#my relationship with Sammy is complicated

[thatonecrookedsmile]

I would say that, considering his history, he's not that wrong, but even I have doubts as to whether that would be right. But at the end of the day, this is just a joke that's been in my head for a while, sooooo…eh.

Oh hey, an attempt at a comic? Made by me? That I didn't give up during the process or lost all motivation? What was my only attempt at this, 2019? Damn, it's been a long time.

I thought about leaving this here without editing or any colors, just the natural ones from the paper and pencil. But something in my head said "HAHAHA, no" so I went back to work. I had to put this idea down on paper this time (literally). If another year passes without me being able to execute this idea, I would lose my mind.

This scenario was inspired by this video by Jehtt, inspired by the original meme by Windii. Credits to both of them.

For a long time I wanted to joke - especially on the anniversary - that I wanted Sammy to only have less than 5 seconds in the next game (or in other words, take his screen time in DR, and shorten it even more). You know, just for the funnies (unless..?) But,thanks to the news released at the beginning of January this year about The Cage, I legally can't do this joke anymore…this year. Don't worry, after that comes out (and finally gives Sam the screen time he wants,hopefully) and we start to crawl into the Bendy 3 production era, I'll make this joke when I can.

Anyway, happy birthday Sammy Lawrence. You may not be my favorite character in this franchise, but there are some things I can actually appreciate about you. Plus, you made me laugh a few moments before (you know what I'm talking about) so there's that.

And happy 7 years to Chapter 2, and by extension, Susie, Norman, Alice, the Searchers, (Johnny????), and Beta Ink Bendy. (I would mention Jack too, but he was only introduced with the release of CH4, so technically it's not his birthday yet, but I'll consider him here).

And now? May I be able to do something for CH4's anniversary. Wish me luck,cus I'll need it.

(it might be really late now, but it's still the 18th where I live, so it's still his birthday, so I still won)

[snevinsspn]

dean being older than sam and having experience with an apple pie life “pre-hunting” is so incredibly fundamental to their characters and the way they function (especially in the early seasons) it’s insane.

dean knowing how their family used to be before losing mary and spending his whole life trying to desperately piece it back together because it’s the only good he’s ever had and he romanticizes it even though he knows it wasn't perfect because it’s so good compared to what they have now vs sam knowing nothing but hunting and the family fractured by grief and wanting that same normal life by escaping because he can’t picture his family ever being like that.

like dean trying desperately to stay the loyal soldier to his father and look after sammy and do everything that’s needed of him for his family because he saw how it crumbled and how mary’s death tore them apart vs sam feeling constantly slighted his entire life because he’s never seen his family be a proper family that treats him the way he deserves. he has no history of happy family so he lashes out because he doesn’t feel there’s anything there to preserve. he has no hang ups on telling john how it is because he has no twisted up loyalty to a now broken and dysfunctional family.

it also explains so well how they view hunting and getting out. like sam hates it and wants out so bad because he views hunting as the source of all his family's problems and if they had never started hunting they wouldn't be "like that". he wants out because he believes the only way to be happy and have a good life is to not be a hunter. meanwhile dean knows that their family wasn't perfect before losing mary and starting to hunt ("their marriage wasn't perfect until after she died" and that entire scene show that really well). he knows that really there are problems everywhere and that family is complicated and that the issue lies more with their family than with hunting. he doesn't wish desperately to get out the way sam does because he knows there are problems with life no matter what and the only thing he's ever had in his life that was good was his family so he works so desperately to fix it and keep it together.

like dean looks at their family and says “this used to be so good and its the only good i've ever known and that’s buried here somewhere and i can get back if i’m Good Enough” vs sam saying “this has never been anything but a disaster and will never be anything but a disaster so if i want something perfect i have to leave”

[bizlybebo]

rewatched atsv yet again a bit ago and having so many pd thoughts.sighs

[totentnz]

i dont know how to say this without sounding problematic but i wish you could romance kerry without romancing him

[ollybenrio]

I’m gonna get my thoughts and predictions out before the new Chaos Theory season comes out.

I think, genuinely, they’ve gotten all the ships and relationships set up to bring together the endgame couples. they’re setting all these relationships up so that when the real endgame plots happen, it hits us harder, gives us more of a deeper plot.

So far what i think is going to happen to the current in CANON couples we see/have;

Sammy and Yas: YES endgame, a beginning couple that they plan to keep.

Kenji and Brooklyn: NOT endgame, a beginning couple they gave for those who enjoy it, but as of now (chaos theory s1), it’s grown deeply complicated, and has made us dislike them (atleast me, they grew unhealthy for eachother). Gives plot and “complication” to future Kenji & Brooklyn relationships, gives us shock factor, entertainment for when/if future relationships with different people occur.

How i think it’ll end up;

Brooklyn and Darius: YES endgame. CT s1 we already see Darius has a crush on her, and we’ve previously (cc) seen them with lots of romantic history and chemistry. Most (?) of the fandom prefers them, and the creators know this (they also are not the type to ignore what fans want!). They’ve foreshadowed this relationship in s1 during the abandoned house scene (with that weird tub) where Kenji gets mad at Darius for liking her (I think?) but later towards the end of the season, we can see them forgiving each other, which MAY be forshadowing and giving that underlying feeling that Kenji is okay with Darius/Brooklyn, and that technically, they don’t like each other anymore, so Darius can do whatever he wants, even if that means dating her.

Ben and Kenji: YES endgame. We’ve already gotten tons of chemistry and dare i say, romantic history, with these two. that whole monorail scene where Kenji wears Bens “dork pouch” for ever? they were testing the waters with that. we know these creators aren’t scared of putting lgbtq relationships out there, so we know this also has plenty of potential. We know they didn’t interact so much during ct s1 but that whole egg scene with Speckles? that was a little… yk. They fit perfectly especially since everyone else is already going down their endgame routes with others that aren’t these guys. so in the end, they put these two together.

as a writer, and person who has watched plenty of movies and read books, i can see the route writers will go for things like this. it’s not always about preference, but where things/characters slot in. in relationships, these couples all make sense for endgame purposes. They gave us Kenji x Brooklyn for those who wanted it (more than enough seasons, might i add) so know they’ll feed the others who like Kenji x Ben and those who like Brooklyn x Darius. it all makes sense in the end.

let me know your thoughts on this!!

[justwhisperingfantasies]

This is my first piece for @jarpadversebingo . Squared Filled: College A.U Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader best friends to lovers. Warnings: Language, Fluff, Angst(ish), Pining, Drinking, Jealousy, Couple Fighting. Summary: College is hard. Add on being in love with your best friend (who you have to watch struggle in their relationship) Make's it a real B**ch. Word count: 2500 Special thanks to @nightxcreature for being my beta 🫶 My Tag list My Master List Hope y'all enjoy ♡

“I’m never gonna get this.” Sam huffed as he tossed the old book on the coffee table.

“Not with that attitude.” You told him,

“I think we need a break.” He voiced, standing up and starting toward the mini fridge in your common room.

“So, where’s Jess at tonight?” you asked him

“Um, girl’s night.” He said twisting the cap off two beer bottles. “She said she needed to let off some steam.” He rolled his eyes.

“Hmm. She’s been doing that a lot lately.” You commented.

“Yea…” He handed you a beer and sat down. You clanked your bottle to his and took a drink. “Back in the day she used to get mad when I didn’t go out with her.”

“We don’t have to talk about your relationship problems, if its too awkward for you.”

“You’re my best friend y/n.” he bopped your nose. “Why would it be awkward?”

You hated that term "best friend." Good enough to keep all your secrets and talk through your problems with but not good enough to be in a relationship with. You forced a smile, trying to mask the sting you felt every time you heard it.

"She’s been distant." Sam admitted, fidgeting with the label on his beer bottle. "I feel like she's pulling away, and I don't know what to do about it.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of empathy and frustration. "Have you talked to her about it?"

"I've tried, but she just says everything is fine." He sighed, taking another swig of his beer. "I don't want to push too hard and make things worse, you know?"

You leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. "Relationships are complicated. Maybe she just needs some space to figure things out."

"Yeah, maybe." He seemed lost in thought, his eyes distant. "I just wish I knew what she was thinking."

You turned to him, your heart aching for him and for yourself. "I'm sure it will all work out, Sam. Sometimes people just need time."

"Thanks, y/n." He gave you a small smile. "And thanks for being here. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smiled back, hiding the turmoil within. "Anytime, Sammy.”  You picked the book up off the coffee table. “So back to Constitutional Law.” You told him, making him groan.

“y/n!!” Sam shouted, collecting dirty looks as he ran through the library toward the table you were sitting at. “I did it! I passed the test!”

You stood up and threw your arms around him, “I knew you could it it!!”

His arms tightened around your waist; your feet left the ground as he spun you.

“Ok, enough spinning.” You told him, making him laugh.

“I couldn’t have done it with you.” He kissed your chest, making them turn red. “Thank you.”

“Yes, you could have.” You reassured him “But you’re welcome.”

“I gotta go call Jess.” He pulled out his cell phone, walking away.

Your hand slid to the place where his lips just were, a sharp ping in your chest as you watched him walk away. You sat back down returning to your books, determined to focus, but the lingering warmth of his kiss made it difficult to concentrate. The library seemed quieter, almost melancholic, as you gathered your thoughts and tried to push the emotions aside.

“I don’t get it Charlie.” You told your best friend as you plopped on her bed. “Why can’t he see it?”

Charlie sighed, putting down her book and turning to face you. “You know, sometimes people just can’t see what’s right in front of them. It’s like they have blinders on, focusing on everything but the most obvious thing.”

You stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of her words. “But why? It’s so frustrating.”

“Maybe it’s because they’re scared,” Charlie continued thoughtfully. “Scared of ruining what they have, or scared of what might happen if they acknowledge it. Or maybe they’re just not ready to see it yet.”

You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest. “So, what am I supposed to do? Just wait?”

Charlie smiled gently. “Sometimes, yes. And sometimes, you just must be patient and let them come to their own realization. It’s not easy, but if it’s meant to be, it will happen in its own time.”

You nodded slowly, taking in her words. “I just wish he could see it now.”

“I know,” Charlie said, patting your hand reassuringly. She stood up and moseyed over to the mini fridge. “But trust me, if it’s meant to be, he’ll see it eventually. And until then, we have beer.”

You managed a small smile, feeling a bit more hopeful. “Thanks, Charlie. You always know what to say.”

“Anytime,” she replied, the bottles clanked as she tapped your bottle with her own and you both took a swig.

You could hear yelling as you walked up the hallway to the apartment, recognizing Jessica’s voice getting closer to their door.

“Um, maybe we should just go without them, Max.” You voiced turning around to him.

“Or maybe they need to go out to end the argument.” He countered.

“Dude… That sounds bigger than just an argument.”

Max rolled his eyes and knocked on the door.

Sam's face was a mixture of sadness and anger as he opened the door. The spark in his eyes as they met yours was undeniable. "Hey guys… sorry about the noise," he said, his voice a blend of frustration and relief.

