#my last apartment (before this one) I only stayed in a year because the complex was shitty and my car was stolen

[violetclarity]

How do people find hosing that is a good fit for them? How do you make your space feel permanent and safe and long term, even/especially if you're renting?

All of this is said with the caveat that I'm very fortunate to be able to rent an apartment by myself in the city I want to live in, but I feel like I've spent the last 10 years of my life moving - from dorm to dorm in college, and then after college, moving into places only to realize I don't want to stay there long-term, which makes it very hard to feel settled. My current apartment is the best of the places I have recently lived - I like the location, it has a cool vibe and I've put a lot more effort into decorating it and organizing in a way that makes it pleasant and functional - but it still has many small issues and downsides which are really multiplying lately. My dream is to own my own place (for stability/space/ability to change things and DIY reasons), but that's not a realistic goal for the near future, so I'm torn on moving (again) or trying to make this place work for longer??

Basically I can't decide if this is a ME problem or a genuine issue...like, if I found an apartment where the pros outweighed the cons, would I feel good settling in and be able to live there long-term? If I bought a place, would I get fed up with it and want something different in a few years too? I hate moving, and when I moved into this place I really thought I would be here until I made a major change (eg until I bought a house or moved in with a partner) - it seemed like it would be a great fit and I hoped to be here for at least a few years, to be able to make the space mine. Now I'm 1.5 years in and I feel like I'm gonna end up moving again in 2024 because I can't see being here a whole other year, but I also don't want to move again!

Is this a me problem? Or do I just need to feel more stable/settled in my living space than the average person (probable) and I'm reacting to the combined stress of 10+ years of lots of moving and a serious mice infestation??

[physalian]

On Writing Characters with Hyper-Specific Triggers (and a PSA)

*Trigger warning for this whole post

Once upon a time, I had a roommate. Nothing looked wrong from the outside and this narcissist probably thought nothing was wrong on the inside, but there was. I knew moving in with them was a mistake, but financial circumstances demanded I shut up and try to make the most of it. Enter the longest thirteen months of aPTSD-inducing psychological stalemate I hope to never repeat again. Seven of which were on overdrive.

The why doesn’t matter. The how doesn’t matter. What matters is that this roommate was so toxic, there was no point in attempting to talk things out because any little thing could be a land mine for starting an argument and it didn’t matter what casualties got caught in the crossfire, so long as this person “won”. Casualties including our friendship. So if any little thing, anything at all, could be a land mind, what do you do if not try to completely avoid them? For seven months.

This person’s work schedule was incredibly erratic, but they were gone more hours than not, and when they were home, they were usually asleep. In those few overlapping hours where we were both awake, I could not leave my room for fear of said verbal land mines. If I wanted to cook, leave the apartment, get anything from the living room or my desk that I had to abandon, get more water from the fridge, I had to do it before they got home, or after they went to bed, and I could never predict when they’d be home.

Luckily (or unluckily), my room faced the parking lot, and this roommate drove a car that made a very specific sound. From the moment I heard that car from my room, I had about 20 seconds to shut down whatever I was doing in the apartment, retreat to my room, and lock the door. Overreacting? Potentially, I wasn’t in any physical danger, but this was seven months of near complete isolation from any other friends, and the fear of making it worse kept me silent.

So, 20 seconds from the moment I hear the telltale whine of that engine. If I couldn’t hear the car, our front door had a lock that chimes and I had about 7 seconds from the first chime to the door opening to get the fuck out of the way. I lost weight that I couldn’t afford to lose from being unable to cook past a certain time in the evening and staying locked in my room on their days off.

Seven months of only having a door chime and an engine to tell me when it was safe and when I had to run.

—

These chime locks are the new normal and one year removed from that apartment, every time I hear it and I’m already stressed, it’s a trigger.

Every time I’m on the highway and I see a dark grey sedan of that make, that is the most important car on the road until I make sure it’s not their car.

Every time I see a dark grey sedan parked in reverse, as they habitually did, that is the most important car in the parking lot until I make sure it’s not theirs.

Every time I have to drive near a certain location where they work, I am watching for that car.

I could pick it out from 200 others. I know the license plate, I know the license plate frame, I know what sticks to the windshield, I know what hangs from the rearview mirror. I would know that car rusted and crushed in an impound lot.

So. Today I drive home and I pass a rear-parked car one turn before my unit, and I think to myself, “that’s not X’s car, but I noticed it, I’m never not going to notice it.” It wasn’t the same make, model, or color, it was just a sedan with its nose sticking out and that was enough.

Then I turn the corner. And there it is. My ex-roommate’s car.

I shit you not it was like I had a warning from the Universe before it hit.

I don’t need to check the windshield, I know it’s theirs. I’ve seen it in my complex once before. The last time I did, I’d parked my own car and waited, got out, and hid between two others in the dark, waiting for this person to leave.

Today, in broad daylight, that car is empty. They happened to arrive while I was gone for 30 minutes. So I park, and I wait. I watch that car from my side mirror. I scan the sidewalk for them and I don’t see anything. I have frozens that can’t wait.

I’m thinking to myself, of all the parking spots in all the parking lots, of all the apartments in this godforsaken town, you parked right behind my spot.

Nothing happened, and even if we crossed paths, nothing probably would have happened (that’s how they worked, pretending nothing was ever wrong and that I was the crazy one). But I still waited, and when I decided to leave, I moved as fast as possible without drawing attention. One whole year removed from that person.

—

It doesn’t take physical abuse, or yelling and screaming and death threats. It doesn’t need to be a parent or a sibling, a relative, or a romantic partner. This person never touched me, never screamed (though they did yell on occasion), never actually threatened anything. They never called me names, were never direct with any of their insults, were never explicitly petty. I had no proof. Ever.

I just had example after example of every time they cut me down to feel smart, picked on me to feel better about themselves and project their own insecurities and jealousy, or used me as their emotional punching bag because of choices they made.

So a year after completely cutting them out, there’s that fucking car parked outside my apartment.

Media portrays “triggers” usually only in characters who are veterans. Noises that sound like gunshots, or thunder, fireworks, because that’s what we think of when we see PTSD—people who fought in wars.

It’s not like I sit around fixating on that car or that door chime (and actually with exposure to that chime every day with no consequences it’s gotten better), but that’s the point. They come out of nowhere when you least expect it. They don’t prepare you for their arrival, they just happen.

I didn’t have anything close to a panic attack, but nothing in the universe was more important in that moment than making sure I didn’t run into this person, until I calmed down.

Trigger attacks don’t have to be this big flashy thing, born of big flashy movements. It can be something as subdued as going quiet, staring at the thing, and your brain dumping everything else except all the potential outcomes of not escaping this situation immediately. It’s just a car. It’s not like an evil Big Dick truck with smokestacks and truck nuts and a MAGA flag on the back. It’s just a nerdy sedan that could belong to anyone.

—

So. PSA.

What you think might be an overreaction by someone you care about, they probably think is an overreaction, too. Did I want to have fate shit on my day and spend extra minutes under the hot sun when I have chores to do? No. But it happened.

What you think a trigger is supposed to look like or what the symptoms are supposed to be are not just what’s dramatic and flashy for the TV. Here I am writing a whole blog post about it instead of just moving on and I can't go back and check for typos because I don't want to have to reread it.

Do you want to die on a hill of “get over it” when someone you care about would love nothing more? Just. Be there for them.

And to writers, artists, anyone—it doesn’t have to be dramatic to be the most upsetting part of someone’s day. Including such simple things as a door chime, or the sound of an engine, really helps with visibility so people like me don’t think “I’m not allowed to feel this way, I didn’t actually suffer like a shell-shocked veteran”.

Most of us never will. That doesn’t make any of our hardships any less valid. Please be kind.

[heeliopheelia]

"look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't fucking lie to me" (heeseung x reader)

genre: angst word count: 0.7k requested by @flwrshee ♡

warnings: swearing, break up, heartbreak, lying

a/n: fuck i love angst sm LMFAO absolutely looooved writing this one

The silence is starting to feel heavy as you sit in Heeseung's parked car right next to your apartment complex. You're just coming back from a meeting with his friends and throughout the entire ride you haven't uttered a single word to him.

"Baby, talk to me, please," he sighs out after the uncomfortable atmosphere starts nearly itching his skin.

"What do you expect me to tell you? I just found out our entire relationship is basically a fucking joke," you say, face turned towards the window.

You don't even try to maturely approach the subject. Because how else is one supposed to react after realizing that their boyfriend most likely still has feelings for his ex? The sole thought of it makes your skin crawl and Heeseung can clearly see it as he swipes his eyes over your frowned side profile.

He tries again, feeling as if he's losing you already, one by one. "Nothing about us is a joke to me."

You want to get out of the car, you really fucking do, but at the same time you know that it's probably the last time you see him, the last time you're this close to him and the weak part of you that still wants to stay with him doesn't allow you to leave yet.

You feel goosebumps spiking your skin when his fingers hesitantly touch yours, so you quickly jerk your hand away.

"I feel like some fucking rebound, Heeseung."

"YN, baby," he starts quietly, trying to gain your attention. Pressing your lips together, you try your hardest to hold your tears back. "Will you please look at me?"

And you do, turning your head away from the window, hard eyes finding his immediately. For a second you take in the uneasiness painted on his face, his wide open eyes only making you want to cry even more. So you drop your gaze to your knees.

"I hope you had fun at least," you finally say, fiddling with the bracelet he gave you on your birthday three months ago. "Playing with my feelings like that, hope it was worth it."

"Don't say that, love," he pleads, hand itching to reach out to you again. "You can't believe everything people say so easily."

You scoff, looking at him in disbelief. "These people are your best friends. I see no reason as for why wouldn't I listen to them."

Realizing he's a step away from blowing his entire relationship with you, he finally engulfs your slightly trembling hand in his and brings it to his lips to press a kiss on your knuckles. His jacket around your shoulders suddenly feels all too heavy and burdening, a complete opposite of the comfort it used to bring you so many times before. The smell of his cologne is too strong all of sudden, the warmth of it nearly suffocates you.

"You know I lov-"

You interrupt him quickly, the sharpness or your tone startling him slightly. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't fucking lie to me." You swallow the bile in your throat as he sits in stunned silence, eyes gaping at you hopelessly. "I need to hear that she means nothing to you and we'll forget all about it."

"I- I can't," he stutters out, rubbing his face with his hand. "Fuck, I'm sorry. But I'll get over it, I promise. I can't lose you too, YN."

You jerk your hand out of his hold as if it was burning you alive and shake your head with a bitter scoff. "Then what the fuck are you even doing? Leading me on like that, do you realize how much this is hurting me? It's like the entire year we've been together meant absolutely nothing! That's so fucked up, Heeseung!"

"I know, I know!" He groans, pressing his palms to his eyes. "I'm sorry, I just thought that I'd lose these feelings along the way in a relationship with you. I never expected that she'd still have such strong hold on me even a year later."

"Well, since my love is clearly not enough for you, I'm finally gonna stop wasting both of our time," you nearly hiss at him, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and shoving it into his chest. He catches it, eyes as wide as a deer caught in the headlights. "Thanks for the ride, Heeseung."

"Wait, YN!" He calls after you as you walk out of his car. He reaches out to grab you and somehow try to make you stay but his fingers only manage to graze the edge of your top as you turn around to him. "Don't leave."

"Stop being so fucking selfish. Goodbye. Don't call me again," you let his pleadings go past your ears before you shut the door and leave Heeseung in shambles.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @venividibitchin

[marvel-ous-m]

Eddie Munson's Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (1/5)

Part Two

Eddie Munson is many things, but he is not the kind of guy who will kick someone while they’re down.

Call it a hero complex, call it too many hours spent licking his wounds after particularly harsh words from a bully- whatever name you give it, Eddie is vehemently against hurting someone who's clearly already hurting, no matter how much he may hate that individual.

Which is why, in early November of ‘84, Eddie hatches a plan.

It starts in the library, as most of his brilliant ideas do. He’s spending his lunch hour pouring over a borrowed fantasy novel to try and get ideas for NPC’s for his latest campaign with Hellfire, but he gets distracted by a loud thump and a whispered ‘shit’, followed by a sniff. Eddie turns, book still in hand, and proceeds to drop the book onto the carpeted floor of the library in shock.

Because there is Steve Harrington- face beat to hell, hands shakily holding on to a lunch tray, and a salad spewed in all directions at his feet. The librarian- Ms. Boliene (a bitch to everyone other than her outcasts)- began cussing Steve out, demanding he pick up the salad, and Steve got a glossy look in his eye that told Eddie that he was about two seconds from breaking down in tears.

Which- honestly, that was probably the strangest part of this whole ordeal. Steve was King of Hawkins High (and maybe, Eddie theorized, was was the operative word there). Steve had been on a downward slope of popularity since last year when he and Tommy had their falling out. Billy Hargrove (barf) had been getting more and more popular, and, after last weekend, there was a rumor going around that Steve’s girlfriend, Nancy, broke up with him then immediately hooked up with Jonathan Byers.

(Hey, Eddie’s always one to root for the outcasts, he is one, after all- but kinda a dick move, Wheeler. Also, not great of Byers to agree to something like that, especially if he knew about the situation.)

Eddie focused his attention back on the scene in front of him- Steve was now crouching down to pile the wasted salad onto his lunch tray and was blinking rapidly, trying to stave off tears. His head was also doing this thing where it was dipping forward than instantly picking up, like he was trying to even stay awake. Which… huh.

Eddie was sure at this point- this was the lowest he’d ever seen someone get. Even his dad after his mom passed wasn’t like this- at least that bastard could still go out and break shit and get arrested. Steve looked like the only thing he wanted to do at this point was fall apart. Why was he even at school?

Eddie sighed and stood, crossing the room to where Steve was crouching. He gently batted Steve’s hands away and finished cleaning up his lunch, tossing it (and the plastic tray- because fuck this school, honestly) into the large garbage can sitting by the front door of the library. When he turned around Steve was standing, looking a bit shell-shocked. “I… that was my lunch.”

“The floor salad was your lunch? I could believe that before you dropped it, but after? Dude, that’s a low that you cannot reach. I have an extra sandwich in my bag, c’mon.”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s arm, letting go immediately when he felt the whole-body flinch that Harrington gave. Eddie held his hands up, backing up towards the table where he was sitting previously. “I won’t touch you, but you should probably eat, Harrington. I’m extending the metaphorical olive branch in the form of food, I promise that I’m not gonna bite your head off.”

Steve assessed the situation, eyes darting around the library, before he finally nodded and joined Eddie at his table, sitting across from the spot where all of his materials were strewn about. Eddie grabbed his book from the floor and ripped into his backpack, pulling his lunch out and passing it to Steve. (It wasn’t really an extra sandwich, it was his lunch, but it was fine. Jeff always brought snacks to Hellfire and Eddie wasn’t even that hungry today).

Steve stared at the cling-wrapped sandwich in shock, then carefully set to unwrapping it. Eddie noticed a slight tremor in his hands, but decided against commenting on it. “So, uh… what happened?” Fuck, Eddie, abort, abort, that was literally the last goddamn thing you were supposed to ask.

“Um…” Steve finished unwrapping the sandwich, pulling the bread slices apart. “Bologna?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it. I know it probably goes against your rich folk sensibilities, but I promise it’s worth a try.”

“Yeah.” Steve took a bite of the sandwich, then washed it down with the bottle of water Eddie slid his way. “S’not my first time having bologna and it won’t be my last. Not bad, though.” Steve set the sandwich down, licking his lips. “Thank you, by the way. Eddie, right? You played at battle of the bands last year?”

Eddie blinked in surprise. The change in conversation topic made him totally forget his previous question. “Um- yeah, that was me. Me and the boys- Corroded Coffin. Not your thing?”

“No! I liked it, actually. Very ‘stick it to the man’. I can get behind that.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Steve, to which he received a responding chuckle. “My dad- he’s an asshole.” oh shit, did Steve’s dad do this?

Eddie’s expression must have shifted, because Steve immediately started rambling. “Shit- no, fuck, I know what you’re thinking, he didn’t do this, my parents have been out of town for like, three months. This was Billy- but it’s fine, really! Like, I can see, and I’m not super dizzy, I’m just a little lacking in coordination which- yeah, the lunch tray. You know what? I’m gonna shut up now.” Steve took another bite of the sandwich and another swig of water, and Eddie noted that Steve’s knee began to bounce up and down.

Eddie decided to push everything aside and deal with it later. Apparently this wound was still fresh (both emotionally and physically), and while Eddie could get into a number of things that Steve just spewed out (his parents have been gone for three months? Billy did this? Steve is halfway to falling over but he’s still at school?!) Eddie elected to change the subject.

“So, Steve, do you know anything about D&D?” Steve’s eyes lit up and he launched into a rant about a couple of kids that he hung around. Eddie listened with a small smirk on his face, eyebrow raised.

Steve was… different than expected. Kind, a little awkward, anxious. There’s only one reason that a jock like him has lunch in the library, and it’s because he didn’t have anyone left to sit with in the Cafeteria. He reminded Eddie of an abandoned dog… specifically a golden retriever with Steve’s eyes and his floppy hair.

Curse Eddie’s big heart and savior complex, but he knew what he had to do. Steve was about to become the newest member of Eddie’s little herd of lost sheep, whether he liked it or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I haven’t decided if I’m going to write a part 2- let me know if you’d be interested in one! I’m so glad to be back to writing after a very long semester of school. I should be writing a lot this summer, so drop some prompts in my ask if you want to see something specific!

[gnomewithalaptop]

Batfam Time Travel Fic Recs

Because @clarenceislazy requested it on my last fic rec compilation, here's a list of my favorite DCU time travel fics! They're all pretty Batfam-centric, but eh niche is niche what can you do

Damian fics:

A Good Place by LemonadeGarden - Damian gets sent back in time to a Batman who's never had a Robin. Very sweet, very fun.

The Rule Stands by Engineerd - After Dick's death, Damian has to deal with a time-displaced ten-year-old Dick Grayson. Love a good Dick and Damian bonding moment, PLUS this gets a happy ending <3

to stay in one place by Jezebunny - Injustice!Universe Nightwing!Damian time-travels/dimension-jumps to a timeline where Dick Grayson is still alive and his counterpart is still Robin. Ugh this is so angsty -- I have an unreasonable amount of love for Injustice Damian

looking for the shapes in the silence by popsunner - In a world where Dick died on the job, Damian falls through a hole in reality where Dick is still alive and finds that some things don't fit the way they used to. SUCH an amazing representation of complex grief -- literally every time I read it, I cry

Steph fics:

time slip by almondrose - A mistake in time leads to six Robins meeting. Honestly, this one is kinda cracky, and only barely qualifies as Steph-centric, but I still like it a lot

and we'll never be the same by almondrose - Steph and Tim go on a road trip to figure out the post-universal-reboot anomalies. This is more of a post timey-wimey-bullshit fic than a real time travel fic, BUT I think it's real cute regardless

Tim fics:

Tractors by lieu42 - Ooh this one is honestly so so fun! In a reimagined universe where DC's heroes operate out of the UK, Red Robin Tim finds himself right back in the year before everything went to hell. He has a duty to get back to his correct timeline so he can find Bruce, but with Bart and Kon still alive, there's a part of him that doesn't want to leave. Literally SO well written and trippy as hell -- this fic deals a lot with addiction, drug use, and grief, so definitely go into it forewarned. TimKon

not for very much longer by CreamOfTomatoSoup - ugh what CAN'T I say about this fic, apart from the fact that it's one of my favorite time loop fics of all time. Post Cult of Dionysus Bernard Dowd finds himself reliving the worst day of his life -- the day Darla got shot. Featuring identity porn, Steph as Robin, Original-Personality!Bernard, the grief of a childhood you can never return to, and the weirdness of having to interact with your significant other when he's currently a sixteen year old who doesn't know he likes dudes. Don't look at the incomplete warning -- it's not abandoned, just a wip, and I legitimately cannot recommend this fic enough. This fic made me read War Games. This fic made me a Darla Aquista stan. This fic made me ship timbern. Please read this fic.

Jason fics:

The View From Jade by lowflyingfruit - Jason Todd accidentally travels back to before Bruce took Dick in. I feel like this is on every time travel rec list, but what can I say: I'm a basic bitch

Two Dead Birds by InsaneTrollLogic - Jason Todd wakes up in the middle of his Mob Boss Era and immediately decides to rewrite his own history. This is very funky fresh of him, just in my personal opinion.

Dick fics:

So It Goes by 60sec400 - Bruce from Dick's Robin era receives a troubling call from Nightwing. Be warned -- this fic is angsty as hell. Implied major character death. Don't look at the incomplete warning -- it's a lie (the author has specified they intended it to work as a oneshot)

In This Or Any Other Universe by wildsofmarch - Dick-as-Batman ends up in Battinson-era Gotham. Again, I think this counts more towards the Dimension Travel pile than the strict Time Travel variety, but I'm still putting it here because I enjoy the hell out of it

a million dreams by CaptainOzone - In the seconds between the trapeze line snapping and their bodies hitting the ground, John and Mary Grayson find themselves transported twenty years into the future. SO GOOD I honestly can't stand it.

If you think I missed a fic you love (or if you've written any yourself and want to self-plug), feel free to drop a link in the reblogs! Especially if you know of any that center around Steph, Cass, or Duke -- istg I've scrolled through fifteen pages of the AO3 Time Travel tag, and I've found like maybe two fics that center around any of them. It's honestly a little ridiculous

[iiconicxpersona]

Don’t Leave Me

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: After an extremely traumatic experience during the Escobar case, reader debates between staying in Colombia with Javier or leaving him for good.

Warnings: smut (18+) mvrd3r, depression, angst, read at your own risk, minors DNI

A/N: Had to repost because original only posted half 😫 to be fair I was at target lmao

Life as the significant other of a DEA agent was no joke, especially for Javier Peña. You had heard the horror stories on the news, and you knew there was much more gruesome details Javier wasn’t telling you about. He sheltered you to the best of his abilities for your sake and for the sake of his own sanity. He liked coming home to some sort of normalcy, but he loved how even after the most life threatening days all it took was holding you in his arms and kissing your lips to make everything all right again. You were his sanctuary, his home.

However, after a year into your relationship with Javi, you finally got a small taste of what Pablo Escobar and the Colombian cartels were capable of.

Javier didn’t give you too many details, but he warned you that it might be safer for you to go back to America and stay with your family until the heat cooled down. Pablo had figured out Javier and Steve Murphy were hot on his tracks and the last thing Javi wanted was for you to get hurt. Nevertheless, you fought against the idea of leaving him—even if it was just temporary—until Javi finally gave in. “You got yourself a fighter, Javs.” Murphy would tell him.

“She doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.” Javier would respond.

He was right. You had absolutely no fucking idea of what you were getting yourself into, until one morning you woke up to the nonstop ringing of the doorbell to your and Javi’s shared apartment. You should’ve known something was up when you looked through the peephole and saw that nobody was there, but curiosity got the best of you.

When you opened the door, there was a package on the floor with no labels on it. You wanted to ignore it, and if Javier didn’t have to leave early for work that morning he would’ve gotten rid of it himself. You had a gut feeling not to open it, but your body reacted faster than your brain and before you knew it the package was sitting on the coffee table in front of you. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Quiet enough that if the package was a bomb, you would hear it. No such sound was made. The Devil and Angel on your shoulders raged against each other on the idea of opening it until you finally started cutting the tape off.

