn’t that it doesn’t cover enough ground—it’s not bad that they had a theme and stuck by it, i actually love the lyrics from a speedster perspective. my issue is that i don’t think this is a good framing for barry’s character as a whole. for all his regrets and suffering, barry is optimistic to the point of denial. choosing this to be The theme to represent barry just. doesn’t feel like barry to me. it’s more like barry is the placeholder subject as an excuse to sing abt superspeed

if this was somehow less overtly a “BARRY ALLEN FANSONG” and maybe more metaphorical or even non-fandom, then it would be a dif situation and i might have dif opinions. at the end of the day, this has more to do w my pickiness than the quality of the song, and the fact that it even exists is so exciting for me as a barry allen enjoyer first, human second. but if you’re going to call smth a character study, i Will be getting my hopes up

[sircarebearalot]

Guys I need help for a fic

If anyone knows:

- for how long did Corrupted!Carmen operate for VILE!

- what specific heists she pulled

- how old she was at the time (and how old Jules was)

In case anyone is curious (or interested in being a beta!!! Dm me!!) I’m writing a fic exploring that Carmen in canon divergent setting where she stalks a blue coat (Julia) to her home and discovers that the woman knows her and is quite clever

Then, over the time leading up to the eye of Vishnu, she steadily becomes more obsessed.

Here are my notes:

Very messy,, sorry 😣

Okay, let me walk you through the ideas/outline!!! (this is kind of for me bc i perform better with a 'audience')

OVERALL: brainwashed carmen falls in love with julia

NOTES ON CORRUPTED!!CARMEN:

Driven by emotion

Quick to react

Everything she feels is distorted to suit power and her warped mind. So what she feels towards Jules before resurfaces harshly but all wrong.

(She's gonna be very yandere!!!)

So our Carmen respected Jules, but now she feels the respect and it's all twisted so she's thinking shit like— she’s my only equal, or at least, she's the only one anyone near my level

And our Carmen admired Jules, a similar tone, but it takes on a more fascinated in a mechanical sense. Like Jules is some kind of unique specimen. Carmen is thinking, She's different from other. She's made for me.

And our Carmen, for the purposes of the fic, was in love with Jules. Or at least, damn near close to it. Maybe she was even just really really fond, to be more canon compliant. So, that affection morphs and is put through the most toxic extreme. Corrupted!!Carmen is so goddamn possesive. Really caveman (she is mine grrr) and 'VERONICA OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE VERONICA OPEN THE DOOR', like, that bad.

And ofc our Carmen was intrigued by Julia. loved her facts and passion and paid her close attention. Corrupted!!Carmen has no chill and she is like, obsessed. Like yandere obsessed. Like, watches her sleep and takes scans of her internal health constantly to make sure she's healthy. It's freaky, i'm trying to emphasize.

And, she's gonna hunt Julia down bc just like her father, the lone wolf, she does as she pleases and she leaves often to be with her booboo. (Unlike, dexter, the faculty are secure in her mind wipe to be concerned)

So... I described her to you!! Now, let me show you some ROUGH snippets I had as concept bits but I might actually include.

If you rather drop it here and hang around for the actual fic, this is our stop!! this is more for a potential beta and well, me :D. but if ur invested pls stick around

This fic will have:

toxic behavior from Carmen obv (she's like mind fucked)

it's not gonna be romantic

NO SEX

pov alterations

(S4E7) Moment of Canon Divergence

Carmen knew she was being followed.

She looks down, from her vantage on the building to see a higher up blue coat turn to her. Then, to Carmen’s astonishment, a soft smile blooms on the woman's face.

Carmen waits for the officer to show interest in attack, and when she doesn’t— she leaves.

As protocol demands.

Snippet #1: (beginning? sort of a little after carmen confronts julia in her home and is now picking her apart for answers)

"Don't act like you haven't been watching me, Jules."

Julia tucks her chin into her scarf, hiding her face... hiding her grimace. When her Carmen had coined that nickname it felt like some of the cavernous distance between them had been bridged. A play at familiarity. Now, the nickname felt a bit cheap. Like this Carmen was looking for leverage, a way to manipulate her for secrets.