Concern etched on your face. "Is everything okay, Sam?"

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his tousled hair. "It's been a rough day.”

"Maybe getting out for a bit will help clear the air." Max pleaded.

A weak smile tugged at Sam’s lips. "Yeah, you’re probably right. Let me just grab Jessica."

As Sam turned back into the apartment, you exchanged a worried glance with Max. Moments later, Jessica emerged, her face flushed and eyes weary. Despite the tension, she forced a smile. "Ready to go?"

You nodded, hoping the evening out might provide some much-needed relief for everyone. "Yeah, let’s get out of here."

You all walked down the hallway together, the tension in the air was thick, almost palpable. Each step echoed the unspoken worries and unresolved conflicts. Sam walked ahead, his shoulders slumped slightly, while Jessica kept her gaze fixed on the floor. You and Max exchanged another glance, silently agreeing to make the evening as light-hearted as possible. As you reached the building's exit, the cool evening breeze brushed against your face, releasing some of the awkwardness.

Your group managed to find an empty high-top table. You sat down next to Max, across the table from Sam.

“I’ll be right back.” Max said as he started towards the bar.

Your eyes scanned the bar, trying to hide your discomfort.

“So, y/n, big day Monday. Isn’t this exam worth half your grade?” Jessica asked you.

“Yep. If Max wouldn’t have held me to my promise I would have my nose in a book right now.”

Sam chuckled. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring them with you.”

You peered at him as you gave him a mocking look. Jessica’s eyebrows rose as you and Sam teased each other.

Making his way back, Max sat a tray on the table. There were 9 shots and 3 beers sitting on it.

“Did you leave any for anyone else?” Sam joked.

“Shut up and do a shot.” Max remarked.

As the glasses emptied, your group relaxed and started having fun.

Jessica stood up and started swaying her hips, you could tell she was starting to feel the effect of the alcohol. You looked away as she wrapped her hands around Sam from behind. Not being able to stop it, you glanced back out of the corner of your eye. Your heart sank as you found a wide smile on his face with her whispering in his ear.

He chuckled. “You know I don’t dance, babe.”

She pouted.

“That’s not going to work.”

“Fine” She sighed. “Max, come dance with me?” she held out her hands.

“Of course, darlin.” He drank the last swig of his beer and stood up. “But forewarning if a hot guy approaches me, I’m ditching you.” he stated as he gabbed her hands, making the 3 of you, chuckle.

Sam turned to you. “What’s on your mind over there?” he stretched his leg, tapping you on the knee with his foot.

“How did you know?”

“Your beer.” He pointed at the bottle in your hand. You looked down realizing you were scratching off the label with your nail. “You always do that when you’re debating something, or nervous.”

You let out a soft, amused chuckle. “Well, I was debating on whether I should ask you what’s going on with you two.”

 “Ah I see.” He smiled and took a drink. “I don’t want to bother you with it.”

You glared at him. “Come on. Out with-it Winchester.”

He chuckled. “It’s stupid.”

“Amuse me.”

“She thinks I have feelings for you.”

You swallowed hard as your heart leaped into your throat. “Why would she think that?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing away for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “I don’t know! Maybe because we spend a lot of time together, and she gets jealous”

You looked at him intently, searching for any hint of truth in his eyes. “And do you?” you asked softly, almost afraid of his answer.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly, I don’t know what I feel anymore. She’s been so distant lately, and you’ve always been there for me. It’s confusing.”

You felt a mixture of emotions swirling within you. Hope, fear, and deep empathy for your friend. “Sam, I’m always here for you, but I don’t want to be the cause of any problems between you two.”

He nodded, appreciating your candidness. “You’re right. I need to clear things up with her.”

You pulled your purse onto your shoulder as you walked out into the common room. Charlie was sitting on the couch, smiling at you. Your eyes followed hers as she looked at a bouquet of white lilies with red roses, sitting on the coffee table.

“What are those?”

“I do believe they call those flowers, darlin’.” She smarted.

Your head tilted “Well no shit sherlock. Who sent you those?”

“They aren’t for me.”

Creases formed in your forehead as you read your name written on the note card. “Who are they from?” You leaned down and grabbed it.

“I didn’t read it, but I got a good guess.” She smiled.

The card read:

You're not going to need it, but good luck today! You got this y/n! I'll see you after.                                             -♡- Sam

You blushed slightly, feeling a wave of warmth washing over you as you tucked the card into the pocket of your purse.

“Maybe you won’t have to wait much longer,” Charlie teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

A smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah, maybe not," you replied softly.

“How did you do you have so much shit, Sammy?” Dean asked his little brother as he loaded more of Sam’s belongings into his truck.

Sam chuckled. “Thank you. For helping me.”

“Not a problem.” Dean sighed. “Are you sure it’s over? You might be able to.”

“Dean.” Sam cut him off. “It’s over.”

“What are you not telling me Sam?”

Sam glanced at Dean, a small smile creeping onto his face. "I have feelings for someone else," Sam explained.

Dean smiled as he registered Sam’s words.

"She's incredible. Smart, kind, everything I finally realized I needed." He paused, looking down at the ground for a moment before meeting his brother's eyes again. "She's been my rock through all of this."

“She is pretty special huh?”

"She is," Sam affirmed. "She's got this way of making everything seem... brighter. Even when things are tough, she’s always there, supporting me, believing in me."

Dean nodded slowly, processing his brother's words. "Well, Sam. It’s about damn time."

A weight lifted off your shoulders as you walked out of the exam room. A smile spread across your face as you saw Sam pacing in the hallway, waiting for you.

"I didn't know you meant right after, Winchester," you said, a hint of playful surprise in your voice.

Sam's smile broadened, his eyes lighting up with warmth and amusement. "Oh, so you got the flowers," he said, his tone teasing yet tender

"I did," you replied, starting to walk over to him, your heart fluttering with every step. "They're beautiful, Sam. Thank you.”

Sam's smile widened even more, if that was possible. "I'm glad you like them," he said, his eyes sparkling with warmth and amusement.

“So, how’d you do?”

“What do you think? I aced it.” you teased.

“Of course you did.” He agreed, still smiling

“So, what’s the plans for today?” you asked him

"Come on," he said, taking your hand gently but firmly. "There's something I want to show you."

You followed him, curiosity and excitement mingling in your chest. He led you through the winding corridors of the building until you reached a staircase that ascended to the roof. With every step, the anticipation built, the air between you charged with unspoken words.

When you finally reached the top, the view took your breath away. The iconic, red-tiled roofs of the university buildings gleam brightly under the azure sky, creating a picturesque contrast against the lush greenery. The palm-lined main quad is bustling with students and visitors, all soaking in the warmth and vibrant energy of the day.

Sam turned to you, his expression soft and vulnerable, a look you had seen rarely but cherished deeply. "I have a confession. And I’m sorry it’s taken this long, Being your best friend has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me " he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You a way of making everything better. You’ve been my light in the darkest of times. But.” He started walking towards you.

Your heart pounded in your chest as his words sank in.

His steps slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring each moment leading up to this one. The wind played gently with his hair, and the sun cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the sincerity in his eyes.

His hand cupped your face once he got close. “I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

A smile spread across your face as his words hung in the air, their warmth enveloping you like a cherished memory.

"I love you," he confessed, his eyes searching yours for a response. "More than I ever thought possible."

Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you whispered, "I love you too, Sam."

With a relieved smile, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a tender, heartfelt kiss. In that moment, everything felt perfect.

My Tag List

@idk6505 @kamisobsessed @barnes70stark @nightxcreature @quietgirll75

@nancymcl @hobby27 @hunter-or-the-hunted @deanwinchestersgirl8734

@deansimpalababy @roseblue373 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @PhoenixQueen

[daughterofapollo-official]

Why I don’t ship Leo Valdez with anyone.

Edit: I use speach to text, and I didn’t prof read because I had to work and I didn’t have time. So if you are reading this edit, it means there are still some grammatical mistakes. I will correct it and delete this red paragraph after work. If it’s been over 24 hours. Someone remind me in the comments cause my dumbass forgot.

In all honesty it’s because since he is my favorite character and I heavily identify with him, it’s because I want him to be happy. And I don’t think there’s an option of a healthy relationship shown in the books.

OK, first let’s go one by one on the popular ships and I’ll discuss why I don’t like any of them.

Hazel

Hazel already has an expectation for Leo, yes, he does look very similar to his grandfather, and they do have similar sense of humor, but let’s be honest guys as I debunked in a very recent post. They are not the reincarnated soul, and even if they are people change souls, change and reincarnation that’s the purpose of them they grow and they become different.

If Hazel already has an explanation that means that something Leo already has something to live up to. And that’s not fair.

You shouldn’t start relationships with high expectations. You should have what you are looking for yes like if you were looking for someone who makes you laugh and looks a certain way and makes you feel safe and those are perfectly acceptable expectations. I mean the expectation for someone to act the exact same way as someone has been dead for 14 years, and like this person you have in your mind, you have to be able to understand that no one’s going to live up to your dream and you have to be able to like except that but Hazel has a very hard time looking at Leo as anything other than and that’s really not fair for him, it’s not healthy. Hazel does not Leo she does not even like Leo romantically she purely sees him as Sammy and that’s not a healthy situation for him.

Jason

Do you know those people that look like they might make a good couple but are just better off his friends? It’s not that I don’t think that there’s a chance that Jason or Leo are not attracted to men I don’t know if they are and if they are that’s great for them honestly.

I just feel like the vibe I get from Jason and Leo is that they work so well as friends and they are so functional as friends. I have such a healthy friendship and a healthy relationship platonically that I feel like romance and sexuality would ruin that and it would complicate things, sometimes just click platonically and you should cherish and lust and romanticizing in my opinion.

I do think they have an opportunity to be a good couple, but let’s say everything was exactly the same Percy Jackson, except Piper having the fake romantic memories. It was Leo.

And then Piper and Jason eventually becoming an actual couple it was Leo

That means Leah would have to watch his boyfriend die getting impaled.

And Leo already has so much trauma with people he loves so deeply dying before him that he would spiral and he would probably make another attempt if you know what I mean

Nico

Honestly, I think that Leo and Nico could be really good together. They vibe really well as friends. They do actually canonically have a very strong friendship despite not having a lot of screen time together they have similar body types. They both come from the family of immigrants. They both deal with things through humor, although in a very different way more distraction that doesn’t have to do with the trauma and, Nico sarcastically making fun of his trauma

I honestly can see them working out very well except for the fact that like a child Apollo, I have to support will and seeing that Will and Nico are the best couple for each other

But I don’t think they’d be a good couple because I personally strongly believe that both characters have eating disorders. Nico probably has Anorexia and Leo probably has either anorexia nervosa or bulimia.

And it’s hard to know whether or not this would be good for them romantically because they there is the option that they support each other and they understand each other so they know how to help each other and how to relate to each other, but there’s also the probability that because they feel this way, they will enable each other.