The scream that left your lungs at the sight haunted the entire apartment complex for months. Inside the box were the lifeless head and hands of a woman with features similar to yours. The hands cradled each side of the head while wrapped securely in saran wrap to prevent the blood from dripping. It was pretty clear that this was a message for Javi and for you. They know who you are. They’re watching you.

Javier knew right then and there that you were no longer safe from the reality of this cruel world. His home had been tainted. His sanctuary had burned to the ground. This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have asked you out the night Steve’s wife Connie introduced you. He shouldn’t have called you back for a second and third date. He shouldn’t have made love to you. He shouldn’t have fallen in love with you, but he did.

He fell hard for you, and the worst part is you fell just as hard for him too, even when there were so many signs from his job alone telling you to leave him. This package was the biggest sign of them all.

As much as he loved you, Javier wouldn’t have blamed you one bit if you decided to break up with him. He expected it to happen sooner or later, but despite everything you still chose to stay. “Javier, I love you. We’re in this together no matter what.”

“I promise, cariño, I’m done when this is over. I love you. I want you to marry me. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want to start a new life with you.”

“I want that too, Javi, so much.”

—

Life only seemed to get harder ever since the package delivery scene. As if it wasn’t enough to try and protect himself and Steve on a daily basis, now you were added to the mix. Even though he knew during the day you were safe with Connie at work, on the inside he still worried himself to death over you. He needed to know where you were at every hour of the day and to know you were safe. Steve tried to convince Javi to think of you as one of the former informants he used to sleep with and toss to the back burner while on the job, but Javi couldn’t if he tried. He didn’t love them. He loves you.

That’s the problem; you love Javier. You don’t want to be without him. You and Javier belong together. So why are you still fighting the thought of leaving him? Why are you still looking for any excuse to pack your things and walk away from Colombia and from Javi forever? Why can’t you do it when he flat out tells you “if you want to leave then leave”?

Ever since the delivery, you felt your love for Javier and your sanity struggling to balance on a sewing thread. You couldn’t get the image of the lifeless body parts out of your head. The face of the poor woman haunted you in your sleep. It was as if you were watching like a fly on the wall as her life was being taken away just for a few of her remains to be on your doorstep. And for what? Why did it have to take harming an innocent woman to scare you?

Javier could feel you slipping away from him. Every time he tried to pull you back down to earth, it only ended in an argument. He didn’t like going to bed with your back facing him. He didn’t like ending every fight with giving you the opportunity to leave him for good. He didn’t like going to bed angry and waking up to you not talking to him. He didn’t like hearing you silently sob yourself back to sleep after your reoccurring nightmares, but he had no choice. You weren’t the same anymore. He hated his job for fucking up his own sanity, but he hated it even more for destroying the one good thing he was given in his life; you.

—

After a month of trying to overcome everything by yourself, you finally decided to seek professional help from one of the therapists the DEA provided. Connie recommended for you to see her therapist, Trinidad, after Javier came to Connie desperate for some advice.

Trinidad understood the confidentiality of the ongoing investigation, so she didn’t press you for details. You explained to her about your nightmares and your relationship with Javi. In the end she was only there to let you talk her ear off and prescribe you with anxiety and anti-depressant medication. If it wasn’t for the obvious reasons, you could’ve just called your mom or best friend and did all this from home for free.

By the time Javi came home from work that night, you were already in bed with your back facing his side. You weren’t asleep—God knows you haven’t had a decent sleep in a month—instead you just stared blankly at the wall in front of you. Feeling Javi’s body weight taking his place on his side of the bed, you waited anxiously for the sound of his faint snore to signal it was time for you to yet again sob yourself to sleep.

However, you felt the weight change and suddenly his body was pressed against your back. One of his hands caressed your hip as he began trailing gentle kisses from your shoulder, to your neck, all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Cariño, come back to me, por favor.” He whispered.

Oh how your body ached for his touch. It feels like forever since he last called you ‘cariño’. You didn’t realize how much you missed him. Even though your body was telling him different, your words were trying to push him away.

“Javi, please, don’t.” You groaned as your head fell backwards and your fingers entangled in his hair.

“Please mi vida. We haven’t made love in so long. I miss you.” His hand ran slowly under your sleepwear, at the same time pushing you gently backwards until your body was fully pressed against him.

You gasped at the feel of his bare body spooning you. The arm that was holding him up snaked under your neck and secured your upper body in place as his other hand slowly massaged your soaking wet clit. A desperate moan escaped your lips and you began grinding yourself on his hand.

“Fuck. I missed you so much, baby.” He groaned against your ear.

“I missed you too, Javi. So. Much.” Your legs began spreading wider until your top leg overlapped his own.

His hand fully engulfed your pussy and his fingers slowly worked their way inside you, massaging your walls as you tightened around him. The sound of your moans making him harder than a rock and you could feel how desperate he was to be inside you by how hard he was dry humping you from the back.

You turned your head to face him with your hand still gripping his hair and your hips grinding harder into his hand. “Kiss me.” You moaned.

He didn’t hold back. Javier kissed you so deeply that it took your breath away. Almost as if you were experiencing it for the first time. In fact, this felt almost similar to when he did make love to you for the first time. He made you feel safe. He made you feel beautiful. He worshipped your body like an absolute goddess, kissing every scar and every beauty mark he could find and devouring you like you were his only meal.

The only restraint you had on him were the clothes you had on and you knew he was getting desperate to tear them off, but he also wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to make you feel good. To release the fear and tension that held you captive from him for the past month. He was desperate just to have you back.

His hand gradually picked up the pace and you whined in pure bliss in his mouth. “Javi… baby… I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.” Javier whispers in between kisses.

Your lips connected once more in a deep breathtaking kiss as you came hard on his hand. Beads of sweat now starting to form on your bodies.

You rode out your high on his hand and continued to kiss him at the same time, cherishing every moment. “I love you.” You moaned in between kisses.

“I love you too. More than anything.” His hand slipped out of your pants and you both adjusted yourselves to where he was now on top of you in a missionary position. “Querida, I don’t want to be without you, but I don’t want you to live in fear with me either. You’re so pure to me, so fragile. I’ll protect you no matter what. Just please, please don’t leave me like that again.”

Tears fell down your face as you stared up at him. Your heart swelled and broke in your chest at the same time. You didn’t realize it until now, but you scared him. The entire month you shut yourself away from him scared him more than any dangerous curveball his job threw at him. He could be sitting face to face with Escobar himself and that didn’t scare him as much as the thought of knowing his last memory of you would be you scared, tired, sad and angry with him. No last kiss, no last ‘see you later my love’, no last lunch time call, no nothing. And at that moment, you hated yourself for being so selfish the past month. “I’m so sorry, Javi. I didn’t realize—“

He shushed you and gently wiped away your tears. “No llores, mi vida. You have nothing to be sorry about. Just promise me you’ll try to talk to me next time. That’s all I ask.”

You immediately nodded and peppered his lips with kisses. “I will. I’m so sorry baby. I love you so much.” You said in between.

“I love you too.” He returned each kiss and embraced your body closer to him.

Your hands gripped at his bare back as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Make love to me, Javi.” You whispered.

Without hesitation he pulled you up high enough to remove your top, exposing your breasts and you helped him remove your shorts and panties until you were just as bare as he was.

Still sitting upright on his knees, he hugged you body close to him as you adjusted yourself on his lap until his tip was pushing inside you. For a brief moment, you and Javi stared lovingly into each others eyes, saying everything you couldn’t spit out into words right now and kissed each other passionately.

Gasping as you sunk down on him, you had to take a moment to adjust to his size. A month felt like an eternity without him inside you. He groaned as your walls clenched around him and he gently pushed himself further inside you, guiding your hips with his hands as he felt you slowly grind down on him and your body relaxing.

“There you go, baby. Relax for me.” He smiled in the kiss.

You broke the kiss to throw your head back from the pleasure, but one of his hands caught the back of your head and guided you back down to him. “No baby, keep your eyes on me.” He begged and you nodded.

Javi wanted to cherish every moment when he would make love to you. He loved the way your body moved perfectly with his, how the sweat covered you from head to toe, the way your eyes desperately tried to stay open to look at him even when he was balls deep inside you. But what he loved most of all was the sounds you made. The praises that spilled from your beautiful lips, letting him know exactly how good he was making you feel. He loved hearing you moan, especially his name. He didn’t care if anyone else in the complex heard them or not, but if they did then he wanted them to know it was him and only him that could make you feel this good. Just as you wanted everyone to know you belong to Javier Peña and Javier Peña belongs to you.

He pushed you backwards until you were back in the missionary position and kissed you once more. His arms hooked your legs over them and he spread you open wider. Biting at your jawline and chin. His thrusts slammed into you harder and deeper, making you and him moan each other’s names louder. Your nails clawed at his back and he hissed.

It must have occurred to both of you subconsciously that he wasn’t wearing protection and you haven’t taken your birth control pills in the past week, but that didn’t slow either of you down.

“I want you to have my babies.” He groaned against your lips and continued thrusting deep into you.

“Then give them to me, Javi.” You moaned.

Javier lost all self restraint at that moment. He gripped tighter at your legs as his thrusts became faster and deeper, making you cry out for him even louder.

“Ahh, Javi… oh god! So! Fucking! Good!”

“You’re so fucking perfect cariño. All mine.”

You could feel that both of you are so close. His thrusts became sloppy and desperate as you fell apart underneath him.

“Are you ready, my love?” He kissed you once more and tried to keep eye contact with you.

“Give me your babies, Javi.”

And just like that, you both came undone hard at the same time and quivered in each others embrace.

Javi stayed on top of you and kept himself buried deep inside you as if he was afraid of spilling out. You smiled up at him and kissed him passionately once more.

“There’s that beautiful smile I missed so much.”

You giggled. “I’m never leaving you again.”

[sorchathered]

Sweet Home Texas pt. 2

A/N- hey yall just a little something I wrote while I was traveling today, I don’t know how often I’ll get to update after this with the move rapidly approaching but I had some free time. :)

Pairing- Jake “hangman” Seresin x Oc Ella Mcree

Warnings- angst, language

“I can’t do it anymore.” She said with a heaving sob as she crumbled in on herself, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as if she were holding herself together.

“I’ve been with him for almost 20 years, I don’t know any other way of life but this is…this isn’t a life anymore! Happy moments are almost non-existent, I can’t even remember the last time he prioritized me before his job or his friends, hell I don’t think we’ve even been on a date in at least a year. We are constantly biting each other’s heads off, everything I do seems to be wrong or met with a condescending look. I’m not a child! I’m a 35 year old woman with a thriving career! Just because he has some kind of god complex as a pilot doesn’t give him the right to treat me like I’m stupid. I don’t want to be mean, and I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t think I can be married to him anymore. Love shouldn’t feel like this, love shouldn’t hurt like this. If the end goal is to be together for 50 + years and hate every minute of it then I don’t want it. I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Jake but I won’t do this anymore.”

Jane Wyatt had been seeing Ella and Jake Seresin for couples therapy for nearly 6 months now, and in that time their relationship had shown no growth. Jake dug his heels in and fought Ella at every corner, he knew he worked too much and probably could have put more time into them but he maintained that she knew this was his dream and he was trying to make it to the top. One day things would be easier, she just had to wait it out.

Ella felt like she was dying on the vine, she had put her life on hold for Jake for so long and now that she was thriving in her career and fast tracking it to become the cfo of a major company in San Diego suddenly Jake couldn’t handle it. Having her at home barefoot and pregnant had never been a part of their plan, they both knew it but he felt like he was losing control and took it out on her. Accusations of cheating when she worked late hours, nitpicking everything she did, he didn’t mean to make her feel small but something in his subconscious just wouldn’t let it go. The house was burning from the inside out and he was refusing to throw water on the fire, they’d burn down together and stay married and maybe one day they’d crawl their way out of it.

Jane watched the scene unfolding in front of her, Ella falling apart and Jake white knuckling the chair across from her, jaw clenched so tightly it felt like his teeth might crack. She knew what the diagnosis was and it was one of the worst parts of her job.

Being a couples counselor was not for the weak, and she knew that at one point the two people in front of her had been head over heels in love. But this wasn’t the same couple from twenty years ago, and it wasn’t helping either of them to stay on a sinking ship.

“I’m sorry to you both, you’ve spent over half your lives together and I know this is not how either of you saw it going. My professional opinion? It’s time to take a step away from each other, whether that be for a few months or in dissolving your marriage can’t be determined yet, only time can answer that. But neither of you are good for each other right now, and my opinion is unchanged. You need to let each other go and find out who you are without each other. It’s the only way to move forward.”

Jake was out of his seat and out the door before she even finished, Ella crying out for him as he made his way to the elevators and out to his truck. He finally let himself break when he was alone, he knew it took two people to build a life but he had pushed her to this point. He knew she’d been unhappy and he had done nothing to stop it, nothing to change it, just expected her to push through like they always had. He didn’t know who he was without her, he’d never even kissed another woman before her; how was he supposed to just move on? The thought made him feel physically sick. He couldn’t go home, so he called his wingman, Javy Machado to admit defeat and ask for a place to stay.

That was nearly four years ago, Jake replayed that awful afternoon over in his mind in bed after he’d seen you at the bar tonight, you’d looked damn good. Still all fire and sharp wit, and it reminded him just how far apart you’d grown in the time since then. He had hoped if he gave you space to grow and learned the tools he needed to work on himself that the universe would bring you back together, but it hadn’t. That is until you walked in tonight. Circumstances be damned, he wasn’t signing those damn papers. He’d let this go on too long, he was going to romance you and show you just how good things could be, if you’d found someone else well that poor sap would have to go because the two of you were endgame and he knew it. Now he just had to convince you. Easier said than done.

🏷️ Tagging- @attapullman @bobgasm @roosterforme @mynameismckenziemae @seitmai @jessicab1991 @djs8891 @buckysteveloki-me @dontletthemtakeyoualive @crazy-ravioli @dizzybee03 @sarahsmi13s @sunsetsimpsblog @auroralightsthesky @bradshawssugarbaby

[lil13]

pov: You and Luke have been friends for years. Somewhere along the line, you developed feelings and always thought they were unrequited.

•

You didn’t know when your heart started pounding every time Luke was near, but it did and you’re not sure how you feel about it.

Luke has been your best friend for more than a decade now. You became friends during his last year of school before he left to make it big. Both of you were in your awkward stages and it was like pulling teeth to get you both to admit that you wanted to stay in touch while he was gone.

But here you are, now both in your mid-twenties and living in LA. He’d obviously moved here because of the band, but you chose to go to Uni here in LA and never left. Eventually, the city of Angels became your 2nd home and you fell in love with it. And it was helpful that you had a piece of home here with you.

Today’s Saturday and you were looking forward to the lazy day you were about to have. You work all week as a school teacher, so the weekends are the only times when you can truly rest.

A typical lazy Saturday for you looked like cooking yourself breakfast and spending the majority of the day on the couch watching tv while never changing from your pajamas. Eventually, you’d get antsy and take a quick shower before going out and running an errand or two. You’d then return home, cook yourself dinner, put your pajamas back on, and go back to watching tv. It was your favorite schedule.

Today you decided on blueberry muffins. You’d bought some blueberries from a market you saw on the side of the road and needed to use them before they went bad.

Once you put the tray in the oven, someone knocked on your door. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion since you weren’t expecting anyone, but still went to check the door anyway.

You cautiously opened the door and let out a sigh of relief when you saw it wasn’t a stranger but your tall, curly headed best friend standing there with his chunky dog Petunia by his side and a large duffle hung on one of his broad shoulders. But you were also confused.

“Uh, a pipe burst at my house. Mind if I crash for a few days?” There your heart goes again.

You nodded, pulling him inside. Luke owned a house not far from where you lived. You always told him that you thought his house was ridiculously big for just him and Petunia, but he always told you he bought it with his future family in mind. That reminder almost always made your cheeks heat up.

“Damn, Luke, yeah of course.”

He mumbled his thanks and sat his bag on the ground, simultaneously unclipping Petunia’s leash. “You’re amazing, Y/N. Mind watching her? I’ve got her stuff and another bag or two in the car. They said they didn’t know how long it was going to take to fix.”

Knowing how long it usually took them to fix burst pipes in an apartment complex, you firmly believed you were going to have a roommate for a while.

“You sure you don’t need help? Petunia’s been here before so she’s fine, I don’t mind helping carry stuff.” You offered.

He shook his head, “‘M fine, promise.”

Luke rushed out before you could say another word. So, you ventured to the kitchen to clean up your mess and continue to wait for the muffins to finish baking. Your stomach growled louder by the minute.

Eventually, Luke joined you in the kitchen with Petunia at his feet. “Baking?” He leaned up against a counter.

You nodded, “Blueberry muffins.” The timer dinged at that moment, signaling them being done. You excitedly clapped before grabbing oven mits to handle the hot pan.

Luke tried to take one immediately, but you slapped his hands away, telling him to go sit on the couch and you’d bring him one. He did as told and you followed through, joining him on the couch and handing him a freshly baked muffin. He thanked you for the second time today, his arm resting on your folded legs that were tucked in next to him.

The two of you always sat close, touching in some way. But that was typical, so no one ever thought anything different about it.

“You sure you don’t mind that I crash here?” Luke asked after a few minutes.

You turned your head to face him, the man already looking at you. “Luke, i’d be a terrible person if I didn’t let you. You’re always welcome here, you know that.” You playfully poked his cheek before taking another bite of your muffin.

He nodded, almost as if he were still processing what you had told him. Once you both finished your muffins, Luke slouched down on the couch, making your legs fall on him this time. Neither of you minded, so you too readjusted, this time letting your legs stretch out over his instead of staying tucked.

Luke’s hands rested on your legs, occasionally his fingers would rub your bare skin. For some reason, it was then you noticed that Luke was also in his pajamas. He wore sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt while you were pajama shorts and a tshirt that once belonged to him. You couldn’t remember if he had left it at your house, given it to you, or if you’d stolen it.

“HGTV all day?” he questioned, his head laying on the back of the couch as he looked at you.

You swallowed harshly, not liking the thoughts that were filling your brain about your best friend. “Mhmm, it’s my Saturday pre-errands show.”

“Do I get to join you on the errands since we're roomies now?” You knew why he was asking. Oftentimes you’d told him your Saturday errands were an activity for only you.

You patted his cheek, instantly regretting it seeing as your thoughts of him only got worse. “Sure, Lu.”

Luke leaned into your hand and that’s when you realized you’d kept it there after patting it. His blue eyes stayed locked on yours and you swore your heart was going to explode.

Everything in you wanted to deny the feelings you felt for your best friend, but that didn’t seem likely anymore. You were down bad.

You absentmindedly ran the pad of your thumb against his cheek, your own head laying on the back of the couch as you kept eye contact. You could stare into his eyes forever and never want to look away.

Something changed in his eyes and you were unsure as to what.

Your thumb continued to create patterns on his cheek, the two of you completely ignoring the home renovation show playing on the tv and completely taken by each other. You didn’t know how or why this was happening, but you weren’t complaining.

Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you’d actually been in love with your best friend for years. You were just able to ignore it better before now. Now it was like every defense against your feelings you’d built up were slowly crumbling.

“I have another question,” Luke whispered.

You chuckled, he’s been full of questions today. “Yeah?” You gave him the go-ahead.

“Can I… kiss you?”

Your thumb stilled and your breath caught in your throat. Was he feeling the same things you were?

You saw a brief panic begin to set in in Luke’s eyes, the boy about to sit up and possibly flee. But you came to your senses, running your thumb over his cheek again, and breaking out in the cheesiest smile.

“Yeah, you can.” You couldn’t believe he asked.

It sounded like Luke took a deep breath before he leaned in, but none of that mattered when his lips met yours. You were done for.

All of your hopes and dreams fulfilled. Luke Hemmings was kissing you.

One of his hands reached up to cup your face, mimicking your hand on his. You wanted to melt when he, too, rubbed his thumb across your cheek. It was the sweetest gesture ever.

“C’mere.” He mumbled in between kisses.

You understood what he meant when his hands fell to your hips. He wanted you to sit on him. You swallowed harshly.

Luke must’ve noticed a shift in you because he stopped kissing you, sitting up to look at you. His gaze was full of concern. “We can stop… if you want. I know this was a lot.”

You were quiet for another second, trying to collect your thoughts.

But Luke panicked. He scrambled off of the couch, raking his fingers through his curls. “Fuck, I ruined everything.” His voice was a whisper, but you definitely heard him.

Your heart shattered at the pain in his voice.

But he hadn’t ruined anything, you’d just panicked. You hadn’t been prepared for the fact that your feelings were reciprocated. To you, crossing the friendship boundary with Luke just always seemed so unattainable. So, him kissing you tonight and wanting to take things further, meaning that he quite possibly felt the same, scared the shit out of you.

“Luke.” You begged him to stop pacing, but he wouldn’t. So, you stood up, walking yourself over to him and standing in his path. “Listen to me, please.”

When he stopped, his eyes finding yours once more, you realized they were glossy. He’d started to cry. “Fuck.” You mumbled to yourself.

“I-I’ll just go crash at Cal’s, it's fine, Y/N.” You knew it wasn’t fine, that was just Luke lying to himself. It was now blatantly obvious that Luke believed that he ruined your friendship by kissing you.

You took a deep breath, “You’re staying here-”

“No, no, I’ll go. It’s fine.” He shook his head, going over to his bag to pick it up.

“Luke.” You spoke, this time with a more serious tone.

He stopped, turning to face you. The curls he’d been tugging out now strewn everywhere.

You crossed the small space between the two of you. You’d been harboring feelings for him for years now and you weren’t about to let him just slip through your fingers. Luke Hemmings was 1 in a million and he’d chosen you as his best friend all of those years ago, you two were stuck together for life. But maybe now it would be as more than friends.

“Luke,” With your voice now softer, you reached up to hold his face in your hands. “You didn’t ruin anything. I just wasn’t expecting you to feel the same way… I’d somehow convinced myself along the way that my feelings were only ever going to be one-sided. At first, your kiss felt like a dream, but when you tried to get me to move it all clicked and I panicked.”

He visibly relaxed. He believed you, thankfully.

“And you overthought it and panicked before my brain could process what was happening.” You let out a breathy laugh.

Luke shook his head, his laughter mimicking yours, “You’ve liked me for years, huh?”

“Don’t get too cocky, Mister.” You dropped your hands from his face, poking his chest.

“Not cocky, just thinking about the fact that we’ve both had feelings for each other for years and it took us til now to figure it out.”

My jaw dropped.

He laughed at my surprised expression, “Had feelings since the moment I met you, Y/N/N. I was down bad from the start.” The whole time?

Some point during your confessions, Luke had put his bag back on the floor, deciding he wasn’t going to flee the scene. You took another step forward, your body wanting nothing more than to be as close to your best friend as possible.

His hands cupped your cheeks, leaning down and kissing you slowly. Fireworks, instantly.

This felt right and you couldn’t believe it had taken the two of you so long to get to this point. You hooked your arms behind his neck, pulling him down closer. Luke smiled against your lips and you suddenly felt more confident. You let out a small sound of surprise when Luke squatted down, his hands leaving your face to hook around the back of your thighs to pick you up.

You were quick to wrap your legs around his torso, the feeling of your body flush with his feelings so right. He walked you two back over to the couch, sitting down, never breaking your kiss.

“I hope they never fix that pipe.” He mumbled against your lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh, of course, he’d wish that. If they never fixed the pipe then Luke would have an excuse to stay with you longer.