Snippet #2: (just to incorporate other characters)

Graham's gaze flickers from Carmen, to Julia, and to Carmen's vice-like grip on her wrist.

He opens his mouth to say something, protest maybe, but Carmen beats him to it. Within seconds she pins Graham to the wall, speaking to him under her breath harshly.

He looks nearly gray when he moves out of her reach and stumbled backwards, away.

Snippet #3:

"Do you get it? VILE cannot know about you. Do you understand me? Forget ACME. Forget VILE. You only need to think of me."

Julia was grateful that Carmen did not look desperate or upset. No, like always Carmen's gaze was steely and unflinching. It helped. On the odd ocassion before, when Julia had let herself think of Carmen in that light, she had always picked her soft and sweet. Julia doesn't think she was wrong to think so. After all, this isn't the Carmen Julia had cared for.

This Carmen was a stranger. A dangerous one.

"I need a job, Carmen."

"You don't. I'll handle it all."

This would make communicating with ACME infinitely harder, with her constantly operating under Carmen's nose. But not impossible, and that was enough for now.

"What about my interests? If I don't do something I'll go mad."

Carmen crosses her arms. "What do you want?"

"My academic career."

"No."

Julia blinks, taken aback.

"Too many people. Too many factors. No way."

Julia fights back the urge to cry, or scream. Instead, she says, "Then my blog. My academic blog.*" She fights back a sob, or a snarl. "Please. I need it."

Looking incredibly agitated, Carmen bites out, "Fine."

"Thank you," Julia whispers, surprised and sickened by how much she means it. "Thank you, Carmen. This means so much to me. It makes me so happy."

Carmen's gaze darkens, eyes going nebulous. Insistently, she says, “I only need you, Jules. You’re the only one that understands me.”

Ironic because Julia had always felt that Carmen was more a mystery than a person. Julia forces a smile on her face as a compromise.

"I wish I understood you better."

Carmen knows the smile is forced. They both know. But the smile was Julia's compliance and that is all Carmen wants now.

"I wish you only needed me. Like I do you."

Julia's smile went somewhat shakier when she says, "I'm sure it's only a manner of time."

The way Julia said it... it nearly sounded like a guarantee.

Carmen forces herself into Julia's arms and tucks her face into the crook of Julia's neck.

Julia suppressed her shudder.

"Let's see how patient I am, hmm?" **

Snippet #4: (dialogue heavy-- needs heavy editing--, near the end... this is part of Julia's plot to manipulate CArmen into ACME to be fixed by the mind machine)

Julia is far too used to Carmen parking herself in the armchair besides Julia's bed to watch her sleep. Carmen's gaze on her is alert and hungry, waiting for any discrepancy.

“Carmen,” Julia murmurs, sitting up slowly. Allowing Carmen to track the movements. Julia takes the glass of water at her bed stand and peers into the clear liquid. After a long moment, she finally asks, “Carmen, would you kill for me?”

“Just say the word.”

The response had not an iota of hesitation. Julia had expected as much. She powers forward, watching Carmen's even breathing.

“Would you die for me?”

“I’d die with you. I’d kill to avenge you. It seems sort of useless to die for you, though. You’d live, yes, but then I wouldn’t be there to appreciate you. Someone else might… " Carmen goes tense, and Julia ducks her head. "Jules.”

Gaze carefully on her glass, Jules says “Yes?”

“Jules, would you let someone else replace me at your side?“

Carmen's voice is sharper and harder than the diamonds she steals so often.

“No," Julia says, well-rehearsed. "Of course not. How could anyone compare to you? No one knows me better than you. No one ever will.”

“Alright,” Carmen says, not believing her but not disbelieving her either. (Because a part of Julia means it. Maybe. In a twisted sort of way. No one will ever pay her such close attention--as unnerving and frightening as it is-- and no one will ever know her as well.) "Good. If someone else had you... I'd have to kill them."

She says it casually, easily, like it's a fact. It is but Julia knows the look in Carmen's eye, the watching look. Like she's waiting for Julia to react negatively. Like she's searching for resistance.