Calypso

The only cannon chip in the one I hate the absolute most

Canonically Leo is a minor he cannot consent to having a physical relationship or romantic relationship with Calypso

In the Percy Jackson universe, I personally believe that because the age of consent went higher that some gods may be not Zeus, but most god started waiting for humans should at least turn 18 before having affairs

Calypso was isolated from earth and Olympus so she doesn’t really know about the whole age of consent thing. She doesn’t even know about consent in Greek mythology. She is an actual rapist.

And putting someone with severe body issues and severe abandonment issues in the arms of the canonically toxic woman it seems so scary to me

Now this rape theory is very speculative of me, although it’s pretty obvious if you know any of calypso myths and you know recognize the fact that Leo is only 15 when they meet it’s very disturbing

Although the reason why I have like actual validation and hating their relationship is that she constantly body shame him, and body checks him and put him down for his physical appearance in anyway she says he’s unattractive. She’ll never find him attractive. She doesn’t refer to him. she doesn’t acknowledge him as her boyfriend that well she yells at him constantly. It’s just like a constant verbal aggregation and abuse to someone who’s already very insecure about their body and very mentally unhealthy and the fact that this is his first relationship is very alarming because he is learning that all of this abuse is just part of being in the couple and that’s not the truth it’s part of reality. It’s really sad to me.

So that’s why I don’t ship with anyone because I don’t feel like anyone would be either available or cause a healthy relationship.

I do want Leo to find love, although I really like the idea that he breaks up with calypso while living in Indiana with his new foster family and then he’s like has a mortal girlfriend that he meets at high school.

Personally, I feel like Leo dating would be the best thing for him because it gives a very strong sense of normalcy that he never had in his life and it’s a strong escape from the tragic immortal world

Something normal and loving and healthy and safe with just a human would be the best relationship for Leo in my opinion. I think that Leo needs to find someone he can settle down with like early in life and have a few kids while he still pretty young because I think that he’s the type of person to therapies his poor childhood by raising kids and a happy childhood and a happy home. Honestly, it makes me happy.

[boykingscourt]

What are your thoughts on Wincest? Do you have any hcs?

oooh I'm excited for this! good opportunity for me to clarify some things if anyone is new around here or just curious

if you're here for the short version, I'm definitely a wincest respecter but not necessarily a wincest shipper

if you're here for the long and more nuanced version, please read on!

I have a lot friends both here and irl who are wincesties, but the most important thing for me is that they love and defend sam. I've read wincest fics and the presence of wincest is not a deal-breaker in fics, but I prefer reading gen sam and dean on the whole. it's fun to analyze something in the show with the wincest lens on, but I can just as easily take it off. ultimately wincest is not the only version of sam and dean that I find compelling, but I don't really care if people view some of my posts as wincest (wincesties, please do interact) because I only say what I think and feel regarding the brothers. idk does that technically make me a wincest shipper? maybe some people will think it does, but ultimately I feel like the nonshipper label fits better

now I'm gonna get on my soapbox about proshipping for a moment. back in the day, what we think of as "proshipping" was just called common courtesy. I'm not saying fandom was perfect when I was younger (and I was probably too young to be in fandom then if I'm being honest) but in my experience people were more respectful about ships they didn't like, understood the difference between fiction and reality, and for the most part didn't make assumptions about people irl for things they enjoyed in fiction

of course I'm not saying you have to ship incest or want to interact with people who do, but it's crucial to curate your own space. coming on here or twitter and harassing people for shipping wincest and/or crying in the main tags about how disgusting it is just makes me lose respect for you. block what you don't want to see and move on

I will also say that being so against others shipping incest and finding yourself in the supernatural fandom is kind of a problem you created. it's kind of, well, extremely silly. wincest is the oldest ship in this fandom, like literally as old as the pilot itself, and was instrumental in first getting the show off the ground (i.e. not cancelled). also given the very not normal relationship between sam and dean, the other gothic horror elements present in the show, and the way the writers and actors regard the ship, it really should be no surprise that it is so popular

okay so now that I've gotten all of that out of the way, I'm going to address the other part of this ask, which is wincest headcanons! I don't know if these are necessarily headcanons, but it is the way I prefer my wincest when I think about it or imagine how it fits in with canon:

I definitely don't imagine them as like boyfriends, just more of what they are in the show, brothers with a complicated, intense, and abusive relationship (it being complicated does not mean you cannot call abuse what it is). I think their relationship having a sexual component would not help anything and would probably just further highlight the power imbalance present

related to above, I think dean would use sex the way he uses love and affection in canon, expertly alternating between being generous with it and withdrawing it when he's angry as means to manipulate sam and have him constantly chasing after the affection. and trust. trust especially. sometimes dean isn't even aware he's doing it (or would at least tell himself that's not what he's doing to his darling little sammy), but it's extremely effective either way. seasons 4, 5, and 8 especially would be delicious in this regard

in s7 there was a point where sex was one of the only things that kept hallucifer at bay, so sam was always torn between shaking dean awake multiple times a night in their motel rooms or handling it on his own. ultimately because I think he didn't want to "burden" dean with his visions or have them both lacking sleep all the time, he would lie and pretend that one or two times a night made lucifer go away. it became harder to pretend as we approached 7x17, and after sam "let lucifer in" in 7x15, the sex trick stopped working too. also hallucifer eavesdropping or appearing over dean's shoulder as they're having sex is very appealing to me

dean is the dom. I really can't see that any other way

dean doesn't see what he does with sam as any reflection of his sexuality, aka "it's not gay and it's not incest it's just sammy." sam probably would see it as some kind of reflection of his sexuality but wouldn't see the point in voicing that

dean was experiencing attraction to sam for a while beforehand, but I don't think they began messing around until sam was a teenager. maybe it wasn't like full blown sex then, but it was definitely something. I think a bit of precedent just adds something fun to s1, especially with dean coming to get sam in the pilot and how they interact, all that time apart, and sam's grief and guilt/dean's guilt surrounding jessica

I hope you enjoyed and found something compelling in here! I am certainly no wincest connoisseur, but these are my opinions

[520cafe]

sour grapes. matching keychains

you and dan heng decided to arrive at the very same cafe where march and the others simultaneously ditched you both as an attempt to unfold the rocky and complicated relationship that you shared with dan heng but, you both were also playing mind games just to avoid talking about a certain topic: the current state of the relationship.

"since when did you drink lattes, dan heng?"

after a successful somewhat awkward-free trip to the cafe, dan heng offered to walk you back to your dorm. stalling, you both stood outside your dorm and you ultimately decided that you were not ready to face kafka in a humiliating spotlight for forgetting the room keys.

"not sure, i’ve started drinking them for a while now."

"they're good aren't they? i've only ever seen you drink black coffee."

dan heng could not help but to send you a small smile; it was faint but still possessed some form of tenderness towards you. the fact that you still remember his preferences and habits felt as if red chrysanthemums were blooming inside his heart. little did you know, lattes reminded dan heng of you.

"hey.. maybe i could teach you how to make lattes some day?"

wait.. why did i ask that? there was a slight hesitation in your voice but it was all brushed away by dan heng when his only thoughts were filled with surprise that he has an opportunity to spend more time with you, alone.

“i would like that, [name]."

again, it was the way your name rolled perfectly off his voice that made you feel nervous. it gave you a mixed sensation of fluster but also uncertainty. why did i feel this way?

before you could respond, you were suddenly met with dan heng's cold touch delicately holding your hand as if it was a piece of glass. however, that touch felt as if there an electric shock in the short moment where your hands were together. slightly jolting, you looked at him with wide eyes until you felt him place another cold object on the palm on your hands.

looking at the object on your hand, you could only feel further astonishment as your lips slightly parted. the object that dan heng placed on your hand was a small white cat keychain that was attached to a spare set of keys to dan heng’s dorm. that white keychain used to be yours during your past relationship with dan heng and dan heng held the black cat keychain that was matching with yours.

when you looked up from your hand, it was only then you realised that dan heng already left. as you looked at the small keychain that was surprisingly neatly-kept, it felt as if the bittersweet memories started to flood your mind like a never-ending string of polaroids. then, you internally face palmed yourself at your sudden realisation. did i seriously just invite my ex for more one-on-one alone time? it was as if your heart had a mind of its own and was controlling your every action.

and that rolling snowball of conflicting emotions only grew bigger.

🍇 SOUR GRAPES 〈 13 matching keychains

━━ MASTERLIST. ╱ PREV. ╱ NEXT.

╰► SYNOPSIS. after being in the same tight-knit friend group for over a few months now, suspicions begin to rise when march, seele and bronya start to notice the awkward tensions between you and dan heng. little did they know, you and dan heng were once high-school sweethearts who shared a romantic and fairytale-like past where the pages only lasted for a year. this heartbreak led you to meet another unfortunate victim of cupid but that chapter flew away as quick as stardust. yet, it appears that you two were also destined to cross paths once more.

╰► [ a/n ] : YES DAN HENG IS A BEABADOOBEE LISTENER WHAT ABOUT IT also last written chapter for act one yipeee ‼️ANDDD act one is ending very soon with only 2 more chapters left 🤭

━━ TAGLIST. @lauvwar-r @sunsethw4 @shizu-c @amyena @zephestia @loudeggbananaranch @lunavixia @twistedrxses @shinjuuz @danhenglovebot @flos-veritatis @sammy-hammy @kiwidoves @aeongiies @heartswonder @lilactaro @lunnaeclipse @m1lley0ns @hansel-the-pierrot @astro-pioneer @aquatikk @obervation-subject-753 @vellichxrr6782 @rubberduckieyourtheone @viovya @stayriki @ceylestia @starryeyedkoko @theflameofyoursoul @kalims @liminalimmortal

[palmtreesx3]

Act 4 - Going All the Way

Queening (Steve's Chapter)

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Summary: (10.6k)  Steve’s phone call with his dad does not go well, and the aftermath of that call impacts way more than Steve himself. Steve has to realize a few things, only one of which is that he’s got people there to pick him up when he’s down, but the most important is that relationships don’t have to be conditional. As everyone rallies behind Steve, a revelation comes in the form of a stranger on a bench, and that chance meeting starts a few wheels in motion behind Steve’s pretty head. Can he fix what he’s done when he was down and out? Can he patch things up? Is this the end of the road, or can he go all the way? Buckle up, and enjoy this angsty chapter of Get Off. 

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Heavier topics are explored, depicted or mentioned including prejudice and anti-gay bias, heavy binge drinking as escapism, depression and a blink of thinking better off dead, controlling parents, overstimulation and some dashes of neurotypical behavior you can catch if you blink slowly enough. There’s also the ongoing sexual innuendos and explicit discussion of body parts, as well as implied p+v intercourse, and the holy grail of pussyeating. 

"What the hell is going on, son?" his father's voice bellowed through the phone. "I just heard from a colleague that you're working in some... some pornographic store downtown! In town for business and he could have sworn he saw your lookalike walking into the place, but then you turned around and he knew it was my own flesh and blood. How goddamned embarrassing, Stephen. Do you know how embarrassing that conversation is to have over a business dinner?"