“You can stay here for as long as you’d like, Lu.”

[lfghughes]

ok but hear me out, imagine McDavid's younger sister dating Matthew Tkachuk

a/n: i loved this concept and idk why but i just see connor being a very overprotective brother.

“I just don’t get why you’re moving here, why would you want to move when you can stay closer to your family?” You should have known that telling Connor your plans would have gone this way. He had always been the protective older brother but the minute you had really entered the dating world he had only gotten worse. It didn’t get any better when you started dating Matthew Tkachuk and even though they had no problems beforehand now Connor liked making problems simply because you were his baby sister.

“Maybe because my boyfriend lives here and flying back and forth is tiring. I finished school this past semester there’s nothing really keeping me there.” You told him and you knew the minute the words left your mouth it was. “Except your family.” There it was, you weren’t sure why he had to make this a picking game.

He had willingly come down to Florida to watch the Eastern Conference Final with you and spend some time here with Matthew and his family. For some reason you had thought now would be a good time to spring this information on him, something you and Matthew had talked about for months now but was actually close to becoming a reality. “Connor, you’re my big brother and I appreciate you but I’m not a baby anymore.” You warned him because you knew this wasn’t about just the moving.

“It’s just you’re my baby sister, you’re one of my best friends and now you start dating this guy and you’re just leaving.” You knew Matthew would be home soon, he had just gone to grab some takeout food for all of you and you wanted to get everything cleared up before he got back. “We’ve been together for a year this isn’t sudden.” You pointed out and he gave you a big sigh, nodding his head and you knew it was finally hitting him that he was being unreasonable.

At that same moment you heard the door open and in came your boyfriend with what seemed like enough food to feed the whole apartment complex. “I got a little bit of everything for us.” He told you as he set everything on the table. “Babe, there’s three of us.” A laugh left your lips as he gave you a quick kiss to the top of your head, the way he always greeted you regardless of how long it had been since the last time he saw you.

You all sat down at the table, grabbing different containers of food and enjoying the deliciousness of it. Connor took this time to finally speak up. “So Matthew, I heard my sister was planning on moving down here with you.” Your stomach did a flip because was he about to just freak out on your boyfriend about this. “Yeah, we talked about it but we also thought that for the summers and off season we could go up there to spend time with your family and mine.”

That was one thing you hadn’t mentioned to Connor because of the way he had originally reacted but you could tell what Matthew had said was enough to soften the whole blow of you moving away from your family. “Well, I guess all I can say is you better take care of her and don’t think that next season I’ll take it easy on you just because you’re dating my sister.”

[palmtreesx3]

Act 3 - Getting Lucky

Praise Kink (Robin's Chapter)

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Series Summary: (11.2k)  Fall is settling in in the Windy City, and Steve and Robin are swept up in their overthinking. The pair are left to their own devices at the shop while Murray is off traveling to Sex Toy conventions. Robin and Alex have grown closer and are the perfect pair, but Robin’s growing a bit of a complex because the relationship isn’t quite a s reciprocal as she’d like, so she calls in the reserves to give her the tutorial she needs to overcome her trepidation and dive right in. In order to repay Steve for his thorough tutorial, the girls start to meddle, because if they can see one thing, it’s that Steve loves a good self-sabotage. Everyone’s a little concerned over the opinions of others and seeking praise and reassurance in all the wrong places, so grab a cozy blanket, be a good girl and enjoy this chapter of Get Off. 

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex paraphernalia, dildos of all variety, sexual innuendo aplenty, eating pussy and explicit descriptions of said act, dirty talk and praise kink, allusions to jerking off.

“I swear to Christ. ROB! I know you have it!” Steve shouts out as he’s pacing through the apartment corridor looking everywhere but nowhere all at once. The pacing was more of a nervous habit, looking like a mother who is trying to walk off her frustration before she loses her cool on her lovely, doe eyed child after they broke the expensive family vase. Speaking from experience as the boy who knocked over said vase…he’s probably picked up a few mannerisms from his mother, now that he thinks about it. Back when she had time for him. He shakes his head in annoyance - at Robin and his childhood - hands flailing in the air above his head “You gotta fuckin stay out of my closet!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Steve.” Her head pops out of the bathroom, looking down the hall at her friend who is zipping between his room and hers. 

“You still have BOXES in there Robin. BOXES. We’ve lived here six months. SIX. We’ve gone through an entire season. It’s fall now. Please for the love of God, unpack your things. How do you find anything in there?”

“I know where my things are, thank you very much. I just happen to enjoy some of the things from your closet, so sue me.” 

Steve is exasperated with his friend. He has been dealing with Robin encouraging him to spend every last extra dollar he has after bills, beers at Benny’s and whatever else they do to fill their time to buy new clothing because his “style is like a billboard asking for abstinence in this city,” yet she is sticking her nose in there every other day stealing pieces of clothing he’s had for years. “One man’s trash is another lesbian’s treasure” she tells him every time he bitches about the double standard. 

“I fuckin told you. Hands off the yellow sweater. Off limits. That and this jacket….they’re NOT getting traded in. They are not fair game. Got it?” he’s glaring at her, one hand on his hip, the other holding up a steely gray Members Only jacket she still can’t believe hasn’t been ruined from all of the bullshit it’s been through back at home. 

“Yeah yeah, It’s a great layering piece, can you even blame me? How do you even still have that thing, anyway? Like, how wasn’t it ruined after Billy clocked you right in the nose?” 

“ROBIN. SHUT UP!” he shouts, storming off to his room to get ready for their shift. 

“Love you too, Dingus!”

Robin finishes readying herself for their afternoon at work, stepping out of the bathroom after perfectly smudging her imperfect eye pencil and adding a red lip that rivals the auburn in her hair. Fiery undertones just like the girl. Her lips, her hair, her personality - they all match her new red Doc Martin boots that she’s really just awful complaining about. She heard all about it - how hard it was to break those fuckers in. Got some tips from the Queens at The Rainbow Room that she’s gone back to now for shows numerous times since that first night. Alex asked her upwards of 10 times if she was sure she wanted them and if she was ready for the commitment to breaking them in so they don’t lay dead like a fashion sacrifice at the back of her closet. Told Steve all about how she was going to push through and how it couldn’t be that bad. 

Well…it was. It was that bad - and Robin is not built to stick it out. She’s not formulated to power through. The problem is, she wants to wear them. Needs to wear them. They look good. So she settles on the only thing she’s ever been able to do to distract her from her pain (emotional and physical) and that’s: Never shut up and complain about it non-stop but only to Steve and take her entire bad mood out on Steve. Needless to say…Steve is tired. 

Steve is in the kitchen, two brown bags perched on the counter top. “Apple or banana Robbie?” he asks, holding up one of each in the air. “Banana. Definitely.” she smirks, as he tosses it in the bag, labeled with scrawling chicken scratch Robin along the front in pen. She leans against the counter as he wraps up two sandwiches, tosses in some snacks and folds over the bag before handing it to her. 

“Thanks mom.”

Steve doesn’t grace her with a response. He just rolls his eyes as he tosses on his jacket and grabs his keys. “Let’s go, loser. And don’t drag your feet in those boots. Pick them up and fuckin walk. We got a shift to get to.” 

The lock clanks as Steve opens up the front door and clicks on the neon sign in the window to designate the shop is open for business. Murray handed Steve the keys last week before he headed off to Las Vegas for an annual Adult Industry Product Conference. Showed Steve the brochure for Sensual Revolution '93 and told him "Maybe I'll bring ya along next year, big boy. Just take care of my baby while I'm gone and you never know! I might just upgrade you from Sex Shop Employee to Sex Shop Supervisor."

Not that Steve had aspirations to move up in the world of The Hideout and make a career out of it, but if Steve could tide off his father a little longer by being able to tell him that he's a Retail Supervisor that might buy him a little more time without hearing about how bullshit his work is. 

"We're open Rob! I'm gonna go restock the shelves in the back." 

"Yeah buddy. I got the register! I still can't believe that massive rush on massage oils last week. I still wanna know what sparked that… " she trails off. 

Everything seems fine for the rest of the morning until the loud hiss of  a massive delivery truck arrives out front, blocking up the narrow lanes of the city streets, horns honking and shouts out the passenger side windows starting immediately. Robin perks up, setting all four legs of her wooden stool back on the ground. 

“Uh, Dingus? Are we expecting a delivery?”

“No…what are you talking about Robin?” Steve shouts from his spot, crouched down in the back stocking the lower shelves. He hears the bell ding, and just as he stands up to peer out and what’s going on he sees the delivery hat of a man at the counter and the expansive vista of the biggest delivery truck he’s ever seen show up at the shop covering every inch of space their front windows have to offer. 

Robin's eyes widen as she reads the delivery slip, "Urgent: Assorted dildos for The Hideout."

She bellows out a laugh, not once looking up from the packing slip she still holds in her hands. “Steve. The man says you need to sign for these.”

“What the fuck is it Rob?” And with that, she silently extends the paper out to her friend. He snatches it quickly as she holds back her chuckling, rumbles leaving her nose that emanates in the back of her throat. His eyes scan the form until he gets to the bottom, reading the slip he does a double take. with an unexpected, jaw-dropping inventory of various dildos, more than they could ever imagine.

“I’m not…I can’t sign for this! He didn’t say a goddamn thing about any delivery let alone this! It can’t be right. Nope…. I…no.”

Steve’s still rambling a bit as he walks out the front door to the truck, along with the driver. Robin’s lips are curled up in a permanent smile as she chomps on her doublemint gum, getting the worlds biggest kick out of watching Steve pacing back and forth on the concrete, hands alternating between flailing in the air and resting on his hips in a stance that looks both like dominance and defeat all wrapped into one. 

Before long, Steve comes barreling through the front door, pushed open by force with both hands, finding them raised up by his ears in surrender and shaking his head in irritation. “They’re bringing them in Rob. It’s 10 pallets. 10 PALLETS OF DILDOS. I don’t even know where we’re gonna stick all these dicks. Jesus.”

“TEN? What the fuck? What happened?”

“Apparently Murray’s having a grand old time in Vegas. Did a little bulk ordering at the conference. Got them shipped direct and told the company Harrington’s got em.” his face scrunches up as he mocks Murray’s intonations. 

“No…it’s fine. It’s cool. We’ve got it. We’ll figure it out.”

“Steve…for two people who have never handled that much dick in their entire lives, I’m a little skeptical.” 

“No, no…if Murray were here…what stupid shit would he have us doing?”

And with that, Steve sets off. He immediately figures that Murray would be blasting off directions for him to unload the goods, so after ripping open the wrapping of the pallets himself…he instead naturally gives that job to Robin. Figuring Murray wants to offload the old inventory, Steve gets some sale information ready and decides to mark down everything on the floor - sure as shit that Murray got some new and improved models, fancier faux cocks, better colors, better…whatever bells and whistles. He doesn’t care really…he just needs to make room. 

After running off a huge stack of flyers on the copier in Murray’s office, he tells Robin he’s heading out. With a groan from the girl that echoed in the storeroom, he promised he’d return with a fresh cup of coffee and her favorite muffin if she’d just shut the fuck up about it. “But Steeeve” she groans “I can’t look at any more of these. Look at this one! It’s an actual monster cock. It’s got tentacles!”

“Aw, ew, gross.” his nose scrunches up and he turns on the balls of his feet, the new black chucks already fading a bit since they’re suddenly all he’s wearing - the red swoosh of his Nike Cortez’ tucked back a little further in his closet than they’d ever have been before. He jogs out the front door, stack of thin copy papers tucked as best he can under his arms, 

It’s a warm fall day today, sun heating up the streets in the warmth of the afternoon, as he maneuvers the busy city sidewalks, tails of his unbuttoned shirt trailing behind him, a well-worn black band t-shirt he picked up from the Goodwill downtown tucked into his denim. He almost didn’t pay any mind to the shirt as he scoured for his size in the bin laid out before him, but threw it on top of his pile anyway after reading the band scrawled across the front - Pearl Jam. 

Steve’s on a mission. He’s trying to get down the street to some of their notorious partners so he can tack up a flyer on their community board, or leave a stack of them at their bar or with the bouncer. Anywhere he knows won’t turn up their nose at a rudimentary flyer boasting discounted dildos. He makes a mental note to insist that Hopper and Joyce leave some on the bar at Benny’s even though he knows at least Hopper will bitch about it nonstop. He knows Joyce’ll look at him like a doting mama before scowling at her counterpart and telling the boy Whatever you need, honey.

He doesn’t see you until you’re right on top of him, and to be fair, you didn’t see him either. So when your chests connect in a thump and everything the both of you are carrying falls to the gritty sidewalk, both of your first instincts are to bitch about it. “What the fuck is your problem man, y’wanna watch where you’re going next time?” you scowl.

Before he could even get the snarky words out of his mouth, he says your name and you snapped out of it in an instant. “Oh God, Steve. It’s you! Sorry, I…I’m just in a fuckin’ mood today. I’m knee deep in midterms and I really just don’t want to read another essay about family dynamics and how my dads expectations really fucked me up - y’know?”

“Yeah, oh I know. I mean, not about the grading essays thing, but…about the dads expectations fucking you up. That part I can relate to. Not the smartie pants stuff.”

“Ok, well…” Your eyes roam up and down his face, seeing how scatterbrained he looks, now crumpled wads of paper crushed up against his chest. “We’ll unpack that little tidbit another time, then. Haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Maybe some coffee again? That shop by your place was nice last time we met up. Good music spinning, so - y’know they got me hooked.” 

Steve nods in agreement. After that night in the cab, you’ve seen eachother a few times. Nothing crazy, but intentionally. First you met up at the record store so you could show him some other albums he might like. The next time, you went back to the ice cream place from that ill-fated date night because for some reason, ever since then, you’ve been jonesing for a scoop of that peanut butter swirl ice cream and ended up sitting for two hours just talking. 

The last time, he invited you to their favorite coffee shop, sat at a table just adjacent to where Robin and Alex sat, scooping the foam off of one anothers cappuccinos and lattes with their fingers, ankles tangled together under the table, clearly whispering and staring at the pair of them and doing an awful job of keeping their voices low as they spend the whole time making conjecture about what exactly is going on here with the two of them. 

Robin was nice, she seemed quirky and fun and Alex seemed like some of the angsty, take-on-too-much-responsibility type girls trying to stand out in the crowd at the University you’re teaching at - which basically means you know exactly how to socialize with her if need be. But since then, you’ve been so wrapped up in the start of your semester, taking on a bigger courseload than normal and getting wrapped right up in the happenings of the fall semester to keep up with anything but teaching and grading. 

Steve finally talks after a few seconds “Yeah, it’s really…been awhile. Thought you forgot about me.”

“No. No! Well…you haven’t forgotten about me huh?” Your eyes flick down to his shirt, the typography finally catches your eye, and you point to it with a smirk. 

“What do you have here, anyway?” You snatch one of the fliers off the ground as the autumn breeze starts to swirl it around at your feet. 

“It’s nothing! No…well. Our boss got a huge shipment in - like, HUGE and we have to make room…..on the floor. So….I’m running a sale.” 

“Oh hoh hoh, this is great. Is Robin working? I kinda need a break. Show me this shop of yours? Please? I gotta see the merchandise.”

He is absolutely dreading this. He knows he can’t say no to you. He’s been doing great those few times you hung out together, but he can’t deny that just thinking about you makes him sweat, and he has continued to - over and over and over again - indulge himself to thoughts of your voice, your face, your body as he loses himself in the tense grip of his fist. So you have no idea how much of a hold you have on the guy. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that you have him wrapped around your little finger. And he’s utterly embarrassed, because he knows it. Stupid Steve getting obsessed with another girl again. Convincing himself he’s in love. Yeah…

The pair of you walk through the door of the shop not long after that. The sounds of voices from the back room ring out, cackling laughter that is irrefutably Robin echoing through the store. Steve leads you back behind the curtain to see Alex sitting, entirely amused watching Robin lose her cool at every dildo she pulls from the box. Robin is there, sitting cross-legged, holding up a gigantic transparent pink dildo, wobbling in the air, her cheeks almost the same color as the jiggling member. “People fit THIS up there? Who LIKES that? I’ll…Look at this thing!” 

You immediately burst out in laughter and Robin looks up, beaming when she sees you. Eyes darting back and forth between you and Steve. “It’s not as bad as you think, Robin.” you say. Entirely too seriously, and Steve almost gives himself whiplash looking at you as you shrug it off and move closer to inspect the wares. “Ran into Steve on the street, saw you guys were having a sale and I HAD to see all the fuss.”

“Steve…lotsa stuffin’ the muffin gonna be going on after we sell those bad boys.” 

A litany of curses rolls off of Steve's tongue in response as he yells something about setting up a sale display in the front.

They all follow Steve out to the floor as he works up the display space. Robin slides over next to him and starts to help, setting a box filled to the brim, bulbous heads sticking out over the edge. She leans over into his shoulder so she can whisper “Stevie…your face is way too serious right now. The girl you like is here while you’re tossing around fake dicks. You gotta smile about it or…lighten up or something. She’s not gonna like your sourpuss face. I think I’m the only one that puts up with that”

“Rob…she's not.. I don’t - '' but he’s cut off by the whirr and buzz of a pile of vibrating dildos Robin has accidentally activated. Moving and bouncing while making an incredible racket against the glass top of the case, the dildos start toppling over the ones Steve has meticulously stacked already and buzzing right off the side of the case and onto the floor. The vibrating dildos are chaotically bouncing and toppling everywhere. “Shut up, you two!” Robin yells back at you and Alex sitting curled up in the seating area, faces red with laughter. 

Just then, a group of the shop's regular customers start trickling in flyers in hand, intrigued by the commotion. Robin, overwhelmed with the chaotic situation she herself unfurled, immediately goes to assist the customers, leaving Steve behind to deal with the cacophony of mechanical penises. To distract from the mess, Robin begins a rambling speech about the history and uses of various dildos, sharing more information than anyone asked for and with surprising accuracy and detail. The three of you all look on in amazement and curiosity as Robin suddenly transforms from a bumbling, blushing sexual idiot to this dildo encyclopedia in no time. 

“Hey! Ladies…watch this!” Steve picks up a few of the dildos and starts juggling them in the middle of the store with particular ease. In a rare moment where Steve shakes off the uptight strings that tie him up and hold him down, his effort to make things a bit more lighthearted, pay off. 

Everyone’s hollering and smiling and laughing, however, his juggling skills are far from perfect. After a good run, he misses one - a big sparkly silicone thing that starts bouncing wildly across the counter and lands with a smack and a slap in front of the customer at the register. Robin and the customer look down at it, mouths open in disbelief. 

Steve’s bracing himself to get yelled at by one or both of them, but instead both blow out a laugh they were holding back before the whole store erupts into amused giggling and full on laughing fits.

After the shop closes that afternoon, the four of you find yourself walking down the sidewalks, sky overcast with the October chill that creeps in at sunset to steal away the warmth and glow of the day. Standing in front of a bowling alley tucked away on a side street, Alex cocks her eyebrows at the others and says “How about we have some more fun?”

Knees knocking together as you and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder tying your ratty, overworn bowling shoes onto your feet, Robin and Alex return with drinks from the bar and plop down next to you. “Drinks on me tonight, assholes.” Robin proclaims happily - that is until Steve quips back “Good, you owed me for your stupid dead keychain pet again anyway.”

Narrowing her eyes at Steve’s, she ignores his commentary and quickly moves on. “Alright, two on two. Let’s see how bad this is gonna go!” She claps her hands and rubs them together in preparation. 

“Guess it’s you and me, huh?” You bump shoulders with Steve, “I promise, I’m not that bad, so maybe we have a shot.”

Over the next hour the group is rolling with fits of giggles and laughter after dropped bowling balls and rolls down the gutter and baskets full of bar popcorn, kernels falling at their feet as they talk. 

On one side, Robin’s begging for bumpers after four in a row has Alex taunting her to no end. Beers are refilled while Alex tugs on Robin’s belt loops to maneuver around her, palm running over the sliver of exposed skin on her back as she leans down to grab her ball. Cheers are shouted while Robin celebrates a Spare with a chaste kiss to the apple of Alex’s cheek. Comfortable silences are filled with her nervously picking at the strings jutting out on the frayed knee of Alex’s pants and filling the void by picking at the cuticles of her nails instead when Alex gets up to take her turn. 

On the other side, Steve has bumped into you twice. Once causing your ball to fall out of your hands and barely missing your feet. He’s gotten his arm tangled in his open flannel shirt as he tosses the ball, so he takes it off and hangs it over the back of the chair where you’re sitting, the sides of his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he moves away and eyes darting nervously when he hears a tiny scoff coming from Alex, whose eyes are fixated on him with amusement. You and Steve are faring well and scoring better than your counterparts, but every time you go to celebrate, the interaction falls flat - one going in for a hug while the other sticks two hands up for a high five, the next time going to the high five while the other jabs their fist in the air awkwardly. 

Alex slinks over towards Robin and whispers, “This…is fuckin painful.”

Over the crack of falling pins and music on the jukebox, Alex shouts over to you, “So how exactly do you know Steve?”

“Oh, yeah…honestly, we just ran into each other a few times. All very random really. Saw him first at the record store when he was getting his first vinyls. I was there picking up my new copy of the Pearl Jam one…I guess I kind of made the suggestion he try it out himself.”

Robin flits her eyes from Steve to you, now wholly making the connection on why Steve’s probably constantly playing "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" late at night. Steve sees her gears turning and he tries to signal for her to drop it, but in true Robin fashion….she won't. 

“So wait, that’s how you met her?” she jabs her thumb in your direction while shouting at Steve.

“W-well, yeah I guess technically. I didn’t really even know your name until the cab thing like…a month later.” he says casually, directed at you even though it was Robin who asked the question. 

Looking at Robin’s blank stare, you fill in the blanks for her when Steve doesn’t continue. “Yeah. Well…Steve kind of knight-in-shining-armored me from a bad date one night. I recognized him from our run ins, but we still didn’t actually know each other at all, but he caught me at the tail end of probably the absolute worst date of the year. Dude made me pay for everything and left me to find a cab myself and I was just a fuckin mess standing there on the sidewalk trying to count my change after paying for dinner.”

“Oh, yes…Stevie loves to be the hero. Dontcha?” Robin pokes at his shoulder. 

“Well yeah, he really was. I definitely didn’t have enough cash for the cab so we shared one and had our first proper conversation, bitched about how awful first dates are - or dating in general, right? God it’s been the worst.” your words trail off as your brain is clearly rolodexing through all of the failures and wasted nights you’ve collected. 

Smiling at Steve as you say it, “We just kinda keep running into one another, so we’re just embracing it!” Steve nods in agreement, tight lipped smile pulling up on the left side, oddly quiet as he listens to you recount how you’ve found yourself here in his circle. 

“Hmm…cute.” Robin says, a little over exaggerated, as she unties the frayed shoelaces of her bowling shoes and walks up to the counter to return them.  

At the counter, Robin stands leaned over while Alex slips her hand in the back pocket of her wide leg denim. You and your teammate for the evening fall in line next to one another behind them, shoulder to shoulder again, looking over at one another, waiting to see who will talk first. 

“We really whooped their ass, didn’t we?” 

“Thanks for having me around today.”