Julia doesn't give a reaction, and instead asks, “What about me then? If I died?”

Another immediate response:

“I'd burn the world down to avenge you. Everything.”

Julia snorts. "Everything but VILE."

Carmen hesitates, then says, almost more to herself, "Even then..."

Julia ignored “But what of natural causes then?“

“I don’t believe in coincidence," Carmen says dismissively, relaxing quickly. She must consider this as pleasurable, as a game of hypotheticals. As if Julia was finally leaning into Carmen's brand of affection. "There’s always someone responsible. An authority to blame.”

“What about cancer then?“ Julia asks cassually.

Carmen chuckles, amused. “You don’t have cancer, Jules. I checked last night. You're such a worrier.”

The fondness was nearly authentic and that... That is far more terrifying than anything else Carmen has ever pulled.

“I’m asking hypothetically.”

“Well, then I’d kill the doctor for failing you.”

“Even if there’s nothing that can be done?”

“Yes.”

She swallows. “What if it’s my own fault then? What if my incompetence brought upon my own death?”

Carmen’s gaze hardened, looking more suspicious. “You mean suicide?"

"No," Julia says quickly, careful not to upset Carmen. "No. Not that. But, say I slipped and fell down the stairs. Something anti-climatic. Something completely my fault."

"If that's all it takes then you are not my equal," Carmen says evenly. "Then you're not the Jules I want.”

Relief sweeps through Julia like a tidal wave. She beams at Carmen.

Carmen's eyebrows shoot up. "Did I answer right?"

"I have one more scenario for you." Julia raises the glass to her mouth and drinks, faking confidence. The cup clatters on the bedside table as she sets it down, betraying her nerves. "After this, I'll be sure of this."

Carmen rolls her shoulders back, like this is all a game. Even her gaze is competitive, a mean gleam shining.

“Carmen.”

“Yes?”

“You’re so patient with me,” Julia exhales.

Carmen softens. “That’s because you are my one and only.”

“Then you must save me, right?”

Julia grins again. This time her teeth are a bit bloodied. Carmen freezes, gaze like darts.

“What do you mean? Are you endangered?”

For the first time, Carmen looks hesitant to touch her.

“Six hours ago," Julia narrarrated. "I swallowed a pill… a very potent poison once activated. I… I just activated it. The antidote can only be found in the ACME headquarters, in their lab." Betrayal flashes in Carmen's eyes and Julia hurries to finish her sentence, before the toxins render her useless. "I have two hours, if I’m lucky, before there is irreversible damage to my vital organs.”

Carmen was apoplectic. "Julia."

“Prove it to me, Carmen. Prove to me that you love me.”

Now Carmen grabs at her, taking the collar of Julia's sleep shirt and shaking her. Now, Julia's body was limp and she flopped in Carmen's grip.

"You doubt me still? You are the cruel one. I'll prove it to you. I'll save you this once, and then, then you will spend a lifetime making it up to me. Understand?"

"G't it."

Notes:

the *, the blog is gonna be how Julia gets in contact with Player and how they devise a plan (he like starts a 'rival' blog that they 'banter' through)

the **, Carmen ends up being endlessly patient. bc her feelings are too obssessove, she doesn't really need Julia to love her back as she just needs Julia around. Also, the don't even kiss or hold hands. Its really just a lot of one-sided hugs, holdings, and face cradlings (except for when julia is trying to manipulate carmen, whcih carmen lets happen bc she liked the touch)

[bonnefeta]

I recently saw a tiktok talking about which of the Fallout protagonists people most prefer, in light of the fact the Fallout show is coming out soon ish.

Perhaps unsurprisingly the most popular answer was the courier, which makes sense because New Vegas is a masterpiece, but also a lot of people talked about liking their backstory being less scripted.

Like compared to the lone wanderer or the sole survivor there isn’t like a cut scened backstory about your family or anything, the courier just pops up with a blank slate you can imagine however you want.