Steve winced at the tone his father took, a visceral response he’s had since childhood. A tone he knows well and somehow still cuts just as deep as it did when he was thirteen. "Dad, it's not like that. It's just a job. It’s…it’s retail, s’all it is" he stammered, attempting to diffuse the tension. To deflect. To play ball. 

His father scoffed, "Retail job? Don't play games with me. I've spent years paying for whatever you need, trying to get you scholarships for sports which you squander away with your shitty grades, and this is what you end up doing? Sitting on your ass for a few years and working in some seedy place, peddling who knows what!"

"It's not like that at all. It's just a store, and we sell lots of things, not…not just that stuff, Dad." Steve tries desperately to explain, slipping right back into it - the role of a boy trying to find any excuse to satiate a father that could never be pleased. Like the time he was a shameful teenage boy being told he’s worthless as he stood in the entryway of the house, barely over the threshold, all because he passed the ball and let Sammy Curtis sink the game winning shot instead of taking it himself.

"That stuff” he interrupts with a scoff. “Is this what I raised you for? I expected you to have a respectable career by now. Thought this move to the city was going to give you some fresh choices, not this... this filth!"

Steve was not ready for this. Half his hangover was still hanging on for dear life. Just a moment ago things were…not this complicated. He was eating a raw bagel talking about…you…with his friend. Even when that was the thing that felt complicated it wasn't really, was it? It was simple, and easy and… Now he’s struggling to find the words to defend himself, especially hard long-distance, though he also guesses he should be grateful it was - he wasn’t forced to see the rage and disappointment behind his father’s eyes this particular time."Dad, it's just a job. We needed work, and this opportunity came up. It doesn't define who I am. I just…it shouldn’t matter that much." 

“Just a job? Stephen? What do you mean just a job?” At that, Steve can hear his voice slip into a deeper register. He knows the face that goes along with this. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his father is going to try and ruin his life. It’s not much of one, but it’s his, and he can just tell that he’s about ready to pull the rug out from under him. 

“You're 25, for God's sake! When are you going to get a real job, a job that befits the family name? Do you think your mother and I worked so hard for you to end up in some disgraceful position like this? Galavanting around a city and being a part in all this promiscuity. Goddamnit, at this rateI bet you even associate with the gays. Don’t you?"

He feels his body tense and wince as those words spill out of his fathers mouth. His eyes flit to his friend, sitting on the couch, legs tucked up under her and perched there watching one side of this debacle unfold like a deer in headlights. Forcing a smile at him, an awkward smile of encouragement, none the wiser about the hate his father is spewing about people like… about her. Tears welled up in Steve’s eyes thinking about it and Robin sees them - or at least she thinks she does - and her eyebrows furrow in concern. But before she can be sure, he turns around refusing to show his vulnerability right now even to her. He bites his lip to stifle the visceral response he had to his dad’s prejudices about his friend. "Dad, I'm doing my best. I'm trying to make a living and figure things out. It's not as easy as you think."

His father's tone softened with a hint of disappointment unlike the frustration and anger that has been flowing out of him since the minute Steve picked up the phone. In almost a plea, he says "You're embarrassing us, son. This is not the life I envisioned for you. You need to reconsider your choices and start acting like an adult."

After a brief silence, his father's voice returned, this time laced again with frustration - the softness that just fell was all an act. This is the hammer Steve was expecting, and it’s falling. Right now. "Enough of this nonsense. You're coming back home. I've arranged for a position for you in the firm. You'll start immediately. Stability, respect – those are the things you need. Not whatever you're doing in that disgraceful place."

Steve ran his free hand through his hair, shaking his head but not really knowing what to say. Dragging his hand back down his face, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The pressure to conform to his father's expectations had been a constant weight on his shoulders for his entire life and this is not the first time this conversation has been had. This time feels different though. Before he hadn’t had anything to call his own - not as much to lose. This stupid apartment and the life that they’re living, it’s been good. Maybe the best thing that he’s ever had. And it’s been his. Before, his dad just wanted control. This time, he wants to control him and strip him of the actual identity he’s been working so hard to understand and build. "Dad, I... I need some time to figure things out here. I can't just drop everything and come back."

His father's tone grew more insistent. "Time? You've had enough time, and look where it's gotten you – working in a place like that! It's time to put an end to this foolishness. You're coming back, and that's final."

Steve hesitated, torn between his desire for independence and the fear of his dad. He takes a deep breath and finally responds "I appreciate your concern, but I need to make my own choices. I can't just give up on everything I've built here."

"Built? You call this building a life? What have you accomplished, working in that... that den of immorality? Come home, and I'll set you on the right path. It's time you take responsibility for your future." 

As his father continued to insist, Steve’s yearning to forge his own path and avoid any that looks remotely like his fathers continues to intensify. He’s tuning out the insults at this point, desperate to find some sort of life raft to hold on to as he drowns in his fathers disappointments. It’s only then, that he finds it. The lifeline. The realization that he's got miles between him and his father now. He’s not coming home later to ground him or impose punishments on him. He isn’t relying on their money to pay bills. His mind is racing a mile a minute, and nothing…not one fucking thing he can land on points to any reason that he has to comply with his father. He isn’t depending on him for anything anymore, so why does he owe his dad anything at all?

"I'll think about it, Dad," And with that, he hangs up, knowing full well that he won’t think about it for another goddamn second. 

And that day, Steve called out of work. 

Robin couldn’t even argue with him. After the receiver hit the wall, she could tell that it was worse than she expected the minute he turned around and she could see his eyes glistening. She also was confused as fuck, because she swore she also saw him smirking just a little bit, but she was not going to poke the bear. She let him storm off and slam the door to his room. She didn’t bother him even though everything inside of her was screaming to go knock on the door and make him talk about it. Make him listen to her. She wanted to tell him he wasn’t anything that his father probably just said he was, but they’ve had this conversation before and…damnit she was working really hard at knowing boundaries - trying to read the room and figure out when she needs to shut up instead of rambling incessantly at all the wrong times. She thinks that this is one of those times that people need space, so she acquiesced. 

She makes a full pot of coffee, sets out some more food and the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and leaves it all out on the kitchen counter for Steve for whenever he emerges once she’s gone. Subtle. Not every way to help has to be in your face, she tells herself. I don’t need to meddle. He’ll let me know if he needs anything. Right?

Robin’s walk to work that day was quiet and dreary. The weather outside, overcast and air thick with that feeling that comes before the clouds break open and pour down on you. Seemed fitting. 

It took Robin five whole minutes after she got to work and put her stuff away before she meddled anyway. She picked up the phone once, and quickly set it down - thinking better of it. But immediately picked it back up against her better judgment and called you. As your answering machine picks up and your message plays, dripping with sarcasm and coyness asking your caller to leave a message after the beep, the realization hits then that she has no idea what your schedule is and it was a dumb idea to call you. Dumb dumb dumb. Steve’ll be pissed anyway. 

As the silence settles on the other end of the line Robin’s eyes widen in panic. She meant to hang up, call back later, pretend this didn’t happen at all and play it off as a wrong number. But she’s pretty fucking sure she just said that out loud instead of in her head. “Dumb dumb dumb. Steve’ll be pissed anyway.”

She hung up faster than the devil can fly, slamming down the phone and rattling the display case. The commotion drew Murry out from the back office, shirt pulled up and scratching at his stomach. “What’s got you all worked up Red? Little lost without your other half? Where is he anyway? Finally ruined his perfect attendance because of a wicked hangover, didn’t he? Make sure you tell ‘em he’s not eligible for the Perfect Attendance award this year, nowwww–ohhh something is off about this... What is it Red?.”

So for the next hour, Robin tries her best to summarize what it’s like to have the Harrington’s as parents and what just happened this morning. At least what she knew, because Steve hadn’t shared anything that his dad had said on the other end of that line. “Red, thank God you talk so fast, otherwise that story would have taken up your whole shift. Shit.”

That coaxes a chuckle out of Robin, which makes Murray smile. “Listen, that guy sounds like a Grade-A Asshole. No wonder Steve’s wound so tight…Makes so much sense actually. But this ain’t your fight. Steve’s gotta deal with this demon on his own and he has a funny way of showing it, but he knows where to find the people to help when he needs them. I’m sure of it. He’s not that fucking stupid.” 

“Yeah, see you’re wrong there Murray. He does absolutely think that he has to do everything on his own. Even when he knows we’re here, he won’t… he won’t ask for help. He won’t talk about it. He…thinks he deserves it.” 

It ended up being a slow day, not many people wandering the streets with the off and on drizzles happening all day long, so Robin used that time to bring Alex up to speed after she popped in the shop after work. 

Alex found the story surprisingly relatable. She grew up in a house with rich, successful parents just outside the city in the suburbs. Her parents hosted lavish dinner parties for business partners and she grew up in a way that seemed an awful lot like the Harrington house, other than the fact that they didn’t disappear on her for weeks on end. Her parents, however, were disappointed in her. Unlike Steve’s story, they were not pissed at her skill or her work ethic, her dreams or aspirations. No, they were pissed and disappointed at who was calling the house late at night and giggling on the other end of the phone. Who was picking her up for a night at the movies, or who she was driving off to meet under the swaying trees in the park. The boys she was dating were not good enough for the family - not a “strong enough merger of families” and then when she brought home a girl…well that was a horse of a different color all together. 

Five hours later, Robin and Alex are standing outside of their favorite pizza place in the neighborhood, thinking that a pie and some beers might just draw a sulking Steve out of his cave of self-loathing for the night. They haven’t heard from him all day, and Robin, despite thinking she should maybe let him be for a while, still decided to try and call home to check in on him. When he didn’t answer, Alex offered up a simple explanation, “Rob, he’s probably just sleeping it off, or not in the mood. It’ll be fine.”

Pies and six packs now acquired, they walk side by side the rest of the way back to the apartment, ready for whatever their friend might need. 

“Honey, we’re home!” Robin exclaims, as they barrel through the door. But she stops dead in her tracks seeing the counter laid out with all of the supplies, perfectly arranged exactly how she left them that morning. “Steve? Y’okay?”she shouts down the hallway, on her way to tap at his door before she hears Alex call her name from the living room, beckoning her to come. 

When she arrives, what she doesn’t expect to see are the crushed cans of High Life strewn all over the coffee table, an ashtray so full that she knew he had to blow through most of the pack he has tucked away from when they drink, and the half emptied bottle of Whiskey sitting at the foot of the couch. He didn’t even bother with a glass, she knew it. He spent the day trying to drink away the awful things that sorry excuse for a father said to him straight from the bottle. 

His shoes - the Chucks, the ones he’s been wearing lately - they’re not by the door. Neither is his jacket, so she knows he left and went somewhere. 

But then a high pitched beeping sings from the kitchen, and Robin immediately knows that Steve’s Tamagotchi is hungry…he left, but he forgot his keys. That stupid drunk idiot got locked out. 