You both spill out at the same time. Both agreeing with a nod and a smile, eyes locked together just as Alex and Robin turn around to face you and move out of your way. “You’re up, Romeo.” She winks as she reaches out to grab Alex’s outstretched hand and head towards the door. Steve watches as they tumble out of the entrance and the door closes behind them, the pair illuminated through the glass by the lights on the city street as his friend leans in to kiss her girlfriend, like some perfectly lit scene out of a movie. 

This all started because Steve tied the stem of the cherry from his Old Fashioned and set it casually next to his coaster in the bar. Gasps of "How didn't I know you could do that?" from Robin. 

“Wow. Wow. Honestly. Who knew Steve was such a Cunnilinguist over here? Fluent in Mumbling in the Moss.” Robin’s teasing, but her jaw is just about on the bar and she’s fighting back the impressed look she has on her face. “Let me get my notebook out. I gotta take notes…please, please don’t stop on account of me. Continue….”  Robin gestures at Steve in a bow like he’s a fuckin member of the Royal Court of Pussyeaters, taunting him with wide sarcastic eyes and a glint of actual curiosity he can clock from a mile away. 

“Robin, YOU have even said it yourself.”

“Oh yes, how could I ever forget the sounds Melissa from upstairs made on our first weekend here? Right. Sorry. Blocked that out of my memory bank shortly after it happened.”

The thing about Robin is, this city has made her feral for new things and new information. Probably something to do with the fact that she can actually live like she wants to more openly, that there’s less judgment or even a community. Maybe it's a lot to do with the fact that the girl who used to cringe at the word boobies is hawking condoms, crotchless panties and sex toys for a living and learning about her sexuality in real-time, but Robin has turned into a sexual sponge. She’s shy about something until she’s not. Zero to sixty in ten seconds flat. She sees it once, asks a few curious and direct questions and suddenly she’s ready to rock and roll. 

Over the past few months, Steve has watched her boundaries literally crumble at her feet. The first time it happened, early in the summer when they first got the job, he found himself sweeping the same spot in the front of the store for twenty minutes straight. He was completely distracted when Robin went on and on extremely enthusiastically about Ben Wa balls to a customer. 

At first he was lingering because the girl was pretty - shiny hair grazing the tops of her shoulders, sunkissed and peeking out of her tank top, glittering gems dangling from her ears. He was admiring the girl, until he heard Robin talking about those balls like she knew what she was doing. He hadn’t thought about those since he had that stupid sandwich shop slip up, but apparently since then, Robin has become a goddamn connoisseur. He almost dropped the broom when she gave the girl some of her favorite personal tips to enjoy them as she checked her out.  

Since then, Steve can’t even count on one hand how many times he’s had to hear Robin talking people’s ears off about fuckin Ben Wa balls. She’s like a Ben Wa sales person every night at the bar, yapping anyone’s ear off about them, talking about no less casually than like it’s talking about how you take your coffee. Just rambling on about how if you slip them in before your date, it pays off at the end of the night, or how if you add a little vibration they go wild. If she didn’t already work at a Sex Shop, he’d tell her to get a job at one with how she’s acting. Steve’s no prude, God no… but he doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to his Robin talking about what she sticks up her vagina like that. 

So now, here they all sit, at the corner of the bar at Benny’s, and she’s trying so hard not to look like she’s desperate for a lesson, but Steve knows. He knows she’s trying so hard to get information. So she can deliver. She won't ever do something unless she's sure she'll be good at it. She won’t say it out loud, but she wants to return the favor and she’s terrified she’s gonna do it wrong or be awful at it. He knows all of this just by looking at her body language and the look in her eyes. And shit, it makes him cringe thinking about it, but when Hopper leans over the bar and says “I don’t think he’s really that good if he’s not gonna spill the beans? Pretty face like that has probably never been sat on in his life.” he’s all in. He’s not one to back down from a challenge. Stubborn as ever. 

“Well…You’re not exactly wrong about that. Not for nothing, though…I tried. I swear. Hawkins, Indiana is not filled with adventurous girls that are willing to do that.”

“Wait…who did you ask to sit on your face, Harrington? Do I even wanna know?”

“Don’t worry about it Robbie.” He waves her off. “It doesn’t matter anyway. No one took the bait so I stopped asking. Plus, most of those girls didn’t even want me to do any of it in the first place - I mean, after some convincing a few of them changed their opinion afterwards but still...”

“So…wait. You didn’t spend all your years as King Steve feasting on clams? That makes no sense? How can you even self-proclaim you’re soooo great at it if you don’t have that much practice?”

“First of all, I did just fine thanks, and secondly it’s not about practice, Rob. I’m a fuckin natural” Steve grins wide like a cheshire cat around the rim of his glass as he throws back a sip, knowing his comment will send her into a tizzy.

“Oh you’re just disgusting Steve Harrington. So fucking smug about everything.” As she rambles on, Steve lets her go, barely noticing that he’s not paying any mind to her, and he asks Joyce if he can have the jar of cherries behind the bar. Joyce smiles at him and winks, before sliding the glass container down the bar to him, catching it in his hand and wiggling it in Robin’s face. 

“You wanna learn from the best, Buckley?”

He hands his friend a cherry and asks her to tie the stem and the first one took her 18 minutes. She’s awful at multitasking, so while he’s trying to fill the time with tips - about how she shouldn’t dive right in. “You gotta play around a little. Show the girls some attention, work your way up her thighs… don’t just stick your face in it. Got it?” She doesn’t. She’s got her brows furrowed and one eye squinted shut as she’s exaggeratedly moving the cherry stem around her mouth by jabbing her tongue every which way. 

He rolls his eyes and holds his hand out in front of her mouth and tells her to spit it out, like a small child who got in the candy bowl and has to give up her treat after being scolded. The next hour goes by with Steve trying so hard to be a patient teacher. 

He starts from the beginning, making sure she doesn’t skip over his first lesson: Approach but do not enter. He tells her about how no matter how bad she wants to, she can not under any circumstances make full and direct contact. "If you use your tongue like you just did with that fuckin cherry stem you're gonna scare her, okay Jabby"

In an almost reverent and detailed narrative he continues on telling tales of kisses up ankles and legs and warm breaths against their entrance. Teasing and touching and tounging through wet panties. Featherlight touches and sucking purple marks along the juncture of thighs. At this point, Hopper is leaned over his bar looking on like a little kid hearing about knights and dragons in a bedtime story. He needs a napkin to wipe up his drool after listening to the pussy poetry coming off of Steve Harrington’s lips. 

Steve dangles out Cherry #2 for Robin to snag with her lips before moving on to his second lesson: Start slow. Robin has her mouth open catching flies, cherry stem just resting between her teeth as Steve goes on to explain how she should kitten lick just around everything she has to offer, then in. Gentle strokes exploring what’s there, tongue flat, loose, gentle. Circling the clit, running it along all of the places in between. “Opening up the flower,” he says. Bonus points if you make noise while you do it, tell her she looks pretty he says and Robin nods in understanding. 

Palm extended again, Steve nods as the stem falls into it, telling Robin “Nice. You’re getting there. This’ll be important soon.”

Cherry #3. Take a break. He looks her dead in the eyes when he says “You gotta take a break here, Robbie. Don’t do that thing you do about every other thing in the world. Where you’re all in and super focused and too excited and you forget the steps. BACK OFF. Do the thigh thing again, just less is more for a minute here….You hear me? Now gimme that stem.”

Robin pulls the stem out of her mouth, holding it up to her eyeline and sees her knot is tighter this time and she's done it quicker. Much quicker than before. She grins “Got it! Got it! Am I doing good?”

Steve smiles at her, and pops a cherry into his mouth, handing one off to his friend and grinning like a devil as he hands one to Hopper, too. Both take the offering, despite Hopper acting way too cool about it, he plays along. Cherry #4. Dive in. Swirl, slide and suck. Alternate until you figure out what works for her. Listen for the sounds, the breaths. Pick up speed. "Lay that tongue flat again and lick her up from back to front, because she's gonna taste like heaven." Robin nods as he tells her to add a finger or two if she wants it but keep playing with that clit, rolling and rubbing and maybe even some flicking just like that cherry stem. 

All three of them pull their stems out, candied cherries already warm in Robin and Hoppers bellies so they could focus on the stem. Steve, however, pulls out his stem to show off the tight knot and sticks out his tongue with the cherry still there, untouched and carefully maneuvered out of the way of the action the whole time. He makes a show of swirling around the cherry, undulating his tongue with a smirk turned up on the corner of his lips before popping the red orb between his teeth and crushing it with a grin. 

“Okay, fine. You sound like you know what you’re doing Harrington…that…yeah…thanks for that.” Hopper says as he walks away, turning his stem between his fingers, a little too deep in thought and mulling over Steve’s words as he serves up the other patrons of the bar. 

Stirring the ice of her now empty glass, she eyes her friend. Still processing that he gave her such a detailed lesson so she can effectively eat out her girlfriend for the first time, not to mention the fact that listening to Steve Harrington talk about worshiping a woman like that kinda turned her on, it takes her a minute to finally break her silence.

She looks away from Steve before starting in on one of her tried and true rambles. “I gotta repay you for that weirdly effective tutorial. Just maybe one nugget of information. I mean, I may have never been the giver, but consider me a receiver? A tight end? I dunno I was trying to give you a sports analogy because you’re a jock. Were a jock…or whatever. Anyway. Girls…they don’t agree to sit on your face, man, and it's not because they don’t want it. They want it. It’s just, like, REALLY embarrassing.”

Steve looks at her confused. “What do you mean embarrassing?” 

“Like, 100% of us think we’re too big or not good enough. And being like that is a little intimidating. Even my skinny ass thinks I’ll crush a girl if I do it. “ 

“Too big? - oh.” It takes some time for Steve to understand, never having to deal with any type of insecurity like that ever before it never even crossed his mind that it has anything to do with themselves or their bodies. He always thought they just thought he was a weirdo for asking and making things complicated. He assumed they didn’t have time for any theatrics and just wanted to come and maybe sign up for a second date. 

Robin sees the wheels turning and the gears grinding in his head, and she knows this means he understands but is too engrossed in his analysis of the actual injustice of it all to speak words. “So, maybe approach it differently? Or find a chick who is just so fuckin confident she doesn’t give a fuck. But let me tell you one thing…it pains me to say this. Truly it does, but your nose…is MADE for it.”

“My nose?” his face contorts in a confused glare she knows all too well. 

“Oh baby, yeah…that nose is made for pushing a clit around.” 

“ROBIN!” Steve pushes his chair back, feet squeaking along the roughed up floor of the bar, as he walks over to the jukebox and leans over it, grumbling yet again about how she always takes it one step too far.

“You’ll thank me one day, handsome! You’re not the only one that has information to share, you know?”

Steve has never seen Robin like this before. He’s not sure what to do with the information his eyes are transmitting to his brain in this moment, so he just stands there unmoving. “Uh hello? Dingus? What’s the deal?”

Robin has exited her room in those stupid fucking red boots that she now is insisting are comfortable and fully broken in, but the fishnet stockings that follow her skin up her legs are not the first thing that make Steve do a double take. A white baby t-shirt sits under the spaghetti straps of a lacey, silky black slip dress, a cut up to the thigh that she may have put there herself. A chunky, more masculine belt looped around her waist - wait…is that from his closet, he thinks to himself. 

“Please stop looking at me like I’m an idiot. I look dumb, don’t I? Of course I do. I gotta change.” 

The only other time Robin has found herself in anything other than pants was that one goddamn time Nancy Wheeler dressed her up like a China Doll to trick that fancy psychiatrist guy, and that’s a memory she’s tried hard to suppress.But there are no frilly socks and poofy white collars on this dress. No stuffy cardigan. And even though she never thought of herself as particularly feminine, today for the first time in her life she feels it.  

“No! No Robbie, you look … great. I - I’ve just never seen you in like…anything like that. It’s…super fuckin’ cool okay? Like magazine cool. Like not friends with Steve Harrington cool.” he shakes his head as he throws some popcorn into his mouth. “Alex is gonna fuckin’ lose it. You gonna remember what I taught you at Benny’s? Tonight is your night, my friend, because she will not say no to you in that. For sure.”

“You think I’m gonna dine on the Adult Happy Meal tonight?” She says in a sly, teasing tone, knowing just her sexual euphemism will get Steve rolling his eyes and irritated with her in no time. 

“Y’know what, I was trying to pump you up. Tell you you did good…but fine. Be that way.”

And she hated, just hated to admit it, but Steve was right. Alex loved it. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Robin’s thighs all night. Her fingers lingered at Robin’s waist and along that belt anytime she was within reach and Robin’s skin tingled with anticipation. She felt possessed by Alex. On a short leash. And as the music thumped in her chest, she felt the dull aching throb building between her thighs at the same time. 

So it was no surprise when the two of them pummeled through Alex’s studio apartment door backwards, not taking their lips of one another with enough time to pay any attention to where they were going or what they were running into. Robin’s were slick with spit, cherry gloss and the smudges of the deep plum lipstick rubbed right off of Alex’s own plump lips. 

“This..” Alex picks at the straps of Robin’s slip dress. “This is nice.” She almost growls out, finger hooked under the thin piece of fabric, tugging Robin with her until they hit the edge of the bed. 

“I don’t think I told you how hot you looked tonight. It’s fuckin bananas.” Alex’s lips pepper kisses up the column of Robin’s neck leaving streaks of whatever pigment remained on her lips rubbed off like a trail of smoke, fanning the fire deep within both of them.

Alex’s nose is pressed up and into Robin’s temple, lips parted and breathy and tickling her ear. Tits smushed and pressed together the closest they could possibly be and Alex’s hand wastes no time slithering right into that opening left there by the makeshift slit cut into the side of the satin, up along her pelvis tugging the pesky fishnets out of the way and diving right back down into the hot wetness pooling in Robins’ underwear. 

“Oh, honey. Robin…so wet already?” Her fingers smooth back and front again, swirling around Robin’s clit and sliding right inside on the backswing. Robin chokes out a breathy moan, pouty lips gaping open, eyes rolling back and long eyelashes fluttering in the air like the wings of a butterfly. Alex slides those fingers back and forth, back and forth until Robin looks back at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her away just enough to look into her eyes. Alex doesn’t let up her motions, two fingers loudly moving through everything Robin is giving her. 

Robin reaches down towards the bed and takes Alex by surprise when she picks up one of her fluffy white pillows and pummels it at Alex’s head. “Ow, what the fuck!” Alex shouts. She looks at Robin, corners of her lips turning up into a mischievous smile, fingers curling up into the sky as she shrugs her shoulders teasingly. Alex’s face melts quickly into one of laughter - but only temporarily before she reaches for her own pillow and wails on Robin, smacking her right in the shoulder. 

Pillows are flying, both girls are laughing so much their tummies are starting to hurt. Fluff and feathers from the pillows are starting to puff out and flutter through the air. Robin lands a particularly good blow on Alex’s upper body that has her falling backwards into the bed laughing, and it’s in this moment Robin finds herself giggling, perched right on top of her girlfriend’s body.

She wanted this to happen. Really she did. That was the point. She’s come a long way but Robin is still too chickenshit to ask for what she wants in bed. She’s definitely too chickenshit to take charge. So as she lays here, leaning over Alex, pillows around them, blankets and comforters scrunched up along their sides in a sea of white linen, Robin leans down and connects her lips to Alex’s in the most possessive kiss she knows how to muster up. She spent all night feeling like she was on Alex’s leash, but for fucks sake, she wants to take a little too. 

She’s always a little frantic, but this? She’s tugging Alex’s shirt out from where it’s tucked into the pleated trousers hanging low on her hips tonight faster than she can blink. Her bumbling fingers are trying to find the confidence to be smooth about pushing her shirt up and up and up, but instead it’s just hurriedly shoved up far enough for Robin to get a little bit of access to her breasts. She slows down a bit just enough to savor how her fingers slide under the band of Alex’s bralette and brush over both of her nipples at the same time. 

God, Robin is losing her mind and she’s quickly going to get in her head if she doesn’t follow through. She knows that the second she lets her intrusive thoughts spiral, she’s going to be too worried about doing it wrong, or not being good enough that she’ll just run back home to Steve like a kicked puppy. So she takes a big breath - one that could be confused with someone diving down to the bottom of a summer swimming pool. Alex’s head pops up off the bed and is momentarily confused, but she falls right back into the mountain of pillows as she feels Robin’s hands extend, pressing her tits up and back into the mattress just as Robin’s nose starts to trail down, down towards her belly button. 

Kissing the softness of her girl's tummy, Robin tries hard to remember that this is not a test, before she keeps mouthing at the dough of her hips, dragging the waistband of her pants further and further down. Alex’s hipbone, popping out just for a peek, gets a small kiss from Robin before she swoops her finger down and into her trousers following the seam of her thighs. 

“Rob…Robin…what are you - oh fuck!” She cries out as she feels Robin’s blunt fingernails run up through her slit and back up, starting to fumble with the button. “Robin, what are you doing?”

Alex has felt great during this relationship, yeah she’s more of the giver, but there’s been plenty of grinding and sucking on nipples and self pleasure that have brought her to climax while the two of them have fooled around on couches and over the paper thin walls in their apartment as Steve sleeps next door. She’s been patient and attentive to Robin, knowing she’s still learning and exploring and not expecting her to do more than she’s comfortable with. But tonight she’s getting the distinct idea that Robin wants something a little different. 

“Rob, you don’t have to …just…lemme take care of it”

“NO. Alex. Stop it. I…I wanna try something. Okay? Please?”

“Oh-okay, sure. But just stop if it’s too much for you. I promise, I don’t need you to fingerfuck me tonight if you don’t really wanna go there yet.” Alex is talking while Robin ignores her, working the pants loose and starting to wiggle them down and over her wide and pretty hips. 

“Alex. Please. Shut up. I’m usually the one talking too much, but this time it’s you.” She connects her lips to whatever places she can reach on her stomach before looking back up at Alex, eyes wide and big and doe-like “And …I don’t want ot finger fuck you.”

With absolutely no notice after that, Robin’s head ducks down and quickly finds itself between Alex’s thighs, shoving the pants legs down as far as she can go while she runs her nose up along the edge of Alex’s deep purple panties. She hums loud enough for Alex to hear her and that alone has Alex’s eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.

 Robin starts with small nips and licks along the inside of Alex’s thighs and remembers specifically that a few good, deep licks over the panties might be a nice place to go next. It’s safe for her underneath a layer of protection - mostly for her ego. It’s like the mental boundary she has still standing before she takes her first real lick. But with a deep breath and a smile she quite literally can’t hold back, Robin flattens her tongue and runs it right up the center of Alex’s panties, flicking her tongue when she gets right where she knows her clit is hiding under that cotton. 

Alex’s hands jolt towards the bedsheets at the unexpected fervor on Robin’s tongue and the girl keeps exploring all around the exposed skin before taking the front of her underwear on her tongue, wrapping her lips around it and sucking, lapping, drooling right where she knows that clit is hiding from her. Alex is moaning and groaning under Robin and the sound is music to her ears - a symphony of praises like Robin has never quite heard before. She wants more. Needs more. 

Tugging down the sides of Alex’s underwear she rips them off and throws them on the floor behind her and stares down at what lays before her. Alex, bared to her, legs splayed out to each side. She can’t help but admire the pink shades of her lips and the perfect curls of the hair adorned there. She runs her fingers along the sides of her pelvis, tickling the pads of her fingers with the roughness of where her trimmed bush is growing in just a bit. Robin is pretty sure this is how a dog with a bone behaves, but she couldn’t care less. 

Next, she does something that even surprises herself. Rolling her tongue through her mouth, she gathers a glob of spit and lets it fall right on top of Alex’s clit, holding the hood back as the coolness hits her bundle of nerves. Robin blows gently on the wet skin, a small thread of saliva still clinging to her cupid's bow and Alex can not tear her eyes away from what is happening between her legs. 

Robin dips her head down and rolls her tongue, front to back, side to side before letting her lips wrap around her clit and suck. As she continues, flicking and flitting and moaning into Alex’s cunt, she lets her fingers wander up until she can feel the heat of her girlfriends arousal on her fingertips. She looks up at her and asks “Can I…can I put these in, too? Do you want more?”

“Jesus Christ, Robin” she gasps, “You’re trying to kill me right? Holy shit. Yes. I need more.”

Sliding her middle finger into her first, then second knuckle, just to test the waters, she’s quickly overcome with how soft and warm she feels in her hands. “Oh Alex, you feel so fuckin good.” She works that finger in further before sliding it out and adding in her ring finger, too. No resistance, only the slick sounds of Alex’s arousal and Robin's fingers working her up better than she knew was possible. 

Thanking god she knows how to play a brass instrument, knowing damn well her fingers and her mouth know how to multitask and move in tandem, she starts thinking about this orchestra between her girlfriends legs. Moving those fingers, not letting up with the beat and tempo she set for herself, she bends down to connect her soft lips back on Alex’s, lapping around the place she feels her fingers slipping in and out, licking along the edge of where her lips end and Robin’s fingers begin. Feeling the plunging and sucking around them as her pussy clenches around Robin’s fingers. 

“Ohhh fuck. Robin, goo-good girl, Rob. Feels so good.”

Robin feels her own pussy clench around absolutely nothing at Alex’s raise. Pulling out her fingers, Alex cries at the loss, but she quickly moans louder than Robin’s ever heard before as she replaces that emptiness with her tongue. Shoving it inside, curing upwards and soothing that ache with the warmth of her tongue. She remembers how she rolled and sucked on that cherry, and repeats those movements until she feels a wetness, a creaminess that makes her moan out loudly herself. The vibrations from Robin’s moaning are doubling down on the orgasm crashing through Alex’s body and with a yelp and a groan and a giggle, Robin has her head laying across Alex’s sweat slicked chest, staring up at her waiting. For approval? For literally anything. 

“Jesus, Robin that was….that was some top shelf shit. Wh-what…how? I mean, I’m not complaining but I was not expecting that.”

“It was fuckin’ hot wasn’t it?” she muses with a laugh.

“Lord help me, I…think you owe some thanks to Steve for all that, actually” she says painfully through her teeth. 

“No fuckin’ shit! My man!”

A scoff comes right out of Robin’s mouth, unable to hold it back.

“Maybe if he uses some of that magic pussy eating technique on whats-her-name she’ll be just as obsessed with him as he is with her.”

“RIGHT?”

The windows of the house are actually rattling, filled to the brim with young bodies living in downtown Chicago neighborhoods - friends and strangers alike. Robin and Steve stand outside waiting to enter, looking at Alex for the go-ahead. “I don’t really actually know the guys, it’s just….I mean it doesn’t fuckin matter. Look at this party.” she gestures up to the house, lights flashing from behind the curtains in the windows. “We just gotta wait another minute or two. I’m meeting someone else…”

“Someone else? Who else is coming?” Robin’s volume starts off loud and starts to fade into a smirk as she catches a glimpse of you approaching the group on the sidewalk. 

“Hey guys! Thanks Alex, I’m so glad I ran into you earlier!”

You clock the look Robin flashes at Steve and you almost feel slightly unwelcome if it weren’t for Alex, grabbing you by the crook of your elbow and pulling you forward into the house party, the duo still trailing behind trying to process what exactly is going on and why.

Robin jogs up to Alex’s side as they take the steps of the house two by two as they approach the door and leans in “What are you doing? When did this happen?”

Once through the threshold of the house, the loud music and shouting voices muffled their conversation with ease. “Oh whatever… listen, I ran into her at the coffee shop. Said after she went there with Steve that one time, she liked their Cappuccino so she’s been going back ever since. It was my chance to invite her out…maybe give them a nudge. I swear, I owe the guy after all that lip service last night.”