I totally get that, don’t get me wrong I love New Vegas, but having thought about it I do find the journey of the sole survivor and the lone wanderer effected me a lot more.

Especially the lone wanderer who I reckon is probably my favourite.

The characters I remember from New Vegas often have very little to do with my character. Like I remember the NPCs I met but the courier is basically just my eyes and ears, a much more blank slate.

With Fallout 3 I remember feeling gut punched by a lot of those moments, leaving the vault for the first time, finding your father and then loosing him, they really hit emotionally because I’m invested in the story of my player character.

But the main one I want to focus on is one of the moments I’ve found most impactful across all the games I’ve played,

Leaving the vault for the 2nd time.

Now not everyone might have done this quest, I’m pretty sure I missed it on my first playthrough, but if you haven’t ever done it you absolutely need too.

After your father dies if you return to Megaton you can pick up a distress frequency from the Vault where you hear Amata (your old bff and one of my favourite minor characters) asking for your help specifically. Something has gone wrong back home and you need to came back to fix it.

So you toddle off back home, and either help (or hinder) the vault get through a mini civil war. For the purposes of this post we’ll go with help.

So you save the vault, Amata is now in charge and everyone is safe and sound again, thanks to you. You’ve managed to save your home.

But you can’t stay.

Amata breaks the news to you that even after everything you’ve done there’s too much bad blood for you to stay. People blame you for the chaos, the change it’s brought. Amata can lead them into a better future but you can’t be at her side while it happens.

So you leave.

You walk out the vault door again, and as it closes behind you and you head back out into the wasteland you’re alone again.

The first time I played it (and honestly every time since) I was hit with such a strange grief. Like a hollow sad feeling I wasn’t expecting. Loosing your father is sad but this felt more impactful to me for some reason.

Maybe it’s the one-two punch of it, like lose your father and lose your home. But I for me it’s always reminds of the quote “you can never go home again” by Thomas Wolfe.

I don’t know exactly why this concept has always stuck with me, like it’s just stuck in my brain and it never really leaves. Maybe it’s from moving inter-state when I was a kid, and a few times since. But that idea of wishing to go back to a place where things were better, where you were happier, only to go there and realise it’s not how you remembered, and that you don’t belong any more, I guess it hits home.

You’ve been cast out into the wasteland, gone from your relatively comfortable and happy home into a world of violence and chaos and horror, only to lose your father. You fail, your defeated by the enclave, you’re starting again after a devastating setback, and when you’re at your lowest you get just a crumb of hope.

You get to go home, back to that place, but it’s not the same. Even when you ‘fix it’, you end the violence, there’s still no place for you there.

You just don’t fit any more.

And so you leave, you’re alone again. There’s no going back to when things were better, and the road ahead is more than hard, it’s probably impossible and even if you do succeed life will still probably never be easy.

But the vault door is sealed behind you, there’s no where to go but forward.

I know this is reading so deeply into a very minor side quest from a game from 15 years ago, but I honestly think it’s some of Bethesda’s best storytelling and kind of criminally overlooked in all the new Fallout talk.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Hey!

36 for 🧟:

—-

Hen and Bobby exchange a look.

“I have to ask,” Bobby says.

“She hasn’t been bitten. She isn’t infected.” Athena insists. “Not like that.”

“Like what, then?” Hen asks.

Athena’s mouth tightens. “She was scratched, but-”

“Athena,” Hen gasps.

Bobby looks crestfallen.

Buck feels sick to his stomach.

“She’s not infected, Hen!” Athena insists. “It’s been over forty-eight hours. She has different symptoms. She’s not turning to anything! She’s in the car with Harry right now. I wouldn’t leave them together if I thought she would hurt him!”

Hen looks at Denny. “Baby, go back inside with your mom. Stay in there and don’t come back out.”

Denny looks disappointed. “But-”

“Go. Now.”

Denny sighs, but turns and runs back towards the library. Buck is relieved to see him go. He shouldn’t be around this. This might go a bad way.

“Please, take a look at her, Hen. My baby girl. Please try to help her.” Athena begs. “I’ve done everything I know how.”