All the strings Robin has been holding together all day come loose. They unravel like a dangling thread on a handknit sweater and Alex is pretty sure she hadn’t taken one breath since she started rambling. “Ohmygoddoyouthinkhe’sokay? Whatifsomethinghappenedtohim? Ican’tlivewithmyself. Howdoweevenfindhim? OhmygodI’mgonnahavetotellthekidshe’smissing. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” 

“Robin.” Alex calmly speaks.

“Ifhe’sdeadI’mblaminghisdad,Isweartogodhe’sasgoodasadeadmanhimself” 

“Robin.”

“Jesus,weshouldcallthehopsital? Ormaybethepolice. Yeahwegottacallsomeone. Ohmygod.”

“ROBIN!” Alex finally screams, two hands on her shoulders now shaking her into some sense of reality. “You’re spiraling. You can’t be spiraling. We have to think.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just….”

“Rob, I know you’re worried. We’ll figure it out. Okay?” Alex slides her hand along Robin’s cheek, around her neck and tugging her in for a deep hug, trying to get her to reset, regroup…focus. “Babe, first thing….why do you think he would leave?”

Pulling back, she assesses the situation. Eyes darting around the apartment, closing her eyes so she could think. Just then they pop open looking at the mess on the coffee table. The beer. That was the last of the beer. 

“He was out…” she whispers. “I bet he ran out of beer. That was all we had, and it looks like he polished it off.”

“Okay then. Let’s go for a walk. Check some places where he might get some beers - maybe the corner store you guys go to? See if anyone has seen him, okay? Sound good babe?” Alex’s tone is cool, calm. Her eyes are caring and concerned not just for Steve but also for Robin. She’s being so soft, and even in her panicked haze, Robin notices. 

“Al…Thank you. I needed that.”

With a soft kiss on her temple, Alex grabs Robin’s hand and tugs her towards the door. “Now don’t forget your keys, either, you maniac. Let’s go.”

It’s three pit stops and two meltdowns from Robin on the sidewalk curb later that they find him. It’s honestly the first place they should have looked, but at least they were on the right track. 

Steve did, in fact, get raging pissed that he was out of beer. The cashier they recognize, but don’t know his name, told them as much - mentioned that their friend came in angry and stumbling, grabbed a pack of beer and left it in the middle of the aisle when he rushed out of the store grumbling to himself. It seems as though dear Stevie also forgot his wallet. 

The next place they thought to look was The Hideout. Robin thought that maybe he’d come looking for her, begging for some cash so he could replenish his stash. Pay no mind to the fact that it was past closing for a weeknight and Robin was long gone, at this point they were absolutely certain Steve had no idea what time it even was. Half expecting to see him leaning on the door of the shop, or passed out in a slump on the front stoop, when they came up empty handed again Robin needed to cry.

Head in her hands, leaning on her knees as she sits on the curb, Alex tries to stifle a laugh at how splotchy faced and snotty her beautiful girl is right now. “Baby,” she says, pushing back her hair “Baby…let’s think, kay? is there anywhere else Steve feels safe in this city? Who else does he feel safe with other than you?”

The revelation comes quickly. 

Head popping up with a renewed sense of confidence in their search for their missing and probably sloppily drunk friend “I bet he’s at Bennys.” 

And after a 10 minute walk that is the most silent Robin Buckley has ever been in her entire life, she lets out a breath that she may or may not have been holding the entire time when the door to Benny’s swings open and she takes in Steve with his forehead on the bar. Hopper is standing behind the bar polishing glasses with an irritated scowl and right in front of Steve stands a Joyce, hand right on top of his with sad, concerned eyes that flit right to the girls who just sounded the bell. 

Pitiful. The look Joyce was giving him was pity. And if Steve were coherent enough to realize it, he would be completely ashamed to be receiving it from anyone. Steve was shitfaced drunk out of shame and disappointment and whatever feelings of inadequacy he was shielding away from everyone else in his life, but at least he was safe. Thank Christ he had the decency to come to Benny’s, where at least Joyce would take care of him - make sure he doesn’t do anything else stupid. 

“Steve!” Robin yells, rushing over to his side “Steve, we didn’t know where you were. And you left your keys. I was so worried. We thought you were dead, I swear….well I thought you were dead. Alex was much more rational, but…” 

A groan falls from Steve’s throat as their attention turns to Joyce. She opens her mouth to speak but Hopper interjects before she could even get a word out. 

“Your buddy here is a fucking mess. He’s lucky this is Rick’s third stop on his daily tour of downtown dive bars. Recognized the bastard and drug him over here after he got kicked out of wherever they were before this. I honestly don't know where. Ricky’s always so drunk I probably shouldn't even be serving him by the time he gets here anyway.``

“Steve, honey.” Joyce’s honey soft voice stirs him “Your girls are here. Rob and Alex, they’re here for you, baby. Let them help you, okay? Y’cant stay here like this.” She says as she rubs his hair back and tries to soothe him awake. 

“He’s been drinking straight ginger ale for at least an hour. He thinks it's mixed with whiskey but I just couldn't. It was easier than him and Hop arguing ‘bout it.” she says under her breath, just out of his earshot. 

After agreeing to let him sweat it out for a bit longer, Joyce passes the girls a drink while they wait and slides another ginger ale in a rocks glass in front of Steve with a wink.  With soft voices they talk about what has unfolded today just loud enough to hear each other over the din of the jukebox playing “Hunger Strike” in the background. 

Shit. 

As she hears the deep roll of his voice on Eddie Vedder’s verse she’s reminded of you, and remembers the cryptic message she most likely left you on your answering machine. Even though the boy is sitting there in the flesh in front of them, his eyes now open enough to see the whites of them, his stare is vacant and he hasn’t looked this way since… well. Ever. Robin has seen him through some pretty serious shit, and he’s never looked quite this detached. 

“I’m worried about him, girls.” Joyce coos. 

With a nod in agreement, she asks for the only thing she can think to do next. “Joyce, can I use your phone? I gotta call someone who might be able to help.”

Alex’s eyes go wide and she winces, “You sure that’s a good idea, Rob? I mean, I see where you’re going with this, but he’s gonna be pissed, isn’t he?’

Seeing the look of confusion on Joyce’s face, Robin grabs the phone and continues “It’s..a girl. He’s fine. It’ll be fine. I don’t care if he’s pissed about it at this point. We need help and… I might have already left her a message earlier in a panic. Oh - Hey!” interrupted in her rambling as you answer the phone on the first ring. “Yeah, yeah I’m so sorry about that weird message earlier. It’s been a… day - a real bad one. We need some help. We’re at Benny’s, and…it’s just - Steve. We need help with Steve, can you come?”

Of course you will. You were there to help as soon as you could. And just like Robin and Alex assumed, Steve was pissed. 

“I'm just saying Stevie, you didn't have to be so mean to her. She came because I called. Didya really expect the two of us to be able to drag your sorry ass home without calling in reinforcement? Have you seen my arms? They're basically twigs!”

“I wasn't trying to be mean to her. It was you guys. I was pissed you called her…cause I didn't… It's embarrassing. She didn't need to see me like that. I know you were trying to help. You can barely carry a damn grocery bag, so I get it, its just… I was pathetic.”

“Well. You said it, I didn't.” Robin shrugs, kicking her feet up on the stool next to her by the register. It's been a few days and they're at least able to poke fun a little bit at the whole thing. Steve and Rob had a long talk after he was able to shake off a two day long hangover that he spent in the dark, shades drawn - crackers and some Pedialyte by his bedside. 

Steve eventually spilled his guts to Robin on the fire escape while she smoked, his throat still too sore from the pack he inhaled in his drunken rage that day. He wouldn't even look at her when he told her about how his dad was talking about… her. Told her that there's been a lot of terrible, downright rude things that his dad has done and said over the years that he's made an excuse for or ignored, but that…that disregard, that intolerance he showed for someone that Steve cared about. That when it comes down to it, Steve loved. That was the last straw. He couldn't turn a blind eye anymore. 

He didn't feel he owed his dad an explanation. If he really thought Steve would show up this weekend with his bags and his Beamer ready to put on a suit and head to the office alongside his dad on Monday, he has another thing coming. 

Murray saunters into the storefront then “Before I finalize this schedule, ya sure you're gonna show up on Monday, dude? Last chance to turn in your notice and go shadow daddy dearest, because if you no call no show me on this schedule next week consider this bridge burned.”

“No way in hell, Murray. I'm fully committed to your dick shop. I'll sell anything you dream up over spending one hour in a building full of pricks like my dad. Don't care how much the salary is or how big the guilt trip.” 

“Well in that case, Steve, it sounds to me that where your dad works is the real dick shop, huh? We…deal only in one way tickets to pleasure town here.” 

“Touche” Steve gives Murray a pow pow with his finger guns before walking through the dangling beads hanging at the entrance to the break room. 

Emerging twenty minutes later (and five minutes late from his break) Steve is unsurprised to find Alex spread across the length of the couch. “What are you two assholes doing?” 

“Hi Alex, thanks again for saving my life and ensuring I don't die in a ditch or need my stomach pumped from alcohol poisoning and ensuring that my most magnetic and caring roommate and best friend didn't have a stroke while I was missing. It's nice to see you again. I am forever in your debt.” Alex mocks with a deep voice meant to imitate his while Robin cackles, slapping her thighs. 

“Smash or pass” she deadpans. “Julia Roberts.”

“Pass” Steve and Robin say in unison. 

“Really?” Alex pops up in surprise. 

“I guess I just don’t get the appeal with that one. I like her movies, though, just…don’t wanna see her bush. No rolling in the hay with her for me.” Robin says very matter of factly. 

“Yeah, for me” Steve quips pointing right at Robin. “Reminds me too much of this asshole right here. Can’t even think about it.” 

Madonna. Demi Moore. Sharon Stone. Liv Tyler was a unanimous smash. An hour went by throwing out names and shouting out whether or not they were fuckable before Alex’s bisexual ass snuck in Brad Pitt.

“Bleh, pass. That's a dick.”

“Smash.” Steve's eyes go wide. Did he just…

“Stevie boy, did you just smash Brad Pitt?” Alex is literally on the edge of her seat at this point. Robin's jaw is just about on the floor. He's waving her off “That…that's not.. I mean. If I were I guess…he’s a good looking guy, s’all I’m saying.”

 “You would like the golden boy type shit. I'm more of a ruggedly handsome older man kinda bisexual. I bet you'd smash Patrick Swayze too, handsome. UNLESS…are we talking Interview with a Vampire long hair type Pitt because…”

“This is too much for me!” Robin is shouting as she starts pacing. 

“Robbie, I’d expect a little more tolerance from you. I’m disappointed.” Steve pokes fun. “Anyway, you do have the late shift today, so I’ll save you from thinking about me boning Brad Pitt and get out of here.”

“Ew. Steve. No. You and Pitt? You’re definitely bottom. He’s batter dipping the corn dog, not you.”

Raising his middle finger in the air, he gestures behind him to the girls as he walks out the door. 