“You’re trouble, you know that? He thinks I’m trouble…but…”

“Maybe we're trouble together. Let’s go.”

Alex grabs Robin’s hand and trots off to the back of the house in search of a few drinks, trying desperately to lose both of you behind them and force you into close proximity. 

As planned, Steve can’t find the pair anywhere in a matter of seconds, searching over the heads and raised drinks of strangers on the living room, repurposed as a dance floor, it quickly becomes futile. In the loud atmosphere, The Rolling Stones Start Me Up blaring from the speakers, he turns to you, unable to get a word in and get you to move forward with him in search of a drink, he tugs at the collar of your blush pink jacket - one that makes him smirk because he recognizes the ribbed collar and button clasp of the zipper jacket. Looking just like his own matching gray one, shoved in the back of his dresser lately in an effort to try and hide it better from Robin. 

An hour or so passes and Steve still hasn’t found Robin, not without trying because his eyes are constantly scanning the crowd, like a lifeguard scanning the water keeping children safe. She’s fine. It’s not my problem to babysit her, he thinks. She’s got Alex.

He’s still with you, leaning against the wall and watching as you dance along to every song that plays for the crowd. Right now, he’s got his eyes glued to your hips as you move along to Owner of a Lonely Heart and sip your lukewarm beer. 

You occasionally speak to him, but fuck if he actually has heard a thing you said. You haven’t stopped moving along to the music. It’s warm inside, so he’s holding your jacket now, while he sees the sweat dripping down the nape of your neck. Following it as it drips down and around the column of your throat. 

He clears his before he lets himself watch it go any lower, over your clavicle and jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Refill?” he asks, and you nod as the crowd chants out CAN'T TOUCH THIS, jumping in unison and making the floor shake. 

Armed with your fresh drink, you find yourself following Steve down the steps of the basement, concrete walls and dusty corners, a basement not meant to be inhabited but perfect for a late night party full of friends and strangers for whoever actually lives here. The pair of you plop down on a dingy sofa, rifling through your purse you pull out a black package and slide a slim black cigarette out if it’s case. He looks at you quizzically as you light it up, the warm and spicy smell of your Djarum Blacks filling the air around you. 

“A clove.” you exhale. “A clove cigarette? You want?” you pull one more drag off the cigarette and pass it off to Steve, who studies it before placing the filter to his lips. Pulling a drag, feeling something like cinnamon crackle through his lungs, his brain is fixated on how your lips were just right here where his are now. 

“Whoa, that's…different.” He coughs out. “I like it, though. It feels…like…cozy? Does that make sense?” 

Taking another drag and blowing out his smoke in one smooth motion this time, he hands it back over to you. Nodding and looking one another over as you pass the clove back and forth for a few minutes in comfortable silence, you’re broken out of your little bubble by the sound of cheating and squealing from the other side of the basement. A squeal that is unmistakably Robin.

The thump of the base echos against the damp and dirty cinder block walls and you and Steve turn the corner to see Robin, perched on top of an old wooden table, swaying and dancing, tank top straps falling off her shoulder as she sways to the beat 

Rhythm is a dancer. It's a soul's companion. You can feel it everywhere.

Robin is clearly shitfaced, as she falls to her knees and gyrates on top of the table, you hear Steve groan and he runs his hands through his hair before he goes to step forward. Putting your hand on his shoulder to stop him, he looks back at you confused. “She’s got it.” you gesture to Alex, who's standing there looking mildly concerned, while also letting her pretty girl have some fun. 

His protective nature is more evident than ever right now, and it warms you to see it. You’ve only ever really witnessed the snarky jabs and biting remarks that seem to be what their friendship is built on. The concern and softness on his face here is different. Maybe it’s not so much that he wants to be the hero - you remember Robin’s remark the other day at the bowling alley. Maybe he just…cares. 

The crowd around the table is cheering and egging Robin on the entire time, only shouting louder as EMF’s Unbelievable switches on, causing Robin to lose her footing. Shaken up, she reaches for Alex, a dazed look in her eye, while her girlfriend throws her arm over her shoulder and they head towards the stairs. “I’m taking her home. She’s a damn mess. A cute one, but a mess.” Alex says to Steve as she passes him on her way up the stairs. 

You and Steve trail behind, Robin’s lolling head looking like a ragdoll thrown over Alex’s back. “You sure you don’t need my help?” Steve asks. 

“I got it pretty boy. Just…do a welfare check on my girl in the morning. I swear if she wakes up in a pile of her own vomit though - that's on her.”

And just like that, you find yourself the recipient of Steve’s care and concern, as he looks at you on the corner of a quiet midnight street. “Gotta get you home safe too. C’mon.” Holding open your jacket for you - the one you almost forgot he’s been holding for you this whole time - you step inside. He wraps it gently around your shoulders, fingers lingering a bit softly just before he notices and gives you an awkward pat on them instead. 

“Are we walking, or are you gonna make me get you a cab again?” he teases. 

You roll your eyes as you start walking away. “My place isn’t far. Just this way. Y’gonna make sure I get there okay?”

Nursing hangovers and sore bodies the next morning, the pair have their feet sprawled out across their respective couches, curtains drawn tight keeping out the golden October sunlight, hoodies tied up around their heads keeping the noise out and the light dim. Robin gnaws on a bagel, untoasted, uncut just straight from the bag like a heathen while she is mumbling about what she and Alex have been up to lately. 

Steve’s head is hurting, but he really is happy to hear how supportive Alex is of Robin and all the cool things they are doing. He wants to hear more about it even though it feels like her voice is driving one hundred screws directly into his brain stem, so he tips back his bottle of water and tries to focus in. 

“We went to this sick basement venue the other night - the music scene there was so cool. You might have liked it Steve. I hear that vinyl collection you have spinning. I have to say, I’m impressed with your blossoming musical taste.” 

Just then, he’s hit with a chunk of bagel right on his forehead. Begrudgingly he lets the hunger win out, and takes a bite, needing something to sop up the hangover but too lazy to go down to the corner store for a proper greasy breakfast sandwich. 

“Might that have anything to do with a pretty lady who teaches at the University? Hmmm?” 

He can already tell Robin wants to lecture him. He doesn’t want to hear it. He knows what she's going to say, and maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he knows what she’s going to say because it’s not really that wrong, and he just doesn’t want to admit any of it or unpack any of it. Why do that when it’s going to blow up in his face anyway? What’s the point in getting his hopes up if he can just play it cool and casual and make like he’s not phased by it when it inevitably doesn’t work out. 

Steve already had his head running through this himself. The facts are, you are not a stupid girl and you’re not rolling around the city looking to settle down with some schmuck who juggles dildos at his day job. That’s pretty clear. That date that blew up in your face? That was at a nice restaurant. It was a serious date - or at least it should have been. Steve’s a 26 year old boy running around the city like it’s a playground trying to find himself and you’re an almost 30 year old woman with a career and a personality who is just way out of his league. 

“Robin, it’s… complicated.”

“No, no. I’m not seeing what exactly is complicated about it. She’s so COOL. Steve - this is exactly what you need. I don’t know why you will constantly throw yourself like a hotdog down a hallway at anything else that looks at you for a second, but these ones that are good for you. …ACTUALLY good for you, you pretend like it’s a pipe dream?”

With that, they are both startled at the bell yelling out from the phone on the wall, neither expecting a phone call this time. They both look at one another before Robin sighs, pushing herself to stand and clicking the buttons of her Tamagotchi on her leisurely walk over to the receiver. Picking up the phone and laying the handpiece on her shoulder, she continues her focus on caring for her beeping blob, dead set on winning this round before Steve watches her face go white as a ghost. 

Her eyes are boring into his, he’s mouthing What’s wrong and he gets nothing in response. His anxiety is swirling in his chest. It’s the kids isn’t it? He can’t help but immediately think that they are in imminent danger. He’s up and walking over, mentally ready to pack a bag and start the drive home before Robin silently hands the phone out to him. 

“It’s for you.” she says, stone faced and looking at him with pitiful eyes. 

Steve answers, a serious and curt hello into the phone when a familiar voice rolls out of the earpiece that makes him freeze. 

“Son… Can you please explain to me why someone would be telling me these astronomical stories about you - a Harrington - working at a Pornographic Store?”

Shit. 

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist  @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss @scoopshxrrington

[scary-grace]

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 3) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Chapter 3

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. Except now you know damn well that the thing that’s wrong with it isn’t the house itself – it’s what’s in it. What was put in it. What’s stuck in it. “In most hauntings, ghosts are summoned from the world between by conjurers, whether they like it or not,” Aizawa says. “These ghosts are bound unwillingly to specific locations and left to haunt them as they see fit. Eri was this type of ghost.”

“So’s Himiko,” Jin says. He pauses. “I think.”

“So was Magne,” Spinner adds. “She didn’t like it here.”

“Can’t she go back?” you ask.

Aizawa shakes his head. “Once a ghost has been summoned and bound, there’s only one way out,” he says – but he doesn’t tell you what that way is. Of course. “As I said, in most cases, the ghosts are bound to their haunts unwillingly. The ghosts who came willingly are the ones to be scared of.”

You’re smart enough to catch the implication. Most of the ghosts in the neighborhood didn’t want to be here. “You think Tomura did.”

“A ghost of his strength could have resisted the summons, and killed the conjurer who made it,” Aizawa says. “Your ghost is here because he chose to be.”

“Which is way we brought you to old man Aizawa,” Jin says. Aizawa, who’s not actually that old, rolls his eyes. “He’s got one of those, too.”

Not Eri. It’s not Eri, and Shinsou’s not a ghost, so – “Your husband’s a ghost?”

“He was a ghost,” Aizawa corrects. He looks even more tired than before. “I suppose it’ll be easiest to tell you what happened. It’ll cut down on the useless questions you’ll undoubtedly ask. My husband Hizashi was summoned form the world between two hundred and nineteen years ago, to haunt an opera house that was being built –”

Aizawa’s husband was a very powerful ghost, he says. He could have resisted the summons, but he didn’t, and he spent a hundred and fifty years terrorizing the opera house and everyone who set foot in it before the last person who owned it burnt it to the ground on purpose. “That was a mistake,” Aizawa says. “Destroying a haunt releases the ghost to wander. Releasing a ghost like Hizashi is – unwise.”

“Look up the opera ghost murders,” Spinner stage-whispers. You glance back at him. “Let’s just say Hizashi spent a lot of time embodied.”

Tomura’s words flash through your head: I can’t get it from you or the dog. You’d die. You stare at Aizawa. “Your husband killed people?”

“People who deserved it. Or people he felt deserved it,” Aizawa says. His voice is flat. “Ghosts aren’t human. They don’t think like humans do. Their sense of right and wrong is accordingly – skewed.”

“Sometimes Papa killed people who hurt other people,” Eri says. “Sometimes he killed people who were mean to their waiters. But that was before he met Dad.”

You’re still stuck a few sentences back, slowly piecing something together. “The energy doesn’t last long when they’re – embodied,” you say, stumbling on the word. “Your ghosts are just killing people all the time?”

“No,” Aizawa says shortly. “The ghosts in this neighborhood, excepting yours, are former ghosts. They no longer have that power.”

“We’re people now. We don’t need it,” Eri explains to you. She looks back to Aizawa. “Tell how you met Papa!”

Aizawa sighs. “My current job is as an author. Prior to this, I was an investigative journalist. My specialty was exposés, and I often took risks to ensure the truth came to light. During this time, unbeknownst to me, I caught Hizashi’s attention. He began watching me, following me – helping me, although our definitions of helpfulness diverged more often than not. His word for it was ‘haunting’.”

That’s Tomura’s word for it, too. A shiver runs down your spine. “On my last assignment, I was investigating corruption in the police force,” Aizawa says. “While I discovered plenty of it, I also discovered something worse – a serial murderer, using his role in law enforcement to conceal his crimes. I knew that no one would believe me unless I brought them incontrovertible proof. I took appropriate precautions, or so I thought, then confronted him to force a confession.”

“And it didn’t work,” you guess.

Aizawa’s fingers trace a scar under his right eye in a movement that almost looks unconscious. “It didn’t go as planned,” he says. “I was badly injured. If Hizashi hadn’t intervened, I would have been killed. As it was, I fell unconscious. When I woke up in the hospital three days later, Hizashi was there. Alive.”

“Not a ghost anymore,” you clarify. Aizawa nods. “How?”

“Ghosts can embody themselves permanently if they kill someone and take the complete measure of their life-force,” Aizawa says. “That’s what Hizashi did, and Eri. That’s what they all did.”

Eri killed someone. You glance at her, more than a little creeped out, and find her smiling a gap-toothed smile. “I had to,” she says. Her pupils open and shut again. “She was hurting Hitoshi. She made him cry.”

“Did you mean it?” you ask lamely.

“To be people?” Eri frowns for a moment. “I must have. Or it wouldn’t have worked.”

“The embodiment thing doesn’t just happen,” Jin says. “They don’t just trip and fall – like, whoops, I’m embodied now! They have to want it.”

“They have to want it more than they want anything else,” Aizawa says. “More than they’ve ever wanted anything else in all their existence. It’s not something that happens often.”

“Which is a good thing,” Spinner puts in. “Because once you’ve got one, you’ve got it for life.”

So every ghost – former ghost – in the neighborhood had at least a split second where they wanted to be human. “If a ghost who was summoned unwillingly becomes human, their contract with the conjurer who summoned them is broken,” Aizawa says. “The conjurers often come back to exact punishment, and while a ghost in this world has significant power, most permanently embodied ghosts have roughly the same power as a human.”

“Papa’s strong,” Eri argues.

“I said ‘most’,” Aizawa reminds her. “When Eri’s conjurer came for her, Hizashi’s residual abilities allowed us to defeat him. But Hizashi’s conjurer, should he reappear, would pose a significant threat. Every family in this neighborhood is under a similar threat.”

“Which is why we’re all here,” Spinner says. “The ghost in your house is so strong that his presence hides the rest of us completely. If Atsuhiro’s conjurer or Himiko’s or Hizashi’s looked here for them, they wouldn’t be able to find them. All they’d see is your ghost.”

“That’s why we all want to meet him so bad,” Jin says. “He’s the boss! The baddest guy around! And we owe him, see? If not for him, they’d find us, easy.”

You look at their faces, Eri and Jin and Spinner. They all look pretty enthusiastic at the prospect of your ghost. Nothing like the way you feel when you think about him, some weird mix of gratefulness and comfort and confusion and fear. You look away from them, to Aizawa. He doesn’t look sad, exactly. Not resigned, either. But when he looks at you, you get the sense that he understands it. He’s been where you are, or somewhere like it, and suddenly you’re intensely grateful to Jin for bringing you here. You aren’t crazy for having mixed feelings about your ghost. Aizawa had them, maybe still has them, too.

“This information, while interesting, is ultimately irrelevant to you,” Aizawa says. You didn’t want to say it, but he’s right. “I imagine you’re more interested in how to handle your interactions with – Tomura, was it?”

You nod. “He hasn’t hurt me. I don’t think he wants to hurt me. But I don’t think he knows what he wants.”

“That’s likely. For all his power, he doesn’t seem to have much experience actually haunting anyone,” Aizawa says. “The fact that the house stood empty for so long suggests that he’s selective, and the actions he’s taken suggest that he has an interest in keeping you appeased. That gives you leverage.”

“You kind of need that,” Spinner says. “Like Aizawa said, they don’t get right and wrong like we do. Magne thought all kinds of shit was okay at first. It gets better if they’re embodied, but since yours isn’t gonna do that, you’ll have to explain a lot.”

“Frame the situation in terms of how the action you want the ghost to take will benefit the ghost,” Aizawa says. “For instance, if you want privacy, explain how respecting your privacy will increase your comfort in the house and make you more likely to stay there. Avoid asking him to do things.”

“Like asking him not to stare at me while I sleep?”

“No,” Aizawa says. “Avoid asking him to undertake tasks for you. The means he’ll use to achieve them will likely be unpleasant.”

You think of the coyote. All you needed was for it to leave, but Tomura basically tore its head off. “I don’t need him to do anything,” you say. “Just to leave me alone.”

“Sorry, sister. That’s not happening,” Jin says, and your heart sinks. “That house has been empty ever since we moved in. He’s been waiting for somebody to haunt this whole time, and he picked you. You’re his now. He told Himiko so.”

“Magne said she got the same vibe,” Spinner adds. “It’s not so bad, having a ghost. Think of it like having a really good roommate, or a best friend –”

“Or the coolest little sister ever,” Jin adds, grinning. “All the best people I know used to be dead!”

“I’m not dead! Take that back,” Eri protests. “I’m just your kind of alive now. And it’s the best kind of alive. There are flavors. And tastes –”

Spinner asks Eri what kind of tastes she likes best, and that sets all three of them off. You look back at Aizawa, who’s studying you with that same flat look in his eyes. “I don’t think mine wants a best friend,” you say.

“Mine didn’t,” Aizawa says. You wonder how he ended up married to his ghost, raising kids with his ghost. If that was really what he wanted. If he ever had a choice. “I don’t think so, either.”

When you head back to your house, it’s with an armful of books and a low, heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Phantom greets you cheerfully the instant you latch the gate behind you. You wonder how she got out when you know you left her inside, but the answer comes to you almost ahead of the question. Tomura must have let her out. He’s watched the whole process play out hundreds of times by now – Phantom going to the door, aiming sad looks your way, crying until you open it – and he did exactly what you do. You remember Aizawa’s admonition against asking Tomura to do things. You didn’t ask for this, and he did it anyway.

He materializes the instant you close the front door. “Where did you go? You were gone for hours.”

“I went to see the neighbors,” you say. His eyes flash. “To ask them about you.”

Now he looks confused. “Why didn’t you ask me about me?”

“Because you might lie, and I needed the truth.” You wait to see if Tomura will argue, but he doesn’t. “They had a lot to say.”

“What did they say about me?”

“They said you’re strong,” you say. Tomura goes from suspicious to proud of himself in about two seconds flat. “That’s why they moved here. You’re so strong that you can hide them from the people who summoned them.”

“It’s their fault they need to hide. They embodied themselves, like idiots.” Tomura at least sounds like he’s against permanent embodiment, which is a relief for you. “They can stay. I don’t care. As long as you stay.”

“I can stay,” you allow. You think of what Aizawa said and give one of his negotiating tactics a try. “I’ll be a lot more comfortable staying here if you give me some space.”

“Space,” Tomura repeats. “What kind of space?”

“When I’m in the bathroom. Humans like being alone in there,” you say. He nods. “And at night when I’m sleeping. We like to be alone then, too.”

“Not everybody,” Tomura argues. “In those movies –”

“I’m not going to watch any more movies if you keep getting dumb ideas from them.” You ignore the affronted sound Tomura makes. “Life isn’t like movies. I like to be alone when I’m sleeping.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Do you sleep?” You should have asked Aizawa about things like that.

“I don’t sleep. Sleeping is for humans,” Tomura says. You raise your eyebrows and he scowls. “It sounds nice when you sleep. I can’t hear it if I’m not in your room.”

“What sounds nice?” You’re not a sleep-talker, and nobody’s ever told you that you snore. “What kind of noises am I making? Are they weird?”

“I don’t know,” Tomura snaps. “I don’t know what noises humans are supposed to make when they’re sleeping. They don’t sound weird to me. They’re just – nice.”

You decide to set up your phone to record tonight, just to figure out what kind of sounds you’re making. And then you’ll buy a white-noise machine so this doesn’t happen again. This isn’t working. Maybe you need to try something else. “I’m not fun to hang out with when I’m sleeping,” you say. “Why don’t we hang out more when I’m awake and I can talk to you?”

His red eyes light up. Part of you wants to call his excitement childish, but you’ve felt that way as an adult. Aizawa says that ghosts materialize or embody or whatever you’re supposed to call it at the equivalent human age. Tomura’s an adult by ghost standards. You have to interact with him like one. “Well?”

“I need more life,” Tomura says. “I killed all your mushrooms in the front yard. Find me something else and I’ll – hang out with you. You are boring when you sleep.”

“I’ll find something,” you say. You can see that Tomura’s starting to fade, and you move to end the conversation before he can freak out again. “Thanks for letting Phantom out. I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon,” Tomura says. He doesn’t look happy, but he’s not angry. As long as he’s not throwing a fit, you’ll take it.

Once he’s faded completely, you take out your phone and text the newly formed group chat that has the numbers of every human in the neighborhood old enough to have a phone. Jin’s renamed it eight times already. Right now it’s “ghost friends anonymous”. You text it with a request: If you all catch bugs in your houses, bring them to my house. I need them.

So you can talk to him? Keigo texts back first. Wish I’d thought of that when it was me. No problem. Bug buffet coming right up.

Shinsou responds next. Can we leave them on your porch? Dad says not to go up there.

You’ve got my permission, you say, even though you and everybody else knows it’s not your permission that counts. And his, once I tell him what they’re for.

The cold spot settles around your shoulders and you startled badly. You’ve walked through Tomura by accident before, and he must not have liked it, either, because he stays out of your way when you’re on the move. But he’s here now, not sinking through you but wrapped around you. “Don’t,” you say aloud. “I’ll get a chill.”

Tomura stays there a moment longer, probably just to prove he can. Then he slips away, leaving you with the worst case of goosebumps you’ve ever had and a feeling you don’t like in the pit of your stomach. You’ve got a ghost in your house – fine. It’s not being a ghost that makes him an asshole.

Tomura’s an asshole, but he must want to hang out with you more than he wants to spy on you, because the bathroom’s empty except for you when you shower before bed. And for the first time in weeks, you fall asleep in an empty room.

Your bug idea works out pretty well. Every day you find at least five or six jars on your porch with holes drilled into the lids and spiders or ants or wasps rattling around inside, trying to escape. Two jars of bugs buys Tomura five minutes of complete materialization, but he’s starting to get smart about things, only materializing what he needs for a given interaction. A pair of hands to throw the ball for Phantom. His head and shoulders when he’s talking to you. His whole body, barely visible, when the neighbors come over to the house to drop off the day’s catch.

The first ones to come by are Jin and Himiko, and Himiko shrieks in excitement when she sees Tomura’s shadow on the front porch. “It’s you!” she squeals. “You’re so cute!”

“I’m not cute,” Tomura says, disgusted. Then he looks at you. “What’s cute?”

“Not you,” you say, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Even though he can’t breathe. It’s weird-looking for sure. “Jin, Himiko, this is Tomura. He’s, uh –”

“The boss!” Jin flashes a double thumbs-up. “The king of the neighborhood! Frankly, my dude, you terrify me.”

Jin’s mood switches stopped being weird to you a long time ago, but Tomura’s not used to him yet. “What’s wrong with it?” he mutters.

“Nothing’s wrong with him! Don’t make fun of my humans,” Himiko says. She smiles with her sharp teeth and ghost-blinks a few times. “I don’t make fun of your human. Even though she wears the same shirt three times a week.”

“It’s my favorite shirt,” you protest. “It’s comfy. And I wash it in between.”

“My human wears what it wants to wear,” Tomura says. You don’t have the heart to correct him on the pronouns.

And you don’t have to – somebody else does it for you, when Shinsou stops by with a bug delivery two afternoons later. He’s not alone, but it’s not Aizawa with him. It’s a blond man with a tiny mustache and bright green eyes, and he’s standing as far away from Shinsou as humanly possible without letting go of Shinsou’s hand. “I admire the ingenuity, but this is gross,” he says, projecting his voice ridiculously loud with seemingly no effort. Then he looks up at you and smiles. “Hey there. Shou’s told me all about you. The name’s Hizashi.”