—-

120 for 🩸:

—-

Christopher pulls away from him.

“Can I see your fangs?” He asks.

“I don’t have fangs,” Eddie protests, slightly affronted.

“Let me see!” Chris complains. “You said anything I needed.”

“And you need to see my teeth?”

“Yes!”

Eddie sighs.

“Alright.”

He opens his mouth wide enough for Christopher’s inspection. The most interesting thing he fears Chris will find is coffee breath.

Chris, determined to find something, pushes up Eddie’s top lip with one finger and inspects his top teeth. His eyes scan the slightly more pronounced canine teeth.

“They’re just kind of big,” Chris decides.

“I’m not Dracula, Chris.”

“Do they get pointier?”

“Only when… Well, when I’m not really in control of myself.”

“Oh,” Chris says.

He lifts a finger to poke at Eddie’s left canine. Eddie flinches away.

“Sorry,” Chris mumbles, blushing. He retracts both hands from Eddie like he’s been bitten.

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie shakes his head. “I just… It scares me.”

“Having your teeth touched?” Chris asks.

“No. The thought of hurting you.”

“Oh.”

Chris pauses for a moment.

“I know you’d never hurt me on purpose, Dad.”

Eddie knows he’s talking about more than just the points of his teeth. He could weep.

He loops an arm around Chris and draws him close again.

“I love you more than anything in the world.” He tells Christopher.

“I love you, too, Dad.”

💧💧💧

When Eddie and Chris emerge from Christopher’s bedroom, things do seem to be lighter between them. Buck feels the palpable relief in the air.

He makes everyone a late lunch/early dinner type meal that they all sit and eat together. Chris batters Eddie with vampire-related nutrition questions. To his credit, Eddie answers them all and doesn’t seem uncomfortable. It seems that he meant what he said to Chris. He is as forthcoming as possible.

“Can we all play a board game?” Chris asks halfway through dinner.

Buck knows Chris has gotten super into board games while he was in Texas. It’s a hobby of Adriana’s, apparently. She’s a bit of a collector. Even before Sophia left, Adriana was buying Chris her favorite games and teaching him. Something to fill the lonely spaces of time Chris was subjected to.

Eddie, who doesn’t have this information, but who knows his little sister, looks almost startled when Chris asks. Buck gets it. Before, he’d have asked for video games. Time and proximity leave their marks. And maybe just being around Sophia has also made him miss Adriana.

“I’m down,” Buck says quickly. “But you’ll have to teach me. I’m better with cards.”

“Me too.” Eddie says. “We still have Boggle, I think? And Monopoly?”

Sophia nods and smiles tightly. “I’d love that Chris.”

Buck can feel the way she misses her sister radiating from her.

“Definitely not Monopoly,” Chris wrinkles his nose. “Tia Adriana got me Ticket to Ride. That’s pretty fun. Can we play that? You build train routes.

Thrilling?

“Absolutely,” Eddie says.

Chris gets up and disappears towards his room to grab the game. Buck clears the table and puts dishes in the sink. They can worry about properly cleaning later. There are more important matters to attend to right now.

“He seems good,” Sophia says, squeezing Eddie’s arm. “Better than I expected, based on when I left.”

Eddie nods. “We’re going to get through it.”

Buck smiles warmly at him.

“You are,” he agrees.

Eddie’s brows furrow. “We are.”

Oh. Oh, good.

“We are,” Buck repeats in affirmation.

“Christ, just marry him already, Eddie.” Sophia rolls her eyes.

Buck goes beet red. “Hey, now. Soph-”

“I think applying for a marriage certificate might complicate things for all of us, legally,” Eddie replies, unphased. “I was told to lie low.”

“Well, quit being disgusting or your child will pick up on it,” Sophia cautions.

Eddie and Buck look at each other, uncertain. How do they explain that to him? Will he be unhappy? After all this time listening to Buck talk about his commitment to finding Eddie, has he suspected how Buck feels about his father?

“Pick up on what?” Chris asks, stepping into the kitchen with the big board game box in his hands.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Buck is frozen.