After grabbing a coffee, Steve swings into the record store to browse for some new vinyls. The guy at the front desk is starting to get to know Steve, and he likes that the guy is comfortable enough to make recommendations or pulls a vinyl or two to save for next time Steve comes in. It makes him feel memorable. He’s little more than guy at the record store to Steve, but yet guy at the record store cared enough to think about him and what he might like even when he’s not here. 

It’s stuff like this, that he hasn’t really experienced until he moved here to the city, that makes Steve feel less than insignificant. Who would have thought that coming to a city filled to the brim with more people than he knows what to do with would make him feel more seen than a small town where everyone knows your name ever did. 

He grabs his bag, filled with three new recommendations from guy at the record store, and he’s heading for the door before the cashier yells out “Oh damn, bro. I almost forgot. Someone left this for you. It’s already paid for, so don’t worry about it, but she said you gotta hear this one.” Steve reaches out to grab the bright red sleeve and turns it over twice before slipping it into his bag. “Yeah thanks dude. See ya around.” 

He lies to himself when he thinks that the brisk pace he is walking on his way home is because the nights are turning colder in the city and he wants to get home. He lies to himself a second time when he says he wants to keep moving so he takes the stairs two at a time instead of waiting on the elevator. He lies to himself for a third time, pretending that he’s not really in a rush even though he doesn’t take off his shoes and jacket before he makes a beeline right for his record player all while unwrapping that vinyl he knows that you left for him. 

The whirring of the player and the zap of the scratching needle connecting with the plastic make his brain start to buzz and he’s done lying to himself when he thinks that he was so fucking stupid when he shouted at you - drunk out of his mind or not, he has been expecting you to never speak to him again, so…you leaving this for him might just mean…

In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey

Butane in my veins and I'm out to cut the junkie

With the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables

Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose

What the fuck did she leave me? He thinks, as he lets the record spin and listens, patiently. Waiting for the hook. Waiting for the bass drop. Waiting for those deep drum rhythms he likes so much. Waiting for the lyrics that are supposed to hit home.

Oh. 

Soy un perdedor

I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?

(Double-barrel buckshot)

“Maybe I should just move home and take a stupid job with my dad like he’s been telling me to do since junior year of high school.”

Murray hears the boy complaining as he walks through the door with three giant boxes stacked on top of one another. “Casanova. Hey!” Setting them down he snaps both his fingers right in Steve’s face “We’ve been over this… focus on my dick shop, not your dads. I got new goods, get your sweet ass over here.”

He waves Steve and Robin over to the front window, and they dutifully follow. Ripping open the boxes with a rusty pocket knife he pulls from his tube sock, Murray rambles about the boxes filled with a new Latex fashion line he was checking out at the expo. He shoos Steve off to grab the mannequins from the back storage room so they can set up the window display. “Make sure to grab the dudes with the biggest packages back there, Stevie-boy!” before looking at Robin curiously, asking her to spill the details and explain the pivot back into full on self-loathing Steve took. 

“Ah, the lady friend? She gave him that? Sassy. I think I like her. If he doesn't want her…” wiggling his eyebrows, Murray is quickly cut off as Steve re-enters the floor.

“Doesn’t want who?’ Steve says, male mannequin under each arm. 

“Oh, nothing. I gotta go get some lunch. I’ll grab the plastic girls on my way back in and you two can play dress up.” 

“Hey Stevie, whaddya think?” Robin’s got one of the black latex outfits held out in front of her as she tries anything but effortlessly shaking her hips to the beat of the song playing overhead on the speakers. The would-be seductive dance is cut off when her face lights up, running off to the break room with the package in hand.

“I don’t like that look Robbie. What are you doing?”

Shaking the beads dangling from the door frame to announce her re-entry, Steve’s eyes glance up before doing a double take. Robin stood there, leaning into the wall looking as casual as she possibly can (which isn’t that casual, honestly), standing in a full head to toe black latex catsuit. If Steve could have, he would have taken a polaroid if not just to gift to Alex as a thank you, or apology. Whatever she needs most from him - he’s not too sure at this point. Robin arches her back like she’s posing for a centerfold and it’s not long before the two of them are deep in a fit of laughter from her antics. 

Except something goes wrong. The fit of laughter soon lets up, but Robin still can’t catch her breath. Steve is breathing deep, grinning again and shaking his head at her, and while she’s happy she’s coaxing out a laugh and a smile she hasn’t seen from him in over a week, her chest is getting tighter by the second. 

Looking at his friend's pallid face, his eyes dart around thinking while she starts wheezing for air. “Rob…are you...you’re not allergic to latex, are you?”

She shakes her head no adamantly but quickly backtracks, realizing that no, she can’t be sure she’s not allergic to latex. Holding up her hands between the two of them, her wrists are ballooning up around the seam of the catsuit sleeves, body swelling up making the suit stretch over her skin even tighter. She starts to claw at it, trying to get it off, but it’s so slippery and tight, and suctioned to her sweaty skin that it won’t budge and her panicked expression locks on to Steve’s. 

“You didn’t know you were allergic to latex? What the fuck Robbie?” 

“When was I supposed to find out, huh? Not like I’ve been carrying around condoms since I was 15 like you, you asshole!”

“So what…that’s not… What about a balloon? Haven’t you ever been around a fucking balloon before, Rob?”

“Steve, I'm poor. We didn’t buy balloons for birthday parties. I didn’t get….extra…shit. I…no. I can’t remember …ever having a…. balloon.” She’s sucking in breaths between words as much as she can. “Steve, help. It’s….I can’t…”

Walking down the street, Murray is on his way back from grabbing his sandwich, when he spots the flashing lights on the street ahead. What he doesn’t expect is to see those flashing lights belonging to an ambulance pulled up outside of his store. Dropping his sandwich into the grimey gutter, he’s absolutely dumbfounded at the sight before him - Robin laid out on the stretcher, clearly naked and covered with a white sheet and his new inventory in shreds on the sidewalk after the paramedics had to cut it off of her. “Oh for fucks, sake. I didn’t literally mean you should play dress up, Red.” 

It takes the paramedics another 20 minutes to get her settled and breathing from an oxygen tank in the back of the rig and explain the situation to Murray and Steve. Her reaction was bad, so they should expect her to be down and out for at least three days until the swelling goes down and she can recover her breathing enough to function normally. Murray storms off into the store grumbling about Workers Comp paperwork and throwing his hands in the air while Steve stays back, readying himself to climb into the back of the rig and ride with his friend before she stops him. 

“Listen, dude. I’m clearly not gonna be home tonight, and you don’t need to worry about me. Don’t you dare think you’re gonna sit and keep watch at my bedside. This is definitely the only time in my life my tits will look this big, so I’m not about to invite you in. Alex gets clear first dibs before the swelling goes down.” 

Steve grimaces, scrunching his nose up in disgust “Ew, gross Robbie. Stop talking to me about your tits.” 

“Whatever. All I’m saying is, maybe take advantage of the empty house? I know she sent you a message loud and clear with that record but I still don’t buy that she won't give you a shot to explain. Call her. Please?” 

All he can do is nod as she pats his hand and smiles. He backs away so they can close up the rig and watches as they pull off, lights flashing with his swollen raspberry of a friend in tow. 

Murray ends up closing the shop early that night, saying he’s had it up to here with both of them and he just wants to go see Hop and Joyce for an ice cold drink. Before Steve could even respond, Murray’s finger is in his face “NO. You’re not invited this time, buddy. I don’t wanna see your face until tomorrow. And you have the late shift. I don’t wanna close and I think you two owe me.”

“Owe you?! What the heck, I didn’t do anything, man. Robin, she is the one that -”

“No, you listen here. Your moping and loathing is getting irritating. I like you, unfortunately. I’m not sure why, but I like you Steve, and you’ve been fucking annoying since you let your dad get in your head. And whatever is going on with this lady friend, you better fix it.” He pokes Steve right in the chest - hard.

“Is she a girl, or a woman, Steve?” he says, and Steve remembers their chat about Steve’s choices. Why they never seem to work out and how he keeps going for the wrong kind. 

“She’s … she’s a woman. Obviously. She doesn’t want to put up with my bullshit.”

“Fix it, Steve. Thank me later.” 

He had two beers before he worked up the nerve to pick up the phone. He probably would have had another, but he thought better of it considering the last time he saw you. More like the last time you saw him because he doesn’t fucking remember a lick of it. An apology probably wouldn’t go over very well if he was shitfaced again all because he needed some liquid courage to get the balls to call you up. 

It took three, long, agonizing rings for you to pick up, your voice suddenly some sort of beacon in the night for him. He was silent for a beat too long, and just when you went to hang up muttering “whatever asshole, prank call someone else next time” he finally was able to whisper out your name just loud enough that it traveled through the phone line and made it to your ears. 

“You got my record?” 

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I deserved that… and it’s actually good.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I know. Can I see you?”

And to his surprise, you agreed. You asked him to meet you outside, so you can walk to the cafe together. Promised in a way that had him believing it would all be fine - that you’ll figure it out from there. So he’s sitting on the bench outside of his building waiting, legs bouncing up and down uncontrollably mind weight down from anticipation, nerves and his least favorite piece of baggage, self-doubt. 

“You look like you’re waiting on something, boy. Don't wait too long, or you’ll end up looking like me and still never finding what you’re lookin’ for, ya know?”

Steve chuckles and nods. He thinks he does know. And God, he doesn’t want to spend his life chasing an idea and running away every time he gets close because he’s sure he’s not good enough for it. He doesn’t want to be sitting on a bench when he’s 80 lamenting about how he used to look good, had the good hair before it all fell out and turned gray, would get the girls and throw the parties, could pound back a six pack like it’s no big deal, how he was the former Keg King - King Steve. Like that all means anything at all. None of it did. It was all bullshit. 

“I’m Steve” he says, holding his hand out and reaching across the bench. The man reaches out accepting his grasp and introduces himself as Robert.“You live here too?” he nods back at the apartment building. 

“Sure do. Me and my little rascal Dart.” and Steve notices the small dog laying quietly at the man’s feet. 

“What you said before…I am waiting on something. Someone actually. But…I think I’m mostly waiting on myself.” 

“Ah, yes. That’s the age old problem innit? We’re always late to our own party. Been in this city for decades and it’s all the same. Young kids like you are lost until they find what they’re looking for, but some of ‘em, they never find it. No one leads ‘em to it and they forget that it’s even worth lookin’ for along the way.” 

Steve nods, a little solemnly, at the wisdom the old man is sharing. Resonating just a bit closer to home than the old man probably knows. But then he sees a flash of you from down the sidewalk, your jacket wrapped tight around your body, a tentative smile on your face when you see Steve waiting for you like he promised. 

“Ah,” the man laughs a hearty laugh. “She looks like she’s worth waiting for though, my boy. You should go.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” Steve says with a bright smile, and it’s genuine. Maybe she's worth it? Or Maybe Steve will see the old man again. He's not sure which he meant, actually. Maybe…both. 

The walk to the cafe seems to go on for eons. After an interaction teetering on awkward, feet pushing at invisible rocks on the pavement and tentative smiles, you both head in that direction side by side, stealing glances for a block or two before either one breaks the silence.