“Aizawa told me about you, too.” You’ve met almost all the ghosts in the neighborhood already, but this is your first time seeing Hizashi, and something about him makes you nervous. Maybe it’s just what you know about his backstory, or maybe you’re worried he’s going to come up here and give Tomura ideas about things he can do with his human. “Tomura, this is Hizashi. He lives up the street.”

“I know who he is,” Tomura says. He’s more visible now than he was a second ago. “Back off. You’re scaring it.”

“It?” Hizashi repeats. “Most humans don’t go by ‘it’, friend. That’s a she. Your human’s a woman.”

“Huh?” Tomura looks at you, looks you up and down in a way that makes you really uncomfortable. “How can you tell?”

“You could ask,” Hizashi says, unruffled. He turns his attention to Shinsou. “You’re sure you have to go up there? Spooky McScarface doesn’t look too friendly.”

“I don’t touch other people’s humans,” Tomura says. He studies Shinsou as Shinsou comes up to the porch and sets his jar down on the first step. “Which kind are you?”

“I’m a guy,” Shinsou says. Tomura keeps staring at him. “The opposite of a girl. Not a girl. Most humans are guys or girls. Men or women. I’m a guy. Your human’s a girl.”

“Whatever,” Tomura says. Shinsou sets down the bugs and backs away toward the front gate. You’d elbow Tomura if he was embodied. When you elbow him anyway, your elbow goes numb from the cold. “I’m supposed to say thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Hizashi says. He yanks Shinsou back through the gate and hurries him up the street. “We’ll be back! Enjoy your worms.”

They’ve given you a lot of worms. “This is great,” you say. “Maybe we can get through a whole movie on these. What do you think?”

You glance at Tomura and find him mostly dematerialized, lost in thought. “You’re a girl,” he says. You nod. “What am I?”

“Whatever you want to be, I guess,” you say. “You look like a guy, though. Your voice sounds like a guy’s voice, and you don’t have – um –”

You gesture at your breasts, which is a mistake. Now he’s looking at them. “Would you rather be a girl?”

“No,” Tomura says decisively. “I don’t like girls that much.”

Tomura’s understanding of gender probably still has a couple of big holes in it, but you decide to steer off the topic for now and count yourself lucky that it wasn’t worse. It’s not until you’re trying to fall asleep in your still-empty room that you realize what Tomura actually said – that he doesn’t like girls enough to want to be one, not that he doesn’t like girls at all. You thought you were off the hook. It turns out your ghost is straight.

You text Aizawa in a fit of pique. Your husband taught my ghost how to like girls.

Your ghost already liked girls. Now he has words to explain it. Aizawa’s typing bubble appears, then vanishes. Trust me, it helps.

You’re not all that sure that it does, but after a week or so of normal behavior from Tomura, you decide that it’s probably not a disaster. Whatever Hizashi told him, it’s not anywhere as bad as what Tomura’s getting out of the movies he watches with you.

You’ve been trying to be careful about what you show him, but you learn pretty quickly that he can get something weird out of whatever he watches. Tomura is shockingly observant, picking up on stuff that even you don’t notice, but he almost invariably draws the wrong conclusions about whatever he’s caught on to. That’s fine when you’re watching sci-fi. Not fine when you’re watching a romcom.

“No,” you say to Tomura for the fifth time. You feel like you’re talking to Phantom. “That’s not good. He shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Why not? He wants to protect her and she’s being stupid.”

You agree she’s being stupid, but – “He’s scaring her,” you say. Tomura blinks. He doesn’t blink like the embodied ghosts do. He blinks like a human does. “It’s scary for someone to grab you, or to block you in a corner and not let you leave. People who care about you don’t scare you.”

Tomura’s quiet for a little bit. You’re just picking up the remote to unpause the movie when he speaks again. “Do I scare you?”

“Right now? No.”

“So you’ve been scared of me before,” Tomura says. Sometimes you can get away with lying to him, but not right now. You keep quiet, and he takes it how you meant it. And he’s pissed. “Why would you be scared of me? I didn’t do anything to you. I helped you –”

“Humans are scared of things we don’t understand,” you say. Tomura studies you, scratching the side of his neck. He’s not materialized enough for it to show, which is good. You hate seeing the scrapes appear. “It’s normal.”

“The others say their humans weren’t ever scared of them.”

“Their humans were kids,” you say. “I’m not.”

You haven’t run your theory by Aizawa yet, but you’re still pretty sure you’re right. Jin, Shinsou, and Spinner were all kids when they met their ghosts, and their ghosts were there for them when nobody else was. You’ve heard the stories of how they met in bits and pieces, but you know Himiko protected Jin and Jin’s siblings from their abusive dad – and killed him to embody herself when he took it too far. Eri told you what she did to the foster sibling who hurt Shinsou. Spinner hasn’t told you how he met his ghost yet, but you feel like it’s probably something similar. They were all kids, and their ghosts were their best friends before they became human. They didn’t think about it any more than that.

You and Aizawa were older. You can’t speak to whatever brought Aizawa to Hizashi’s attention, but you went out of your way to make sure your house wasn’t haunted and wound up with a seriously haunted house anyway. When Tomura killed the coyote to protect you and Phantom, you were grateful, and you said so – but your next thought was about how easily that same violence could be turned against you. You’re an adult. You don’t trust easily. Of course you’re wary of the insanely powerful ghost in your house. Who wouldn’t be?

Tomura’s still studying you. “How do I make you – not?”

“You can’t make me do anything,” you say. Tomura rolls his eyes. “Don’t do that. You asked.”

“And you didn’t answer. How do I make you stop being scared of me?”

“You can’t,” you say, which is probably the stupidest answer you’ve given to any question ever, even if it’s true. “Why do you want me not to be scared of you? You’re supposed to be haunting me. Don’t you want to act like a ghost?”

Tomura vanishes, which is about as close to a fuck-you as it gets. You resign yourself to a rough night and settle in for the rest of the movie. In retrospect, daring your ghost to actually haunt you was a really bad idea.

You haven’t shown Tomura any horror movies, but you watched a few before you knew he was watching them with you, and over the next few hours, he pulls every trick he must have seen in them. The lights flicker. The house fills itself with weird sounds, creaks and screeches and moans, and the hallways warp before your eyes as you try to walk through them. If you had to guess, you’d say Tomura wants you to beg him to stop, but you’re not going to do that. You brush your teeth, ignoring the way the water from the faucet runs read and the creepy shadow behind the shower door. You check your closet, ignoring the pair of feet very obviously sticking out below the racks of clothes, and pick up your feet to avoid the hands that grasp at your ankles as you try to get into bed. Then your bed starts to rattle, like he’s grabbed it by the post and started shaking it around.

And that, of all things, is what makes you lose patience. “You suck at haunting things.”

Tomura’s voice issues from beneath the bed. “Maybe you just suck at being haunted.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” You suck at all of this, and all the time you spend trying to solve your ghost problem has been sapping your focus at work. Mr. Yagi’s nice about it, but he can’t be nice forever. “I didn’t ask for this. You did.”

Your bed rattles again, harder than before, then goes still. “No, I didn’t.”

“Don’t lie. I know how this works. A ghost as strong as you –”

“I wasn’t always strong.” A scratching sound emanates from beneath the bed. Not only is Tomura still down there, he’s materialized fully enough that you can hear him scratching his neck. Why would he waste that kind of energy? “I didn’t want to come here. Master made me. I couldn’t get back.”

Master – his conjurer. It must be. But Aizawa says that ghosts are strong or weak, that their powers don’t grow or increase, and all the former ghosts agree. If Tomura started out weak enough to be summoned unwillingly, how did he get strong enough to hide an entire neighborhood of former ghosts? “I don’t understand.”

“So I bet you’re extra scared now.”

Tomura’s voice is bitter, mocking. But you can still hear the scratching, and before you can think better of it, you sit up and slide off your bed. When you’re lying flat on the floor, you can see into the darkness beneath the bed and make out Tomura’s red eyes, his pale skin, the scraped-raw spots on the side of his neck. “Hey, don’t do that,” you say quietly, and he scoffs. “It looks like it hurts.”

“Things don’t hurt. There’s feelings or not-feelings. I don’t care either way.”

“If you don’t care either way, then stop,” you say. Tomura scoffs again. “I’ll prove it’s different. Hold your hand out.”

He holds out the hand he’s not scratching with, like an asshole, but maybe you can use that. If he’s still scratching, the contrast will be obvious. You reach for Tomura’s hand with both of yours and hold it still. Part of you is expecting your hands to sink through and meet in the middle, but Tomura’s hand is real enough to touch. His skin is rough and ice-cold.

Tomura stops scratching the instant your hands enclose his. You’re tempted to call attention to it and gloat over being right, but it feels like it would be the wrong thing to do. It’s banter, and this doesn’t feel like banter. It feels like something else. You don’t think too hard about what that something is.

Tomura’s not thinking about it, either, but that’s because Tomura’s an asshole. “It only feels different because your hands aren’t moving.”

“You want me to move my hands? Fine.” You turn Tomura’s hand over and run the pads of your fingers lightly over his palm, noting as you do that his palm is completely unlined. He doesn’t have fingerprints, either. You notice that when you trace the length of one of his fingers, and then the next, and the next after that. But if you ignore that, and you ignore the cold, Tomura’s hand is just a hand. You match your palm to his, then run your fingers down the length of his all at once. It’s just a hand. It could be anyone’s.

Tomura yanks his hand free of yours and vanishes for the second time tonight, leaving you sprawled out on the floor of your room, staring into the now-empty space under your bed. It occurs to you to be embarrassed, but this isn’t even close to the dumbest thing you’ve done because of the ghost in your house. You lay there for a second, wondering how long it’ll take for Tomura to get whatever stupid thing he’s doing out of his system, and then climb back up into bed.

Tomura’s sitting there, cross-legged, both hands up over his face. “What was that?” he asks. Usually when he asks you questions like that, it’s a demand, but it sounds different this time. “Why did you do that to me?”

“I was proving a point.” Were you, though? Suddenly you aren’t sure. “Get off my bed.”

“Never do that again,” Tomura says. His shoulders are rising and falling fast, like he’s breathing hard. “Never! I don’t want to feel like this!”

“Like what?” you ask, but now he’s fading – not dematerializing, fading. He’s run out of energy, and he won’t be back tonight, unless he changes his mind and decides you and Phantom are fair game as far as living batteries go. “Fine. You started this. Don’t play your stupid games with me anymore.

The lights flicker on, then off, then on again. You roll over, press your face into your pillow, and fall asleep.

[makima-s-most-smile]

Trigun Maximum 10.4

It is time…

Trigun Ultimate: 1.1, 1.2, 2.1, 2.2, 2.3, 2.4 Trigun Maximum: 1.1, 1.2, 2.1, 2.2, 3.1, 3.2, 4.1, 4.2, 5.1, 5.2, 6.1, 6.2, 7.1, 7.2, 8.1, 8.2, 8.3, 9.1, 9.2, 10.1, 10.2, 10.3, 10.4, 10.5

07: Wolfwood

Farewell, my friend. 

Fitting, that we do not see Wolfwood here, but little Nicholas. Because in the end even though he was aged up and tortured, this child remained in him. This is his true self. The lost little boy that felt himself as a burden to all and that shouldered the responsibility of the wellbeing of the place he loved most. The lost little boy that cared too much in a world that cares too little. The morals of this little kid made Wolfwood the man he is today, through all the torture and everything, they persevered. This is the best of humanity.

Wolfwood has been an awkward idiot even in childhood. He cannot deal with open affection and becomes shy. It is sad and cute at the same time.

Is that a young Chapel? How much did he age in those six years? Damn!

The tricks the cult used to get children. It was a trap and it got Wolfwood. He left to become a tradesman… And a tradesman he did become, just not the kind of tradesman everyone imagined. Wolfwood was a great brother to many and they loved him.

Even if confetti is selfmade, we know they didn't have much ressources there. It surely was not cheap to produce it, even if it was selfmade.

How old does Wolfwood look there, maybe 10? Maybe even younger. The timeline is really not something we should look to close up. Nightow went by vibes, that’s all we need to know.

Like I said so often, the orphanage is Wolfwood’s paradise. The place where he was fed, could sleep and felt safe. He didn’t require anything more and that says much about his living situation beforehand. Much like Rem for Vash, it is an ideal for Wolfwood, a perfect place, something that has to be protected from the reality of the world. This ideal has been his saving grace. It made him survive not only Chapel and the torture, but it gave him reason to go on when his guilt became too much. If Wolfwood is truly devoted to something, it is this.

Wolfwood’s sorrowful eyes… He looks younger here. And softer. The softest Wolfwood we have ever seen. Close behind the Wolfwood that let down his guard the night before he brought Vash to the ark and they relaxed a last time together.

Even after all he did and all he accomplished, Wolfwood feels undeserving for any forgiveness or any welcome. If Chapel has achieved anything then it is that Wolfwood truly has no self love. Wolfwood was hypercritical with himself before the cult got his clutches around him, but I have no doubt that the things he went through have worsened his self worth massively.

He wants to be kept in memory as the innocent, but responsible, big brother Nico and not the bloodied gunman he has become. He wants to keep their innocence and the illusion that somewhere their beloved big brother is still out there. He wants to protect them one last time, this time from the grief that comes with his death.

But, Wolfwood is a complex character. If the kiddos knew, would they really go away that easily? Wouldn’t they try to make him come with them? Being either forced to watch Wolfwood die on the way to Home or having to see Wolfwood breaking down, because he cannot keep up the masquerade anymore. He cannot be vulnerable, especially not in his last moments.

I wish we would get more info, does Wolfwood chose to stay because he knows he would not get to the main ship for help/he knows that his body breaking apart is not treatable or has he ‘just’ given up. I think it is the first, I just wish for some hard facts. But neither of the two lovely calamities left are really able to talk directly about the elephant in the room. Vash is so desperate.

By not addressing that Wolfwood is actively dying, by trying to push Wolfwood to leave with the others, they both avoid one thing… The helplessness. This is Wolfwood’s choice, so it is okay, so it is bearable.

There is one really big headcannon that I have for the case that either Wolfwood decided to stay there even though there may have been a possibility to save Wolfwood or that Vash may have been able to heal Wolfwood with or without a cost of his lifespan, but Wolfwood denied either of it. And it boils down back to agency. Vash is so much about having none/giving others the full agency, that he cannot force Wolfwood to do something he either doesn’t have the energy to or doesn’t want to due to the cost. Not only is that one of Vash’ biggest modus operandi, reacting instead of acting, but here it is something more. It is about Wolfwood’s agency. By now it is absolutely clear that the only true choice Wolfwood had in his life was to die for the things he loved or lose himself. Vash cannot rob Wolfwood of his agency. Not when he finally regained some in his last moments. (That said, I do not judge any peeps who use Vash overriding Wolfwood’s wants and healing him or bringing him to safety. One of my most favourite breaks-my-heart-art piece is the one where Wolfwood awakes with golden hair on the couch, because Vash has given him all his life. And Vash sits lifeless next to him. I have so many feels about that one.(by popular request a link to the pic, damn had I dive deep into my bookmarks))

Neither of them really talk to each other. But from what they know of each other, it says more than words. Wolfwood, stressing that he is a gun-ho-gun, a killer, an assassin and a traitor to Vash, even seemingly proving it with the coins, Wolfwood wants to keep Vash from grieving. Vash does not need to grieve for Wolfwood. Wolfwood is a shitty person. There is no last-minute discussion to be made about it. Vash accepts the plea behind it. He disagrees with Wolfwood. But he helps Wolfwood to keep the illusion up that they aren’t that close, that Wolfwood doesn’t need to feel sorrow for leaving Vash, because their connection is not real. They both comfort each other by not talking about it.

Personally, I am so sad, that even in his death, Wolfwood is all about others, about lessening the pain that comes with it, that he cannot be vulnerable and just grieve his future. I am sad for Vash, too, but Vash will live on, for the better and worse.

That’s… Wolfwood had no goals for himself. He has always been the protector. He never imagined a future beyond that. He had his purpose and that has been fulfilled. Not completely, since Knives is still there, but he has done all he could. He has done what a human could do. And I understand that Wolfwood cannot regret his decision. It is too intrinsically intertwined with his identity and self-perception.

And again, Wolfwood cannot bear vulnerability. Neither can Vash. Which ends in this silly exchange. But, truly, if Vash didn’t react that way, I believe both would have broken down.

The last time? The last time was when Vash got drunk in the bar with the two outsiders and Wolfwood was persuaded by the nice granny to let his guard down and drink a glass, too. It was the talk where One-Eye stressed that “you’ll always end up alone and be alone.” Damn…

Birbs. Nicholas can finally enjoy his freedom. For a moment at least. For a moment he is free like a bird. The struggle is over. He is already dead. There is nothing to fight for him anymore.

It confused me. This sentence at the moment. Two possible interpretations for me: 1. Wolfwood still tries to fake more distance between them to make it hurt less and/or 2. Wolfwood truly wishes for a future for Vash in which he can smile with a full heart.

But even Wolfwood cannot hold the soft feelings in. Not all of Vash’ smiles were empty. Many smiles that Wolfwood saw and/or caused were real ones. I read this as Wolfwood trying to tell Vash that he knows that he was someone important to Vash. And now Vash cannot bear it. Because he is about to lose Wolfwood forever. 

(What ruins the mood a bit for me is that I cannot not laugh at the funky pose of Wolfwood. He really was like: I am a twister!)

This is the first time I saw Brad in the background. He must think they are all crazy! He doesn’t know.

Wolfwood always had a home. They love him. They accept him as he is. They know that the bloodied man is their beloved big brother. Wolfwood can pass with the knowledge that he is accepted into paradise with bloodied hands and all.

Wolfwood cries. The man that so stoically had been in control of himself, that has been so incredibly avoidant of even an ounce of vulnerability, cries openly. Most likely for the first time in years. We have never seen him cry in the manga, we have seen him in shock, in despair, we have seen him shout out in pain, but he never cried.

And with that realisation… I cannot say how to interpret this scene. Comes the realisation of this love with a wave of grief because he cannot be with them, that he has no future to enjoy together, that he loves them and cannot tell them? Is it a last surge against the inevitable? A cry for mercy to the absent God? Does he wish to stay with Vash and his family?

And his bell tolls. Wolfwood has died.

I do not believe that Wolfwood would regret his choice. He fulfilled his life goal. He may regret leaving Vash, he may regret not having had a future or more time. But the one thing he can be sure of is that Vash will take over his burden and fight for their future. They are not defenseless. He can rest. For me, the smile does not mean he died happy or without any regrets. But he died not alone. And that is enough for him.

And Vash stays, again. Vash avoided any real connection to humans. Even those he called his family always felt artificial for me. Wolfwood was the first human since Rem that got under Vash' walls and got into his heart. And I truly believe that other than with Rem, with Wolfwood Vash sometimes wasn't aware of the for Vash so obvious difference between plants and humans.

Wolfwood’s death… My feelings are divided and are all over the place. It is handled with such care and the consequences of his death are felt so deeply through the narrative, to which I say more in a later volume. He wasn’t alone, he was with his best friend. He didn’t die in a fight, but out of it at a place he could choose. And even better, he got a very clear message that his family loves him, even if he cannot do it himself. It is one of the most peaceful deaths imaginable for this pained soul.

But at the same time, it is so unfair! Wolfwood sacrificed his whole life for the safety of innocents, he bloodied his hands again and again and endured so much and all he got was a death that wasn’t the worst. He got the knowledge that he is welcome home. He gets the knowledge that his loved ones are safe for now and that his friend will try his best to keep it that way. But he never gets to experience it truly. He never gets to enjoy the fruits of his labour. He didn’t want much. He didn’t even really dream of anything. But if he could have a place to rest, to eat and to be safe, he wouldn’t want more. 

I think part of my reaction stems from me being from an individualistic society. We learn that you put the work in and receive your reward, that selfless behaviour gains you a reward. Look no further than the fairy tales that are used to teach Europeans like me morals, The Star Money is one that fits this idea. But Wolfwood as a person did not get a personal, selfish reward. He got death. And that makes it so painful. His death wasn’t for nothing, but his life feels so cut short. He just started the path of forgiving himself. He just realised that he wasn’t alone anymore. His development was not at an end. But what Nightow wanted to say with him in the story was. The difference between the narrative and the character. And that is upsetting, while still being completely okay.

Taking in consideration that Nightow comes from a collectivist society, I feel that the outcome that Wolfwood was able to save his home, his group, even at the cost of his life, is meaningful in a way I may not completely get. Wolfwood will live on, in the actions and life of the people he saved, he will live on in Livio, he will live on in Vash. But I see the abused kid that could not be saved. The abused kid that protected others because he wasn’t protected. That is the tragedy for me. 

Maybe, adding to that, on a personal note, I am a Millennial. The world that was promised to me was built up on lies and is crumbling under the greed of a few people. But media says it is my generation's fault for *looks at today’s paper* eating avocado instead of diamonds. Parents being absent due to work, being alone and self reliant, maybe the oldest kid that has to take care of the siblings instead of the parents, those things were more a normal state than a rare occurrence, when I was young. With the wars, the crash from ‘08 and the shit that came after it, the existential dread is real and the hopelessness, too. I can only try to lessen the impact for the people who come after me and try my best to endure. And Wolfwood’s whole character vibes with my experience. And on this personal note, that the character who cared so much and tried so hard could not be saved… I want hope. I need hope. In this day and age more than ever.

08: Final Parting

What’s more to say? It is final. In spite of all of his powers, Vash was unable to save Wolfwood’s life, even though he was able to protect Wolfwood’s treasure and was a big part of Wolfwood freeing himself out of the cage that Chapel put him in. It’s just so damn tragic that after all he has been through, his freedom lies in the way he was able to part.

The denial, the looming panic and then Vash laying out the facts, short, precisely and with a deadpan face. This scene is just so... It hurts. Wolfwood's death is final. It drives it home.

There is not a small part in Vash that may despise Livio right now. It won’t keep. From Vash’ perspective, Wolfwood entrusted Livio and the whole orphanage to him, the future as a whole, but especially the future of his loved ones. 

Razlo has been a brat, but Livio seems also extremely young. I do not think he ever truly believed Wolfwood would truly die and only now he starts to understand how much Wolfwood sacrificed to get Livio out of Chapel’s claws.

Vash not only protected Wolfwood’s body and Livio’s life, he protected the whole orphanage. Vash protected Wolfwood’s paradise from Knives’ laser.

And by reflecting Knives’ power back to their source, Vash declares war.

How does Knives do it? He is further and further gone the longer the story goes. 

But not only that, what must that mean to Knives? His brother uses his so important lifeforce to not only spite Knives, he does it for the human Knives has sent out to betray Vash. This human has been somehow able to become more important to Vash than not only his life, but also his brother. A massive middle finger right in his face. And the worst part of it, Wolfwood is already dead. He cannot even take revenge upon him. Remember the two-face panel of Knives when he cause the fall? He drew blood with his thumbs over the left side of his face, the first panel here resembles this from the pose. Kinda as if Knives does his last step to complete and utter madness.