But Eddie is still as forthcoming as he promised to be.

“Your aunt is making a joke about how all the time apart from each other, uh, made Buck and I finally confront how we actually feel about one another. Does that make sense?”

Chris blinks, processing. “You’re in love with each other?”

Oh boy. They haven’t actually talked about this yet. The answer is fairly obvious but Buck might have preferred to say it without an audience.

Eddie looks at Buck and smiles softly.

“Well, I love Buck,” Eddie says.

Buck watches to see how Christopher takes this, but he doesn’t react. He and Eddie both look expectantly at Buck. Sophia snorts, amused.

[presidentbungus]

Medic doesn’t necessarily recognize the face, but he knows the silhouette—the same one that always tends to show up behind the infernal contraptions that tear his teammates to shreds. He’s stocky, hunched, an odd-looking shotgun with a vertical barrel held carefully pointed away from his chest.

When he sees Medic, he smiles, and even though only a good half of his face is visible for dark tinted goggles and a slightly overlarge bright yellow hard hat, what’s visible betrays a powerful jawline, symmetrical features, disturbingly white teeth.

Medic must be getting lonely—his hormones seem to be operating on overdrive. He has to remind himself there is a shotgun pointed at his chest, and that the shotgun is getting closer every few seconds.

“Howdy, partner,” the other team’s Engineer calls, in a thick, relatively unsurprising accent he’s fairly sure is southern-American. Medic watches him carefully, choosing not to respond, so he follows: “I ain’t lookin’ for trouble or nothing.”

What a fascinating and entirely incomprehensible pattern of speech. Medic continues to push the cart, ignoring him, since he doesn't look like the sort to bury a significant amount of shrapnel in his back for lack of attention—though if he did at this point it would be more of a blessing than anything.

“Where’s the rest of y’all’s team?”

“I don’t know,” he calls back, more bitterly than necessary or intended. “Why would they tell me? I really don’t know.”

“Interesting.” He’s walked up close enough that his voice lowers into something deeper, more comfortable-sounding. “Now, uh, my team’s gone too… which is why I was asking.”

“Maybe they all ran off to let the only two useful members of either team handle everything.”

“Well, uh,” the engineer seems to get the implication because he blushes a little bit, “to be fair if I’m supposed to be handling things I think I’m doin’ a pretty bang-up job.”

Hmm. “Is that supposed to mean ‘bad’?”

“Well, what’s implied by the context clues?”

The engineer keeps leaning against a wall, falling behind, and scrambling ahead to lean against another wall. Medic watches him with barely-concealed amusement.

“That you’re standing by and doing nothing while the enemy team captures.”

“Yeah. That’s the point.”

“If it helps, Engineer, from my perspective you’re doing some fantastic work."

"You know, I'll take it."

————

Engineer smiles, and his eyes crinkle even through the goggles, and he sets an experimental hand on the cart.

It grinds to a halt. Medic almost loses his balance since the thing he was pushing suddenly stops moving, though he wrenches his back and narrowly avoids toppling over the thick soles of his boots (though at the cost of whatever makes an extremely disturbing popping noise in his back).

“It’s like the wheels just lock up,” Engineer says. He has a way of making everything he says sound both endlessly fascinated and completely apathetic, like he already knew what was going on. “Well, what’s the point of that?”

“If you could remove your hand from the cart,” Medic says. “I’m trying not to imply to my team—wherever they are—that something may be amiss at the objective.”

He complies, stepping back, leaning against a wall. Medic thinks the amount of tint on his goggles is on purpose—a less observant person might think he was looking away, though the tilt of his head implies his eyes are still very much watching Medic pant and strain to keep the cart rolling. And well—what does Scout always say?—screw him. Medic’s just not sure why he feels so embarrassed.

“Are you seeing anything of interest, Herr Engineer?”

“Well, if you gotta know… a little.” Medic feels the half-wink all the way from there, and is annoyed at how warm his face feels. “But I’m not sure if it’s reciprocal.”

Interesting. “Potentially.” And to douse that general sentiment: “You seem incredibly irritating.”

“Give it a few days.”