It seems like both of you have let the dull drone of the city take up enough space in the night and you finally speak up at the same time. 

“I am sorry for being such a mess.”

“I'm sorry for being a bitch.”

“No. No.” You cut him off. “Yeah you're right. You were a mess and you were kind of a dick about it. I'm not gonna excuse that. But you were a mess, and Robin and Alex were worried for good reason, obviously. You were a mess because something happened and I can't be mad at that. I can be frustrated with how you handled yourself…how you treated people who were just there to fucking help you, man, but at the end of the day, you were going through some shit and…I held it against you instead of helped. And then I got you that record and…”

“I…yeah I should not have drank my problems like that. I shouldn't have. I was an idiot. I am an idiot. That song is…not that far off. Might be my theme song, actually.” He holds back a small laugh to himself. “I do stupid shit. That's not new. But…I wasn't mad at anyone until -”

“You sure seemed mad, Steve.”

“I was…it's just. I guess I'm realizing now I wasn't actually mad at anyone but myself and my dad until you showed up.”

“Correct. You made that loud and clear.”

“Oh. I -” silence falls over them for a few steps, Steve finally looking over at you in a way that makes you feel like he's looking into you not at you this time. “I think I finally understand. Can…can I try and explain? Once we get there?”

You nod. And you let him. 

Like a floodgate, the honesty Steve holds back on a regular basis flows out the minute he starts. Tucked in the back corner of the cafe, a steaming hot chai in front of you, a black coffee with cinnamon and nutmeg there in front of him, he tells you how growing up actually felt for him. Not just the my dad is an asshole version but how it really affected him. He says it out loud and admits the way his dad made him feel. Tells you stories about all the sports and the winning and the popularity that was never what he wanted anyway. Tells you how his dad has spent his whole life grooming him to be a mini-version of Mr Harrington, and that's the absolute last thing in the world he wants to be. He just wants to be Steve - whoever that is. 

And he cries. He cries when he tells you about the phone call. You notice it's not at the mean things his dad says to him, the names he's called or the put downs about his life that break him down - it's when he tells you about the disdain in his dads voice when he berates him about being friends with the gays. How he couldn't look at Robin after the way his dad talked and how he felt more shame in that moment than any other. Not ashamed that he’s friends with Robin. Not in a million years, but more from the idea that his dad - no anyone - would be lucky to find a friend half as good as Robin is, so who the fuck cares who she loves, right? Jesus Christ. Shame that someone he loves has to live in a world where people like his dad exist. 

You both need a refill before he can get through the hard part, though, the part where he hurt you. Steve motions to your empty cup asking if he can get you more and before you know it, comes back a short time later with two new steaming mugs and plates of assorted pastries and snacks balancing on top. I didn't know what you'd like, so I got it all. 

Something tells you that even if you don't actually say it, Steve would know for next time. He'd know that you're a sucker for their blondies and like to snack on their homemade caramel corn because even as he's spilling his guts he's paying attention to you, and from here on out every time you meet Steve Harrington at the cafe, he'd have your drink and a plate with a blondie on it waiting for you every single time. 

Then, Steve tells you about that day. About how he remembers chain-smoking inside the house and how he knew Robin would fuck me up for it but I didn’t care. He recalls for you how he sat on the sofa with the whiskey bottle muttering to himself about the things his dad said, trying to figure out why this man thinks he can still push his grown son around. He tells you he remembers leaving to get another 6-pack when he ran out but that was the last of it. He doesn't remember much of anything or how he got to Benny's. Hop had told him, and he makes sure to remind him every time he's seen him since that he was pitiful watching Steve being drug in by the drunkest man on the block. Never thought I'd see the day anyone was more drunk than goddamn Rick, boy. Sure proved me wrong. 

And when he gets to the part where his friends show up, when you show up, he looks downright ashamed and worried. With a deep sigh, falling from his lips, he tells you that the next and only other thing he remembers from that night was you walking through the door. With his head lain on the bar, vision completely sideways, what he saw was a fucking angel walking into the bar. Thought he was hallucinating or maybe even finally out of his misery and you were coming to bring him towards the light, until his brain made you right side up and he realized who it was. 

He didn’t remember the yelling, but Robin told him later how big of a douchebag he was when all he did was start yelling at you and making one hell of a scene. Hearing Robin tell him about how he shouted and asked in such an accusatory tone What are you doing here? made him wonder if he was no better than his dad in the first place. Sounded an awful lot like him in the moment, at least. 

You think he looks like a kicked puppy as he explains the rest. “I - I don't expect you to say anything. Or do anything. I don't expect you to forgive me or…” running his hands through his hair you can tell he's trying to pluck up some semblance of courage. 

“The thing is, I was mad when my drunk brain finally registered that you were there, and you were there to help. Because I didn't want that. Help sure…I fucking needed help. You saw me. But you….” His swallow is so loud it's audible. 

“I was embarrassed I didn't want you to see me like that. I… “

Reaching across the table you gently touch his forearm and it gives him enough courage to finish what he has to say. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like that, because I like you too much…Like, the real kind. And I feel so stupid saying it out loud, because I thought that if I showed you how broken I was, you’d see that I wasn’t worth it. Maybe you don’t think I am in the first place and that’s fine I can be just your friend. S’probably all I deserve, honestly.” 

He chances a look at you just then, and when it’s not a scowl or indifference he feels safe rough to continue. “Before I didn’t know why I was being such a jerk and I figured it was just because - I am a Harrington, after all. But, I understand why I did it now. I understand that even though I did it wrong, I was trying to protect you from me, and I was trying to protect myself from… ”

Scooting your chair closer to Steve, you push his wild and windswept hair back so you can see him even when his head is hanging low. His eyes flit up to yours and there’s no pity in your eyes. He was expecting pity at the very least, but it’s not there.

“Steve, who says I need to be protected? Especially from you?”

He doesn’t expect your fingers to find his on the walk away from the cafe. He doesn’t expect your touch to be soft. He doesn’t expect it to stay longer than a second - maybe just the gift of something fleeting. But it is. It does. Your fingers hook into his and they don’t pull away, holding on to him and his limp hand before he can even process what he’s being given. Fingers hooked and coaxing him to just let go and embrace it. Fingers he accepts as he laces his with yours, and they stay that way for the entire walk back to his apartment. 

—-

A nod of the head with a huge grin spread across his face, Robert welcomes Steve back to the building, still perched on the same bench he walked away from a few hours ago. Maybe Dart needed to go out again, or maybe Robert never left, but in that moment, Steve thought about everything the old man said to him earlier. He’s done with waiting. Waiting has gotten him nowhere. Hiding his feelings has gotten him nowhere. The only person standing in his way is himself. 

Your name falls from his lips softly, but there’s something there that wasn’t there earlier in the shop. It’s more sure of himself, almost confident. The predictable thing to come next was a goodnight kiss on his front stoop, and you’re thinking that maybe after all this time and him finally admitting that he’s into you, you’ll get what you’ve been wanting since that night in the back seat of the cab, or when you felt your tummy flip sitting across from him eating that ice cream. Poised to lift up on your toes to close the distance, instead he surprises you when he tugs your arm and pulls you inside the front door to his building with a grin. 

And you got that kiss. Oh God, did you get it. 

When the door closed to their apartment, Steve turned around to look at you. There was a heat behind his eyes as he slid your coat off of your shoulders for you, and a yearning hiding there when he looks up at you from below as he crouches down to help you slip off your shoes. Rising back up in front of you he’s close. So close that his lips are just barely apart from yours and the heat of his breath tickles your cheeks. The pair of you are so close that there’s barely any space between your bodies when you suddenly find your back pressed up against the door behind you. 

Lips finally touching, slow and just barely you breathe out “Robin…” 

“That’s not my name, honey.”

And you laugh. A sweet thing that makes Steve’s insides twist and turn.

“She won’t be home tonight. There was some latex…She’s fine. I’ll explain later.”

The kiss you finally get is sloppy, but in the best way. There’s no time for chaste kisses here, pillowy lips slotted together and moving effortlessly between one another. He adjusts your chin with the tips of his fingers so that he can gently caress the line of your jaw, following it back down and up again as he slides his fingers through the base of your hair. His grip there is tight, but not painful, Possessive but not overwhelming. It’s like he’s got something he wants so desperately and he’s afraid to let it go. 

He gently touches your upper lip with the tip of his tongue, coaxing you open further for him, letting his tongue follow the outlines of your teeth before letting his dance together with yours. He lets out a small sigh as you continue to nip at each other's lips and play with how you both respond to one another's kiss. The sigh makes your mouth crack open in a smile, cheeks drawing up with the grin and encouraging his kisses to explore elsewhere. Small pecks start on the corner of your mouth and then your cheeks, right on the apple of them as their pulled taught by your smile. 

Moving down towards your jaw, your neck, they get more and more salacious the lower they get. Red and pricking, a bruise is blooming at the spot on your neck just under your ear where he settles in to suck and kiss at your skin while the whimper that falls from your lips as he does it and your fingertips running through his hair and scratching at his scalp keep him grounded - barely capable of holding it together as is. 

When you ask him what he wants, the answer he gives you is not one you expected. Sure you expected him to want to dote on you - after all, he’s attentive like that on any given day, so Steve being a giver in the sheets was almost…a given? But when his gasping breaths punctuate each word that comes out of his mouth Can you … I want you to ride my face? was a pleasant surprise. 

Now surprising him, you not only agreed, but were confident about it. “Always wanted this. No…no one would let me.” He tells you as he breathes into you, chest heaving, foreheads touching. He barely notices as you pull the top of your dress down and work it over your shoulders, then the swell of your breasts. He only registers your exposed skin as you guide his hands down to your waist so he can hold you steady as you step out of it. 

Coaxing him backwards towards the sofa, you tap his shoulder and tell him to sit down on the floor, back against the furniture, as you make a show of removing your bra. He does as you ask, unable to tear his eyes away from your supple skin and perfectly peaked nipples, making a mental note that later he absolutely has to get his mouth on them. As you shimmy down your underwear in front of him, you pause to add a kiss to the top of his head before dropping the garment directly in his lap.

He bunches them up in his hand, sliding them into his front pocket for later as you settle over him, “Y’know…they call this Queening?” perched there on your knees, you’re fully undressed and slotted above his face so casually. 

“Mmmm. Makes sense.” He says, against the seam of your pussy and your thighs, making you vibrate with his words and his gentle hum. 

“R’mind me to tell you why one day.”

“Mmmmhmm. Sure thing.” In a haze, he reaches around you, fingers digging into your supple ass and pulling you closer. Forward and over, just where he wants you. The perfect position where he can use both his mouth and his nose - just like Robin told him he should.  Head moving subtly left to right, he tests it out, tip of his nose gently nudging your clit left to right and right to left and his warm breath teasing your wet, glistening folds. You let out a gasp followed by a small breathy little uhh, that has his ears ringing and he’s happy. Pleased with his position, he slips his tongue out and traces you with it, before returning with a big, firm lick - tongue flattened and wide making sure you touch all of you in one pass. Those big hands wrap further around you, now snaking over the tops of your thighs and this time tugging you down. Down down down and there’s nowhere else to go. 