We know that Wolfwood came from a place of scarcity. Food is his love language or one of them. So it's fitting that both of the boys have memories with Wolfwood regarding this. Not only that, the memories shown are either the first meeting or the start of their journey together. Vash makes the food that Rem has made him and food that reminds him of Wolfwood. 

I learned that food can be an important part of grief. You need to keep yourself fed and grief can be easily so overpowering that you cannot do it. But they must keep going on. So they eat.

The fucking third vial! You were a red herring for Wolfwood’s survival, a false counter. I despise you!

And this is a peace offering from Vash. I still believe that Vash is incredibly angry, but he understands why Livio was in that place. Remember Wolfwood, remember the man that was everything to me and that gave everything for you.

Wolfwood’s burden made him the man he was. It is just a fact.

And now it is Vash' burden. Vash takes over for Wolfwood and keeps going where Wolfwood couldn't. What a sad situation. When the only thing that binds you to your lost friend is the burden that he carried and that killed him in the end.

[apprenticestanheight]

Apple Picking - Eggsy Unwin x reader

all right! I decided on a random monday night a couple of days too late that I was going to challenge myself to write and publish one fic for each week of October. Had I thought of the idea earlier this one would've come out on the 6th, but I thought of it when writing this last night so it's coming out today instead.

The goal with this event is to write for characters and pairings I don't write for often and like my account to a certain extent, this event is multifandom! Eggsy Unwin is kicking it off because I love him wholeheartedly and don't write for him as often as I should.

This fic was written while I was listening to the Boygenius song Leonard Cohen and directly uses the lyric 'I never thought you'd happen to me' twice because I love Boygenius and I couldn't help myself.

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- none

There was not a day that surpassed the both of you wherein Eggsy Unwin did not second guess himself. He wondered why, out of all of the people you could've chosen, you chose him.

You were the best person Eggsy could've met in the beginnings of his career as a Kingsman. You liked to read, you loved to write, you didn't hate dogs and you loved the autumn.

Eggsy had met you while waiting for Harry at a coffee place. You'd bumped into him while taking an idle step backwards, you'd chatted in line, he'd made you laugh, and you'd exchanged numbers and then it was like that was it. He was in your life, you were in his, and things would probably stay that way.

Still, four years later, you were thirty-two and had been sharing an apartment since just a bit before Eggsys 30th birthday. It was near the Kingsman tailors and near where you worked, so it was a good fit.

He was grinning to himself as he parked his car into one of the two parking spots that was included in the rent, Harry on the phone with him as he talked animatedly about plans you'd made for the upcoming and extremely rare weekend Eggsy had off.

As Eggsy turned the car off, he took Harry off speaker, pressing the phone to his ear. He opened the door just enough to hear the sound of rain and pocketed his car keys.

"Yeah! It's gonna be great--late morning, we're going to order in, I think? Once that's done with we're going to take JB and we're going to go apple picking. They do it with JB every season so that they can use the apples for apple butter, but I have the weekend off so we're turning it into a staycation type thing."

"Staycation?" Harry asked as Eggsy ran from his parking spot to the front door of the flat complex, barely dodging the rain in the process. "The closest apple picking place is three hours out of the city. That's not staying in."

"Close enough, innit?" Eggsy said, swiping the fob and grinning as he approached the elevator. The thought of seeing you had turned the exhaustion he felt into something more content, something happy.

"I suppose," Harry said as Eggsy pressed the button. The doors promptly opened and in Eggsy stepped, pressing the button for your floor and shaking his head as though to focus. "Are you staying at a hotel?"

"Only decent one we could find doesn't allow pets," Eggsy said. "We're going to drive thirty minutes back around so that he can stay at a pet hotel, I think. Bit of extra work, but he'll be happy with the hordes of attention he'll get. I'll be happy because--it's not like opportunities like this come often."

Despite the fact that he couldn't see him, Eggsy knew that the expression Harry wore was a sad smile on the other end of the phone line.

"Have you proposed yet?"

"I'm working on it," Eggsy said as the elevator doors opened. He stepped into the hallway and approached your door, grabbing his keys from his pocket. "Just bought the ring yesterday. The secret of it might bloody well eat me alive, Harry."

Harry laughed halfheartedly. "You have a good night, Eggsy."

"You too, mate," and the call was done.

Eggsy put his key into the lock and turned, sighing with relief and pressing his head against the door as it opened slightly. It didn't take him long to hear the sound of JBs claws scraping against the floor and your gentle discipline, telling him to wait until Eggsy had gotten a foot through the door to bide for his attention.

Eggsy laughed and proceeded inward, heart heavy with how happy he felt.

-

A day later, it was six, you'd just ordered McDonalds to your hotel room and the hotel mini fridge was full of ten pounds of apples from the time you and Eggsy had spent picking them while JB found his soulmate in a pug owned by a couple in their sixties.

Eggsy had just gotten out of the shower where you'd showered beforehand, and you were sitting in the chair that had been placed by the window, using it for what seemed to be it's purpose as you read something.

Eggsy said nothing, leaning slightly against the door frame in his Kingsman sweatpants and a baggier shirt that smelled a little like you, indicating you'd stolen it in recent, then washed it and sprayed it with some of the scent you liked before placing it in one of the clean clothes baskets that Eggsy would later sort and fold.

You were reading a book, and Eggsy was looking at you, and it just--everything kind of just hit him.

He'd bought the ring. He could've proposed to you right then if it really, truly seemed like the right time as he always kept it in one of his pockets. He could've proposed at the apple orchard but it just didn't seem like the right time then.

All that Eggsy could think of was that first time you'd met in the coffeeshop. You'd bumped into him while taking a step back, and you'd chatted, and he'd made you laugh and it felt like it was perfect.

Four years gone, four of the best years he'd experienced, and he found himself leaning against a bathroom door frame and looking at you, and it just--woah.

"This is going to seem so random," he said, one hand idly going to his pocket, where he'd slipped the ring out of what had managed to become a habit after only three days. "But it just--we've been together for four years now, and it's all kind of just hitting me."

You turned to look at him, grinning as your gaze met his.

"Yeah?" You asked. "What is it?"

"I never thought that--well--you see, I'm not really known for my smarts," Eggsy sighed. "Roxy and Merlin and Harry--and, well, everyone, realistically--would make a case for the fact that I don't really know much at all, but I do know that I know you."

You were looking at him like he was the love of your life. Eggsy knew that you were his without a doubt in his mind.

"I never thought that when you bumped into me, we'd find ourselves here. I never thought that I would be using one of the only weekends off I've gotten since I started working for the Kingsmen to propose to you in some hotel, but this where we are and I am so grateful for it."

You stood, approached him. Eggsy pulled the ring out of his pocket and presented it to you, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Harry, the guy who had a love for romantics somewhere deep down, was going to kill him for proposing in the hotel rather than at the orchard.

"I never thought you'd happen to me," Eggsy said. "Seriously. I didn't, and I don't know how I've managed to get so lucky but I am so happy I have."

"You realize that marrying me means your stuck with me forever, right?" You asked, pressing a quick peck to his lips. "Like, no escape. In sickness and in health, in every single moment where I choose to annoy you because it's funny, in every single time you come home from a mission at seven in the morning because the mission ran long or you got called in late, and discover I've made brownies or butter tarts or peanut butter cookies. You're stuck with me even then."

"I never thought you'd happen to me," Eggsy said again. "So yeah. I realize it means I'll be stuck with you when you annoy me and that it means I'll come home to brownies, or butter tarts, or peanut butter cookies. I realize it means I'll be stuck with you when we're both drunk and we can't stop laughing. In sickness and in health, Y/N. Sunny days, and the rainy ones, too."

Eggsy loved you so much and often found that it was impossible to put it into words.

"Will you marry me?" He asked.

"I'd be an idiot not to," you grinned.

Eggsy slipped the ring onto your finger and made a note to call Harry before the two of you went to bed as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, his around your waist, and the two of you hugged.

You couldn't believe your luck, and Eggsy couldn't believe his.

[ni-kiiiii]

Insecurities • Hwang Hyunjin

Listen to this song it will make you feel things

Tell me how you like the song

Pt.1 pt2

Angst, fluff

NOT PROOF READ (so ply don’t mind any mistakes)

Summary: You being best friends with hyunjin takes a unexpected turn

A/n: I had to rewrite the beginning about 2 time because tumblr didn’t draft it. Thank you guys for liking my frst story. I love you guys this song💗.

Enjoy.

——————————————————————————

You and Hyunjin were very close. You guy we’re friends since primary school. Hyunjin practically read you like a book but the only thing he couldn’t read was that you had a massive crush on him. You’ve grown a crush on him since middle school. His looks were one thing but his personality was another thing. His drama queen self grown on you.

Girls never liked him Because he was a baby face but that changed in the last year of high school. First it started with the whisper when he walked pass in the halls then the giving him chocolates and gifts, to being all over him. The worst part was Hyunjin liked it. All these girls got in the middle between you and Hyunjin’ relationship together. You guys slowly fell apart. You never saw him as much as you used to. You didn’t go to his house to have sleep overs.

You came to the conclusion that you were the problem. You thought that you were ugly and fat since hyunjin only talks to girls that are skinny and pretty. You started starving yourself and it felt good to you. You always body checked and weighed yourself. This cycle went on and on for about 2 months. No one noticed because you were invisible when you were next to Hyunjin and it didn’t help that your were a introvert.

—

One day you got a text from hyunjin asking you if you want to stay over for a day. You fastly replied and said ok. You got up from your couch and went to your room to get packed. You packed your sleeping clothes which were shorts and a bland shirt. Before you knew it you in the car and drive to his apartment complex.

- time skip

When you were walking to the elevator you spotted these girls behind you so when you were in the elevator you held the door for them. While they were walking in the elevator you made a mental note they were hyunjin type. There were pretty and skinny. When they got in the elevator you made eye contact with one of them but quickly look away.“ what floor” you saw low but low enough for them to hear. “27” one of the girls said with a attitude. ‘There pretty for no reason’ you thought. You weren't even gonna press the button for them but only reason you did was because that was hyunjin floor.

When the elevator finally stopped you ran to his apartment and banged on the door so he could quickly open the door you didn't have to see those girls. When He opened the door you ran in only to see his 7 friends( Jisung, Jeongin, Seungm, Bangchan, Felix, Minho, Changbin). You were embarrassed that you ran in liked that but you quickly said hello and went to the bathroom.

You turned on the sink and got changed to your shorts and long sleeved shorts and walked out the bathroom.

When you opened the door you saw Those girls again. ‘ FUCK MY LIFE’ you screamed in your head.This time you counted and it was 8 of them. They stared at you with disgust. ‘ they must be here for each friend’ you thought.

-

You had no choice but to sit on the floor since the couch was filled up with people. Everyone was talking except you because you didn’t know what they were talking about since you were in the bathroom.

Until one of the girls said “ let’s introduce the new people later for example me then after then play a game after”. You were panicking because you hate speaking out loud and Hyunjin knew that so when he heard what the girl said he looked straight at you. You looked at him but with deadpanned eye because you were upset with him. He squinted as to why you looked at him like that. He sensed that you upset but chose not to bring it up in front of everyone one

The girl spoke up again “ how about you” pointing to me.

‘Out of the 17 of us in the room why did she pick me’ you thought.

“Me?” You said

“Of course who else would I be pointing too Casper the ghost” she said. This one sentence had everyone in the room dying laughing. You didn’t know why everyone was laughing especially Hyunjin, what she said wasn’t even funny.

When the giggles started to dye you said “ im y/n, what about you”

She laughed “ you don’t know who I am I’m Hyunjins best friend, Sohee”

‘BEST FRIEND?, ‘How the hell is she your best friend and you just met her” You thought.

“Oh I didn’t know you guys were even friends” you said.

“Well now you know” she said rudely

You didn’t dare making eye contact with Hyunjin because you were fuming with him right now.

“ that’s Jennifer, Kiko, Blessing, Mina, Star, Valerie, and Lana” said Sohee, pointing to 7 girls.

‘I’m guessing she’s definitely the leader of this group since she talked for ALL 7 of them’ you noted

“ ok now that we introduced ourselves let’s play 7 minutes in heaven ” everyone cheered except for you.

“Let’s sit on floor then” Felix suggested.

“ I’m not playing ” you said while going to sit on the couch since everyone was getting up to go to to the floor.

“ ok that’s fine no one wanted to kiss you anyway” Sohee said.

Everyone turned to you then turned around except he looked at you with sorry eyes. But you just wondered why he didn’t say anything.

You stayed quiet because you agreed with what she said.

“ I’ll go first” Sohee said excitedly

She spun the bottle and it landed on Hyunjin.‘Of course it landed on him’ you thought.

Sohee was grinning so hard while looking at Hyunjin like she was gonna eat him alive.

Everyone filled the room with oh’s and oo’s everyone shipped them together. They had been waiting for this moment.At this point you wanted to disappear in thin air. You didn’t want to be here.

“ Doesn’t someone have to pstand outside to count or have a timer” Valerie said.Oh yeah, y/n should do it since she already has her phone” Sohee said.

Everyone agreed so couldn’t say no you were too scared.

Hyunjin didn’t say a word this whole time he was speechless but he couldn’t say no that make him look like a wuss so he said, “ come on Sohee.” Hyunjin got up and put his hand out so she could take it. She soon got up and they began walking to a closet by the main door. You were trailing behind them since you had to do “your job”.

As soon as they went in the closet you started the timer.

-7 minutes- in you heard heavy breathing which deeply disgusted you. Deep down you wanted to cry. You were literally hearing your crush kiss someone else that wasn’t you.

6 minutes- you heard things falling down in the closet.

5 minutes- you heard tiny moans coming from Sohee and groans coming from Hyunjin.

30 seconds- you hear the same things that they doing 5 minutes ago. Then it all came to a stop. ‘I’m never eating again and I’m never talking to Hyunjin again’ 0 seconds- banged on the door to let them know that there time was done.

-

When they open the door their hair and clothes was very messy. You looked at Hyunjin who was already looking at you. You then looked down to look at his very pink lips. When you saw that you looked down at the floor and quickly went to the bathroom.

You turned on the sink and immediately started crying. You took about a long time in the bathroom and Hyunjin noticed.

“ everyone I’m going to get changed, just find a movie to put and order pizza” Hyunjin said.Hyunjin did actually change his clothes. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a plain white shirt.

At this point Hyunjin wanted to talked to he scratch that he needed to talk to you. He texted

-open the door

-I need to talk to you.

At first you weren’t going the door but gave in because you wanted to pour how you felt to him.

When you opened the door Hyunjin practically barged in. He quickly came in the bathroom and closed the door. He looked at with very sorry eyes.

“Y/n what’s up with you?” Hyunjin sighed

“ what’s up with me?”You scoff

Hyunjin was looking like what did he do wrong.

“ Hyunjin, you literally ditched me the second you got so called famous. You never spend time with me anymore. Shit you didn’t even stand up for me when your so called aka bitchy best friend. You never look my way when a pretty skinny girl is near you What am I to ugly and fat for you” you say having tears in your eyes.

Hyunjin looked you with teary eyes too. He pulled you into a tight hug. You guys were a crying mess, you were sobbing in his chest.

You pulled away and Hyunjin was confused why.

“Explain yourself,” you sigh

“ I was so caught with being popular and being with the girls I completely forgot about you. Y/N I am so sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you. Trust me if I knew I was hurting you I would have talked to you. Y/n you are very important to me and the only reason I didn’t stand up for for Sohee is because she likes starts to rumors. She would have started rumor about you and I didn’t want you to go through that” he says softly.

“ ok let’s go before they start to ask were are you.” You chuckle as you ruffle his hair.

Y’all leave the bathroom and walk into the living.

The pizza was already there but you weren’t gonna eat it. You sat on the floor next to the pizza that was on the table in front of the couch. While everyone one was stuffing their faces with pizza. You on the hand sat quietly watching the movie on the screen.

“Aren’t you gonna eat” bangchan said

“ no I’m not hungry I ate before I got here, thank you though” you say.

“ Or she doesn’t what to get even fatter than she is like a pig” Sohee says.

(I wanted to write you beating her ass but that didn't fit this theme lol)

You look at her with disgusted eyes.

Everyone looks at her with that are you crazy look. “Sohee why would you say that” Felix said

“ what I’m just speaking facts” she scoffed.

“ I think it’s time for bed guys, I’ll bring the blankets and sheets” Hyunjin said.

“Y/N would you care to help me” Hyunjin said sweetly.

You nodded and followed him to him to his room.When you guys got to his room he closed the door.

“ look y/n when everyone is sleeping come with in my bed” Hyunjin said while getting the blankets,pillows and sheets.

“ why” you ask shyly.

“ do you not want to sleep with me” he says with his voice sounding slightly disappointed.

“ not it’s not that I just want to know why” you say assuring him that was not the case.

“ I just want to spend alone time with you that’s all” Hyunjin mumbles loud enough for you can hear him.

You were flustered but you decided not to show it and just smiled softly.

“Come on let’s go” Hyunjin quickly says. As he placed the blankets in your hands.

You nodded and followed Hyunjin out door and to the living room. You guys placed the blankets, sheets, and pillows on the couch.

Everyone chipped and and put the blankets, sheets , and pillows on the floor layer on it.

Everything was going fine until the seat arrangements came. Hyunjin wanted to sit next to me but that bitch Sohee followed him. Hyunjin was basically sandwich between me and Sohee.

When everyone was settled down they continued watching the movie, a horror one too. Sohee was hugging all up on Hyunjin. That Annoying the shit out of him. “ Sohee it to hot for you to be on me like that don’t you think” he said with a annoyed tone.

“ I think your right” she got off of him and continued watching the movie.

- time skip

Everyone was sound asleep except for you and Hyunjin.

Hyunjin-“Go first y/n”

Y/n- “kk”

You went his dim lighted room and waited for him. Which took to long so you just went under the cover and laid down.

When Hyunjin finally came in the room he quickly said, “ I’m sorry I’m late, Sohee suddenly woke to ask me where I’m going” he said quickly. He got in the bed and went under the covers. He faced youand just stared.

He suddenly said “ did you lose some weight or something”

You froze you didn’t know what to say. You close your eyes and figure out what to say.

“ I just haven’t been hungry these days” you say letting the lie roll of your tongue.

“ your lying, I know you very well you love food” he said.

You contemplate if you should tell the truth in head. You finally came up with decision to tell the truth.

Y/n- “its you”

Hyunjin- “what do you mean”

Y/n- “you were always with skinny girls and you never paid attention to me so I would just not eat.”

Hyunjin pulled you into a tight hug and “ y/n, baby you don’t need to starve yourself to get my attention, besides your not even fat and your not ugly either. Your beautiful inside and out so you don’t have nothing to worry about.” Hyunjin assured you.

“ the truth is I liked for a long time now and I just used those girl to get you off of my mind” he say quickly.

“ really??” You say surprises

“Yes really” Hyunjin laughs.

“ I like you too, now let’s cuddle” you said very flustered.

Hyunjin wraps his leg over you and you fell asleep like babies.

——————————————————————————

A/n: Hopefully u enjoyed this story.

Sorry if this poorly written. I had to rush to be able to do things.

I might do a part 2…

[sissytobitch10seconds]

It's Only Sex

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone Summary: Kaz has learned a lot about himself since he got into a relationship with five of his closest friends. It seems that the learning isn't quite over because his brain is currently trying to kill him with how hard it's chewing on this specific issue. Even Inej seems to have gotten through her issues to have physical intimacy with their partners, so why can't he? Warnings: Mentions of sex, implied traumatic childhood experiences, and internalized acephobia Word Count: 6,018 Ship(s): Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa/Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck/Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik

Archive link!

A/N: So not only is this fic based off of the song "It's Only Sex" by Carseat Headrest, but it's also based off my own feelings when I discovered that I was asexual and then later when I realized that I was aromantic. I did stuff because I thought that I needed to do it and not because I actually had a desire for it. It's a bit of projection onto Kaz, but hey! That's what fanfiction is all about, baby. I hope that you all enjoy! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Kaz woke early on Thursday and Tuesdays because that was when his eight AM class was. He didn’t know who had assured him it would be a good idea to schedule something so important that early in the morning when he had to take public transport from his apartment across town, but he was beginning to resent them more and more with each week. He knew that the only reason he hadn’t dropped and rescheduled the class at a more convenient time was because he enjoyed the subject immensely. Nothing had ever made more sense to him in his entire life than numbers and complex mathematics.

The first thing that he was aware of on those fateful days was his phone alarm blaring at him so that he woke up and got ready for the day without too much rushing about.

He grabbed the device and slid his gloveless fingers across the screen until it finally registered what he was trying to do and turned the infernal music off. He then collapsed back down on his bed, one arm over his eyes and the other still clutching his phone as it slipped down into the space between his mattress and nightstand. His leg ached from the walking that he had done on his date with Jesper the night before. It was to be expected, he always had a flare up when he did something that wasn’t quite as kind to his body as it should have been. It didn’t make it any easier to deal with, not when he was already doing something that he was apathetic about at best.

He placed his phoned down on his nightstand and then forced himself into a sitting position. His knee creaked obnoxiously and sent a spike of electric-hot pain up and down his leg to his ankle and hip. He pushed through the pain as he had done so many times before, standing as he limped over to his dresser. He pulled out the clothing that he was going to wear for the day and held it under his arm so that he could get to the bathroom.

The one thing about having to get up around six in the morning two days a week was that he got the bathroom to himself. They had managed to find a place that had enough bedrooms to service them all, but there were only two bathrooms. Three of them shared the ‘master suite’ bathroom and the other three had to make due with the smaller one that also serviced guests. Kaz usually had to go last because Inej and Jesper both had complicated hair routines that they did every morning and night. When he woke up early for his class, though, he was permitted to have a bit more hot water and time to get himself ready.

Stepping into the bathtub was always the most difficult part of his morning routine, even more than exercising the aching of his knee. Despite all of the work that he had been doing with his therapist and on his own, despite the fact that he had years between him and the trauma that had given him the slightly irrational fear, it was still difficult. His partners had tried desperately to find something big enough for all of them that also lacked the bathtub that would hurt Kaz so much, but it was nearly impossible. He had learned to live with it and was getting better as time went on, especially after Inej put the flower stickers along the bottom for extra grip.

Today it seamed easier, somehow. He shed his clothing into the closed top hamper and then stepped into the stream of water before it had fully heated up. The droplets pelted his back and front until he was completely soaked. He could feel the edges of the flowers digging into the soles of his feet and the slickness of the bathtub in between them instead of the ankle-deep water that plagued his unconscious mind with untold nightmares. He focused on the feeling of the shampoo in his hair and the way that the sides were growing out again.

He was going to have to ask Nina to cut it for him when she got back from her classes at the technical college. She told him over and over again that she hated his haircut, but she was also the only person that she would allow to cut his hair. It was one of the more perplexing things about his girlfriend, but also one of the things that he loved most about her. She would tease him until she was blue in the face but she also treasured him like he was something special and precious.

Kaz finished with his shower before any of the others began to worry about the water running too long. It was annoying to have someone come knock on the door of the bathroom every morning when he exceeded his allotted twenty minutes, but he also understood why they did it. He had given them quite the fright right after they had moved in, to the point where he was sure he had added a nightmare into their portfolios. He had had a panic attack and froze in place for nearly an hour. By the time that Jesper had managed to get the door open, Kaz had been shivering like the last leaf during a typhoon and nearly hypothermic because the hot water had run out a long time ago.

Now was a good day. He had made a lot of progress since they had all moved in together as college Freshmen. He was close to graduating now and had medication to help remedy the imbalances that his brain had made for itself. He had partners that loved and respected him, that had waited years just to be able to hold his hand.

Kaz brushed his hair with the comb Nina insisted that he use and then styled it back with a quick swipe of his fingers and some gel.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, the door to the bedroom that Inej and Jesper shared opened to reveal the former of the two. She scrubbed at her eyes with her hand and then smiled as she tilted her head down towards Wraith, the little black cat she had saved before they had moved into the apartment together. “Good morning to both my shadow men,” she said with a bright beam. “May I give you a kiss?”

“Are you asking me or the cat?” Kaz asked, raising a brow at her.

“I was asking you, the cat always wants a kiss,” she laughed.

The sound of tinkling bells and pure, unadulterated joy rushed through his bones like nothing had ever done before. He could get drunk off that sound, and he often had during their early dates together. “You may,” he replied before he stood in the hall stupidly for too much longer.

She cupped the side of his face with her calloused hand and then brought their lips together briefly. It was only after they broke apart that he realized she had tricked him, spinning them around so that she had the access to the bathroom that she wanted every morning.

He allowed it only because he knew that she got up before all of them on normal days for her practice. She may have been going to college for something completely unrelated, but she had never given up her love for aerials. Her parents had instilled the love of adrenaline and acrobatics into her when she was very small and she had carried it with her throughout the rest of her entire life. Kaz loved seeing her after she came back from practice, looking as though she had just run a marathon and as though she couldn’t be happier even if someone handed her a puppy.

He heard the door click behind him and then chose to peak in on Jesper. His boyfriend was meant to be giving him a ride up to the university as he had an extra study session with some of his engineering classmates, but it was unlikely he was going to wake up in time. Kaz would have to settle on taking the bus, even though he hated doing that more than he hated the prospect of going swimming.

When he got to the door of the bedroom, he paused and leaned to the side. In the master, where Nina, Wylan, and Matthias usually slept, he could hear the faint rocking of bedsprings. His entire face flushed when he heard one of Nina’s breathy moans, usually only done around him when something was particularly delectable. He turned on his heal and marched towards the living room as quickly as he could.

Kaz moved through the process of making his usual breakfast, what his mind told him he had to eat or he wouldn’t be able to function properly, his thoughts were on something entirely different. His hands moved secondarily to the rest of his thoughts, going through the motions and paces that they made every morning without fail.

He knew that his partners all had different relationships with each other. Inej and Jesper dated more like best friends that happened to kiss sometimes. Nina and Matthias were practically married and half in the grave with the way that they argued but loved each other so deeply. Nina and Inej were girlfriends in every sense of the world, giggling and holding each other like they were precious. Jesper and Wylan teased each other but were also so smitten they acted like they were middle school sweethearts. Inej and Matthias were still dancing around each other and their feelings like they had only just met despite having been dating for months. Matthias and Wylan went out on plenty of dates together and interacted as if they had fallen in love when they were in their senior year of university hundreds of years ago.

They all had a different dynamic with each other and yet there was a fairly strong through line with all of them. They had been able to hold hands, kiss, and cuddle from the get go while Kaz had to work to get to that place.

Kaz knew that wasn’t completely true. Inej had come from a bad relationship with a much older woman thad had groomed her with the promise of money. Heleen Van Houdan had apparently been doing it to a lot of girls, assuring them that she could get them enough money to make them comfortable. She promised them homes, expensive gifts, fame, and even education. She promised it all and then when it came time to deliver, she manipulated them into thinking that they had to service her ‘friends’. She was a pimp in everything but practice since it was only legal in a few very narrow parts of the world.

That experience had damaged Inej significantly since it had happened when she was only fourteen and in the foster care system. She had gone to a lot of therapy and worked on herself to try and get through it, the same way that Kaz was about his haphephobia and hydrophobia. Every member of the polycule assured her that she didn’t have to feel guilty about it when she was having a flashback. They were patient and kind with her as she adjusted to the feeling of having hands on her while still having the ability to say no to them.

He knew that same trust and patience was extended out towards him. He had seen it happen time and time again with each of his partners. Jesper and Nina cuddled like they were going to suffocate if they didn’t have someone wrapped around them at all times, but they still made sure that they didn’t walk too close to Kaz when they were out and about. Wylan wasn’t able to ask because of his own insecurities and trauma, but he would make it clear what he was asking for if he wanted something and couldn’t wait for Kaz to offer it instead. Matthias would just do anything that he was asked to do and nothing more, which meant that touches weren’t given unless they were requested.

His relationship with Inej was the one that was the most understanding, of course. She knew what it was like to feel no longer inside of one’s body when touch was given without consent. Kaz’s situation was far different than hers, there was no way that medical trauma could be comparable to being trafficked as a teenager. Still, she knew what it was like to be consumed with that floaty feeling and removed from one’s body. She had always been there to sit next to Kaz on the bed and talk him down from his panic attacks. He tried to repay her by reminding her that no one was owed anything from her, that she was her own person and if they expected something from her that she didn’t want to give then that was their fault.

She had been patient with him almost to a fault, which had made him fall so far in love with her that he couldn’t quite imagine a life without her. He knew that he would let her go if that’s what she decided would be best for her life, there was no way that he would keep her like a caged animal the way that so many others had. He also knew that her absence would leave a hole in him the way that Jordie’s death had, the same kind of burning and poison slipping through his veins during his every waking moment.

He loved her more than anything and it broke him inside every time he thought about them breaking up because he wasn’t good enough for her. He knew that the other partners would leave something gaping and painful in him as well if they decided to leave, but none of them would be as bad as her. He had talked about that with the others a decent amount but none of their conversations had ever delved into what his mind was circling now.

She had worked so long and so hard on her touch issues. She was able to cuddle against Nina like it was as easy as breathing. She allowed Jesper to come up behind her and kiss her neck while spinning her around on her good days. She could hold Wylan’s hand and play with his curls while they talked about the stars. She could touch parts of Matthias’ body that Kaz had looked at in awe while she helped him with yoga and have him touch parts of her body that were far too intimate while he helped her with workouts. She could even let Kaz pull at her hair while he tried (and often failed) at braiding it.

Kaz was doing better than he had been when they were freshmen and had just moved in together, he really was. Back then he couldn’t even let them stand next to him fully clothed. He had worked long and hard to be able to hold hands when they were both wearing gloves, and then when only the other person was, and finally barehanded. He could tolerate hugs and cuddling for the most part, he had even managed to settle his feelings on kisses.

But one thing had returned to Inej that he wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to touch. Despite the fact that her trauma had to deal with sex far more than his did, he had never been able to do anything sexual with his partners.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. He had thought about it plenty, even before he had overheard the goings-on of the bedroom while getting ready for his early classes. He knew that when people were in relationships they were supposed to feel attracted to each other’s bodies. He was, to some extent.

He thought that Nina was beautiful, with her long brown hair that curled and bounced around her face almost as if it were a wig and freckles that shone under her forest green eyes. He knew that Jesper was handsome, an angular face always contorted in a smirk and stormy gray eyes that spoke of mischief untold. Wylan was as cute as he had been when they were all eighteen, always wrinkling his nose when he was working or laughing and his deep blue eyes shimmering with joy now that he was away from his father. Matthias was handsome and anyone that couldn't see it was stupid, he was built like a brick house and rugged. Inej was gorgeous the same way that the sea was, deadly and always moving.

He knew that they were beautiful and handsome and anything else that they wanted to describe themselves as. He had seen them at their worst, like when Wylan had given them all food poisoning while trying to make Snickerdoodles. He had also seen them at their best, like when Nina had finally overcome her addiction and made a full recovery from rehab.

Yet, for some reason, he had never wanted to be intimate with them in those ways. He wanted to curl up in their skin and breathe in the beating of their hearts. He wanted to hold them close enough that their atoms would fuse together and they would cease being separate people. He wanted all that and more, but he couldn’t stomach the idea of being physical with them in that sense.

Kaz couldn’t think about it anymore, however, as the buzz of their apartment reached its peak. Both bathrooms were going and Jesper had just finished removing the bonnet from his hair. They were going to finish eating and then head up to the university in the matter of seconds, which meant that there wasn’t time or space for a crisis. He was able to give each of his partners a quick goodbye before he and Jesper had to rush out of the door lest they be late for their respective activities.

---

By the time that he got home late that night, he was tempted to put the whole thing in the back of his mind and never touch it again. He could already hear his partners and therapist telling him that wasn’t a healthy approach to his life and it would only result in him being miserable and unhappy, though. He couldn’t give more than a single shit about what his therapist thought of him since her only job was to help him overcome his phobias, but he did care deeply about what his partners wanted out of him.

So he said hello to them as he always did when he got back from campus and then retired to his room. Wraith was asleep on his bed on the hoodie that he had stolen from Inej the day before, so he was glad to have some company that wasn’t human and wouldn’t ask questions. He sat down heavily in his desk chair and booted up his laptop, plugging it into the charger that he kept at home as opposed to the one hidden in his laptop bag.

He really should have been working on some of the homework that he had gotten assigned that day so that he wouldn’t have to work on it as late the next day or that night, but he had homework of another kind that felt more pressing.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard of his laptop for what felt like an eon but was really only a couple of seconds before he began to type. It was a question that had arisen in his mind when he was in his second class of the day, one that had made his entire body feel like he had plunged back into that ice pool his foster family had used to try and cure him years ago.

It felt easier now that it had been sitting in his mind and he had grown more used to the idea of asking it in the first place. He let out a low breath as he hit enter and let Google take him to the results. He scrolled through the first several ads that he saw, which reminded him to update his ad-blocker so that would stop happening. Wraith yawned by his side and reached her little paw out so that her claws hooked into the material of his jacket. He reached down and placed his bare hand on her side to remind her that he knew she was there while he continued to sift through his findings. He clicked on the first YouTube video that came up and watched a couple seconds of it before he closed the tab and continued looking.

None of the answers that he was receiving were the ones that he wanted.

This wasn’t the first time that Kaz had considered if he was asexual or not. He knew that he didn’t look at people or have the same fantasies as everyone in his high school class had. He never tried to sneak a look at the other boys as they changed nor did he think that he was clever to pretend to walk into the wrong locker room. He thought that those things were deplorable and senseless, not just because they were a violation of a human right to privacy but because there was no point. Why would someone desire the body of a person that they had never met before, especially when there was so much else going on.

After he found Inej, the woman that he marveled at when they were sitting on the roof of their apartment building, he had reconsidered again. She was beautiful and he wanted to hold her or be intimate with her in any way that he could. He had never desired her carnally nor had he wished that she would speed up her recovery process like a couple of his previous therapists had implied. He didn’t want her to do anything to him that she wasn’t comfortable with, and he was alright with just about anything that she might want. He couldn’t think of Inej overstepping his boundaries or forcing him into something that he wouldn’t enjoy, after all.

It was different when he thought about the others. He knew that Jesper and Nina struggled the most with his touch issues because they felt the most loved when they were being kissed and held. They cared enough about him to work through the barrier, but it was there nonetheless.

Kaz snapped his laptop shut and let out a huff. If he was going to work through his feelings then he had to do it with the others. He had five partners for a reason, and that was because they all brought a different perspective about the world with them. He knew that they would be able to help him with the problem that he was facing.

The door to the apartment had just swung shut by the time that he and Wraith got to the edge of the hallway. Nina and Inej were lounging on the couch with the former’s hand in the latter’s hair while they watched a shitty b-movie again. Jesper was in the kitchen baking something for his da, who was allegedly coming to visit them that weekend. Wylan was sitting at the table with his headphones on so that his reader could tell him what his textbook said without disturbing the rest of the apartment. Matthias and Trassel had returned from their evening run, having apparently missed the one that they usually took in the morning, because they were standing in the doorway.

“Kaz, strawberry or blueberry?” Jesper asked, holding two bags of colored frosting up with each ask.

“Both, that way he can choose which one he can tolerate more,” he replied out of instinct. Jesper had improved in his baking skills over the years with near-constant practice, but when they had first met each other in high school he had managed to curdle chocolate chip cookies despite the recipe not calling for milk. It was still fun to tease him, especially since Kaz knew that he would get a portion of the sweet set on his desk when it was finished.

The return back to something familiar and comfortable was enough to make him feel more sure of himself. What he was bringing up was something that they had talked about in one sense or another, but he was always worried that whenever he spoke about his issues that it would end up being the final straw for his partners.

Wylan was the first person to notice that something was wrong. Jesper had simply scoffed and gone back to the furious decorating that he was doing behind their kitchen counter. “Is something wrong, Kaz?” he asked, his fingers already tapping at the counter and fiddling with the edge of his headphones. Jesper may have been the one in their duo to have the boundless energy whenever he wasn’t literally unconscious, but Wylan could still give him a run for his money when he was nervous.

“I was actually wondering if you would all be willing to have a discussion with me about something rather serious,” he said. Slowly, he limped over to the seat on the other side of Wylan were he sat down heavily. He hadn’t meant to leave his cane back in his room, after all the classes that he had today there was no doubt that he would need it to get around even if the distance was small. Wraith followed after him until she heard the clicking of her favorite person, which caused her to turn and run after Inej.

“I will come and join the conversation when I have changed,” Matthias said. His accent was heavy as he tried to regain his breath from the run outside. He sparkled with the endorphins that were no doubt rushing through his body from the exercise as well. He waved after his partners as he unclipped Trassel’s leash and let the mutt dart into the kitchen for snacks.

Nina made a startled noise as Inej pulled away from her and dug into the couch next to her for the remote. The smaller of the two girls shut off what they had been watching and turned to Kaz with the midnight dark eyes that made him feel breathless every time they were turned towards him. “What did you want to talk to us about, Kaz?” she asked kindly.

He opened his mouth and then none of the words that had been brewing in his mind were able to come to his lips. He snapped his mouth shut almost painfully and flared his nose as he tried to get his thoughts in order. They only ever did this when he was with his partners, so he was grateful that the others had the patience they did.

Eventually the jumble of panicked thoughts in his head gave way so that they were wrapped around each other in a nice, presentable package. He opened his mouth to speak and they had disintegrated by the time he pushed them from his lips, resulting in him saying, “I don’t want to have sex with any of you.”

Wylan blinked at him a few times and then placed one of his delicate musicians hands in front of his mouth. It did very little to hide the fact that he was smiling, based on the fact that his eyes were bright and sparkling 

Inej had sat up on the couch so that she was perched along the back, her head resting where the picture had hung until last week when Trassel decided it just had to come down. Wraith was purring happily in her lap and they looked as though they were communing with each other about what they were going to say. She was the first to actually speak, too. “You don’t have to have sex with anyone if you don’t want to.”

“Right, of course,” Nina immediately nodded. “We’ve never expected anything other than honesty from you, Kaz.”

“That is not true,” he said, just to be petulant. He knew that his partners wanted him to be earnest with them, to show them his heart and lay his feelings out on the table so that they could take his hand and help him wade through the shit storm that was life. He knew that they didn’t expect him to fall into place the way that other people might if they had pursued him romantically. He wasn’t expected to show up to every meal or to say sweet things or to hold them whenever they desired it.

“You know what she meant, don’t be a brat,” Jesper said. He set down the tray of cookies that he had finished decorating and then washed his hands. He walked around the counter so that he could sit down at the little dining room table and participate better in the conversation. “Sex is literally the most overwhelming form of touch that there is. We know how much you struggle with your haphephobia and PTSD, we would never assume that you wanted to have sex with us.”

Jesper was always so kind to Kaz. He could be snotty and mean when he wanted to, Kaz had seem him absolutely everserate the sorority girls when they got too bitchy, but he had never turned that kind of tongue on him. It was nice to know that passion and love was reserved for him, even if he didn’t always feel as though he deserved it. “It’s not that,” he sighed.

“Do you think that you could explain it to us more so that we could better help you?” Wylan asked. He was chewing on the wrong end of his pen and smearing blue ink all over his mouth.

Matthias walked back down the hall, wet from the shower and wearing nothing but his white track tanktop and a pair of gym shorts. He plucked the pen from Wylan’s hands and set it down on the table as he took the last remaining chair. It was rare that they were all back at the same time to eat dinner together and when they did, they ate it on the ground around their coffee table so that Inej could be reminded of what a family felt like in her culture.

Kaz ran a hand through his hair and then dropped it down onto the table. “I’m not sure there is a better way to describe it. I don’t get repulsed when I think about being sexual with any of you, but I’m also not desiring it the same way that I was with touch.”

“I thought that you were repulsed by the idea of touching us,” Nina commented. There was no judgment in her voice, just a statement of what she thought was fact. It was something that had caused their friendship to struggle in the beginning, before Kaz had realized that she stated her opinion and facts plainly without trying to obfuscate them. He appreciated her ability to lay everything out on the table the way that she did, it made it easier to talk with her.

He shook his head before he began to speak, “I got anxious when you touched me because of what happened when my brother and I got sick. Whenever someone brushed against me, especially skin-to-skin, it felt like I had been put back in that isolation ward. I could smell, taste, and feel everything that I experienced back then. I wanted to touch you, though. When I wasn’t having a flashback I could feel what it would be to do something like hold your hand or hug you. I wanted it but I had a panic attack every time I got it. Sex doesn’t feel the same, I don’t even understand the point of it.”

Jesper and Nina, the two partners in their polycule that could be argued as the most sexual, glanced at each other. Jesper was the first to answer, fidgeting under the table, “I think it’s just fun. The rush of pleasure that you get when you orgasm is nice and it’s another way to be intimate with someone.”

“I think another way to be intimate is a good way to describe it. I don’t feel sexually attracted to Inej or Nina but I love them very much, just as much as I love you boys. I don’t want to kiss them and I don’t really want to see them naked but I don’t mind when they’re loving the same boy as I am. I’m not disgusted by their bodies… I guess it’s more like apathy,” Wylan explained.

Kaz had known that from the beginning, which was one of the reasons he wanted to come out and talk to his partners about his feelings. They had already discovered what a queerplatonic relationship was when Wylan had a breakdown over the fact that he felt something stronger than friendship but different than romance for their girls. The relationship that those three had altogether was different and unique, something that Kaz couldn’t hope to understand underneath what he saw but possibly applicable to what he was feeling now. 

“I don’t feel repulsed by your bodies or attracted to them. I’m hardly even neutral about them, it’s like they only exist as a way to give you all forms so that I can see the parts about you that I love. I know objectively that you are all beautiful but I also think that a large part of that comes from the way that you carry yourselves and the history that we’ve made with one another,” Kaz explained.

“That’s sweet, Kaz,” Inej whispered. He knew that she was the person in their polycule that had struggled the most with her body since it had been made to  betray her so often when she was growing up under Heleen’s hold. She had to work every day to see her body as something that could help her make her goals and help her have experiences instead of something that could be desired and wanted by strangers.

“I don’t think that you have to want sex to love us,” Matthias said. “I want sex the same way that I want to eat. It feels like a need that my body has, but other people don’t have that need as often. I suppose that since it’s not something we need to survive not everyone has it either.”

It made sense when he put it like that. Kaz had never really understood sexual attraction and the way that their fellow college-goers fell over themselves to make out with people that were basically strangers. He sat back and thought about it for a moment, in which time Jesper went back to the kitchen so he could fuss with his cookies to have something to do.

Eventually, he looked over the people that he adored and asked, “Does that make me asexual?”

Nina laughed, “Labels are for us to define ourselves by so that we feel as though we can describe ourselves. If you want to call yourself asexual then you can, no one is going to stop you. But if you don’t want to and still don’t want to have sex with us then that’s fine. Like Matthias said, it’s a need that some of us need to fulfill in different ways because it’s intimate and fun. We’re poly for a reason, love.”

Something inside of him that he hadn’t realized had dislodged itself settled back where it belonged. He didn’t have to label himself anything that didn’t feel right and there was no rush for him to figure out if it did. His partners would be there for him no matter what he ended up deciding because they were good people and he had surrounded himself with them for a reason.

[marblesarelost]

Update

Damn, it's been a while.

See, I have to get off Tumblr periodically and stay off for a while because unfortunately Tumblr can suck up all of my attention, leaving me with no time in which to actually, you know, work or anything. So when I disappear, dear friends, don't think I'm gone forever. It's just going to be a long break.

Since last I left you, I've been through court reporter school; the only thing I have left for said school is what's called a live mock, which is where a bunch of people pretend to be giving a deposition in which I have to keep up with what everyone's saying and make annotations.

I also am in ... limbo of sorts ... with a court reporting company, waiting to take and pass a live mock with them so I can actually start work. If any of you need a job, can type at a decent rate, and have no problems sitting for a long time, I highly recommend you check out The Court Reporting Academy; they have scholarships available if you're willing to do five jobs at a lower rate than normal, and once you pass, you can make really good money. Like, really good. I know of two court reporting agencies that are paying upwards of $30 an hour, and you can work from home.

So the biggest news is that @Palaquinn and I are living together now in a house. A house that we are buying. That's big news, you guys. The kids are all getting along pretty well, and while we still have boxes everywhere, we're all doing okay.

I'm about to start doing DDPY again, specifically his Kneehab program, because my knees keep getting worse. It wasn't so bad this time last year, but a year of living on the third floor walkup did not help them. That being said, it was my only recourse at that time, and it was a good apartment complex; never had any problem with the landlord or the neighbors, and God bless my downstairs neighbors patience with the fact that both my children walk like elephants.

Bee is doing well; they went to Chicago this summer to the SAIC Young Artists Program or whatever it's called, and they had a great time. They also earned two college credits doing it. I'm proud of them for so many things; they were able to navigate the streets of a very large city by themself, they were able to handle the activities of daily life by themself. Sometimes that can be challenging for them, so I'm proud.

Bonus Kiddo is doing well; they seem to be much more accepting of me these days, which is great, and they even let me hug them sometimes, which is awesome.

Palaquinn is, as always, amazing. I don't know what I'd do without him, it's one of those loves where you don't know how you breathed without them before. Going on two years now and we still have yet to have a fight, which really shouldn't surprise me but does; but I've grown and matured over my years, and we get along and have the same outlook on so many things, it shouldn't surprise me. I still do my best to court him the way he should be courted, the way he always should have been courted, I do my best to remind him of how much he means to me and how deeply I love him just for being who he is. He brings me sunshine every moment of my days.

Football Boy is now learning how to be, of all things, a banker. He's working for a bank here in the area and will eventually be able to do the junior banker type things, he's got his own little area and while he's still training, he's more than just a teller already, though he can do a teller's job as well.

All in all, we're all doing pretty well out here; I'm not looking forward to the winter because I've been assured that this last winter was mild, and to me it definitely was NOT, but maybe I'll be more accustomed to it this year. I'm still going to be surprised if it snows four inches on Halloween, though.

Speaking of Halloween, Bee wants to be, of all characters, Carrie from Stephen King's Carrie. Dear Lord. So we need to get to work shopping for that outfit soon.

As evidenced from my post the other day, I still miss Earthshaker; but i know he is always with me, in his own way. I will never, ever, doubt the existence of life after death again -- I had a couple of experiences this last summer that I cannot explain at all, and I know it was him. I just know. So Earthshaker, as always, pray for us, pray for me.

So in other words, TL;dr, we're all doing really well. We're blessed. We're blessed beyond comprehension. And I hope with all my heart that if you are reading this, that you are blessed as well.

(And seriously if you need work, look into The Court Reporting Academy. Patti is darling, and scholarships are pretty easy to get.)