Now you’ve had some fine oral sex before. It’s a non-negotiable for you when it comes to relationships: If a man is worried about tasting your clit, you don’t want him. You’re worth more than that. You’ve even done this a time or two, but Steve nestled between your thighs, under you like this fully clothed and pulling you into his face further despite there not being anywhere else to go is otherworldly.  

Other times you’ve found yourself in this position were tactical. A position change, a new angle, just for fun, a lazy guy. But being perched on top of Steve Harrington’s face is making you feel like a true goddess. You were about to give him a history lesson and tell him why this is called Queening and instead he’s proving it to you. Making you feel just like one.

Between smooth glides of his tongue, Steve sucks at your lips, your clit, the seam of your thigh. Once you’ve settled and allow yourself to fully relax over top of him, he releases his bruising grip - perfect tiny crescents left behind in their wake - and uses those free hands wherever he can reach. Sliding up your spine, ghosting over the peach of your ass, along the curve of your backside and between them, too. 

You’re not quiet anymore. You couldn’t be if you tried, and if you weren’t muffling the sounds coming from him with your thighs, you’re pretty sure the symphony of both of your moans would be enough to tip you over the edge. Since his are busy elsewhere, your hands find their way to your tits, rolling your nipples between your fingers and throwing your head back in pleasure as you start to absentmindedly grind on his face. 

He lets you bask in your pleasure for a while before tugging you out of your daze, hands covering the small of your back, pulling and angling you forward so that your hands fall to the arm of the sofa behind him. Now, leaning over him, soft and subtle grinding returning like muscle memory, he takes the opportunity to slide his fingers in from behind, just alongside his mouth. Thick digits slipping inside, scissoring alongside the wet muscle of his tongue, nose nudging your clit between deep rolls of your hips against him, he notices the twitching of your velvety walls first, followed by the shaking of your thighs. 

Freeing his hands, he finds your legs again, if only to hold you down to ride out your climax, combating how badly your sensitive body is trying to pull away, just slightly. The work he’s putting in on your pussy is paying off tenfold when you tremble and shake above him. Unable to move from the vice grip he has on your legs, you have no choice but to cry out and let him lap at you, drink you up until you're overstimulated and begging him to stop. 

Limp and satiated, you easily fall into his arms as he moves up between you and the couch, pulling you into his lap. Your head lolls forward has he grabs your cheeks to look at you “Y’feel good baby? Y’feel like a Queen?” 

You nod, dazed but eager and happy as he lifts you and stands. Legs wrapping around his hips while he peppers you with kisses that taste like your own pleasure, he carries you down the hallway to his room. 

Kicking open the door, he stalks over to his bed and tosses you onto it without a second thought.  Looking up at him with big doe eyes, he knows he’s done for. He can’t move fast enough as he loosened his belt and tugs down his pants. Crawling over you on his bed, he nudges that nose against yours again to get your attention. “You wanna? We don’t have to y’know?”

“Steve Harrington, I want to so bad, I’m gonna make you forget your name.” 

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnrichardpapen @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamngoldrush @middle-of-the-sky @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss @scoopshxrrington @superblysubpar

[insane4fandoms]

Finally, I had a discussion with my dear old moot and practically my other brain, @wouldntyou-liketoknow about me creating a YouTuber ego for their Ego Series that involves the lovely Caliban. And who better to give an alter ego to, than our favorite YouTuber missing in action? CoryxKenshin!! (Praying he arrives soon for us 😔)

Meet Casey Clowes: Private Detective that goes rogue to catch and find the Pentas Family. Casey is a hard working and dedicated young detective who chooses to go solo on his ventures to track down the Pentas Family. He’s similar to Jason Todd skill wise, but just as clumsy and corny as Cory would be.

He’s a very adaptable and fast learner, when knocked down by a failed plan, Casey quickly learns and adjusts to his situation, hence his little accessories he keeps around, from past mistakes he’ll learn on the way as a reminder to himself that he’ll probably die if he makes the same mistake twice.

His relationship with the Mob is somewhat complicated, as they tend to steal each other’s bounty/targets. Since Casey works alone to prevent the Mob to gain any leverage against him with someone, there ends up being some sort of truce, which drags him to be in deeper waters with him gaining more than he bargained for.

That causes different dynamics with the main members, some find him amusing with how persistent and dedicated Casey is with finding them, others look down on him as if he’s just a naive PD rookie who will get himself killed. The respect will come in later when time is due.

And can’t forget his little sidekick, Scout the Beagle! Since Beagle breeds are known to help with investigations just as well as bloodhounds (fact from my moot), it only makes sense for the detective to have one. (Let’s hope he doesn’t go John Wick on someone lol)

Probably forgetting to add a few things, but I’ll be reminded later lol.

@crazy-obsessed-enby @iswmperson @lexusinsannus @sammys-magical-au

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

bound for n.y.c - g. van fleet

a/n: hi everybody! i’m back with a cool 3.6k fic about the one, the only, greta van fleet! i am seeing them at msg next week and am so excited that i just wanted to write a quick fic. please note that there’s no set ship and that it’s sort of implied that reader is in love with all members of the band and all the band members are into reader and NOT EACHOTHER. except maybe sammy and danny. let me know if y’all want anymore of these types of fic, idk maybe it’ll flop. also this is kind of fast paced and i am very sorry for that warnings: kissing, physical touch, mentions of anxiety and stress, complicated love triangles, food mentions, reader has a stepdad and a good relationship with their mom, reader being from ny, i think reader is fully gender neutral with maybe a few feminine traits but no real descriptors. also reader has tattoos and mentions of a dog that is no longer with us! no use of y/n, one mention of drugs, a bunch of references to sex, and cursing :0 word count: 3.6k summary: as tour manager, it's your job to get the boys to new york city, your home town. just don't fall in love with them, or anything. now playing: runway blues – greta van fleet

Being tour manager for America’s favorite Led Zeplin cover band, or at least, that’s what your judgmental bitch of a landlord called them once, was surprisingly difficult.

You were constantly running around after the four of them, feeling often more like a nanny than a tour manager. Especially at first. You had started meeting with them a few weeks before their World Starcatcher tour had begun, where you wore these professional, stuffy outfits. They had been referred to you by their makeup artist, who you had known from when you were an assistant to the tour manager of Phoebe Bridgers’ 2022 reunion tour.

You had been working for a producer when you got the call. Truthfully, you missed touring. It was a great way to see different parts of the country and the world, and you thrived in the chaotic environment. And you had heard of Greta Van Fleet, mostly from your grandfather, who was a huge classic rock fan, and always exploring new music via his iPad.

But you started out rather cooperating with them, wearing these stuffy outfits—Mostly long button ups and pencil skirts, while the boys showed up in comfortable casual clothes, always joking about you having to loosen up a bit.

And one notoriously hot day in early July, you showed up in shorts and a muscle tee to meet with them to go over the final dates of the tour before you all gave your go ahead to the social media manager.

You didn’t do much talking about the tour that meeting, opting instead to answer questions about your tattoos, your taste in music, your life to this point. And in exchange, they gave you pieces of themselves.

“I’m from New York,” You had answered over some late afternoon drinks. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, So I’m excited to see my family when we’re there.”

Josh’s fingers traced your upper arm, over a tattoo of your long-gone dog. “Will we get to meet this little guy?” He asks.

You only chuckled, “No, this one died while I was in college. Best dog I ever had.” You said solemnly.

And that was it. One comment about your dog and the boys were hooked on you forever. And when the tour started, you only grew closer— Sharing with them parts of your childhood, Jake teaching you the very basics of guitar, Josh taking shots with you before shows, Danny bringing you coffee to cope with those shots the next morning, and Sam holding your hand when he’s anxious, or when you’re anxious—or both.

So, by the time you make it to the boys’ first show at the Garden, you’ve developed a routine.

The bus leaves by seven a.m. from the hotel in D.C. to get to New York by nine, nine-thirty-ish. You’re craving a sausage, egg, and cheese on a bagel from your favorite deli near where your mom lives, about an hour outside of the city.

So, you wake Jake up first, as he takes the longest to really wake up, and you’re sure you’ll have to shake him awake at least twice before he really gets up for the day. Then, you go to make sure Josh is up, and hear his shower going by the time you get to it. Good.

Then, you head to Sam, who is snoring away with Rosie. You almost don’t have the heart to wake him up. Almost. But Rosie senses your presence and stands up in bed, starting to lick his face. He groans, mumbling a soft, “I’m up, Rose, I know.” You feel good when you head over to Danny.

But thankfully, he’s already up. He’s in bed, writing in his notebook when you get there, sipping his coffee and all packed up for the road. His hair is tied up in a bun, and you’re entirely grateful that he’s so good at this whole thing.

Usually, you don’t need to wake each of them up, but every few shows, the five of you, as well as other crew members, indulge in the after party. And last night was your turn to be the D.R.O. Designated responsible one.

Eventually, you get all four of them downstairs and on the bus, no real difficulties. You all climb onto the bus and begin the drive to your home state. And you can hardly take the anticipation. Seeing your family again, visiting your favorite spots, and getting a homecooked meal was keeping you going. You had moved to California for school, before traveling on a few tours, and then settling for about a year in Nashville. But you ached for New York.

While your boys busied themselves with talk, games, and music, you stared out the window, biting your thumb and ignoring the reruns of Daredevil that played on your laptop in front of you. And apparently, you were bouncing your leg intensely, because the only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was Rosie’s head on your thigh to relax you.

You scratched her head, sighing as you closed your computer, before glancing up to the boys, who had gone suspiciously quiet.

“What?” you asked, giving them a concerned look.

“You know we’ll make it to New York, right?” Sam asked, “You’ll be there soon.” He said, holding your hand, just like he always did when you were anxious.

“I know, I’m just—I miss home. And I love touring, and usually I’m never like this, but when I realized I’d be seeing my mom after months, I just... It made me start focusing a lot more on the fact that I miss it.”

You knew they’d get it. Michigan had been their home for years, and although they loved Nashville just like you did, you knew they left a part of themselves in Frankenmuth, just as you had in New York.

Danny tossed you a blanket, “Get some sleep, Sugar. You’ll need it.” he said softly. You nodded, too anxious and tired to argue any further than that. You cuddled up to Sam, Rosie finding her way in between your legs to further comfort you.

As you drifted off, you thought about your relationship with them. Things like Sam’s holding your hand and cuddling, Danny’s very often kisses to your forehead, Jake’s gentle hugs from behind, and Josh’s well—Josh’s everything, he’s a very affectionate young man—had been, for the most part, strictly platonic. You had thought about it. Kissing one of them, asking to break the professional lines of your relationship, however blurred those had become.

But it was more than that. Over the past few months of knowing them, it had developed from you getting them from place to place, into a softer, more tender relationship. The relationship you had formed with them was something you had been desperately lacking and needing. You had only realized that you missed it when you got it from them.

You were all real true soulmates.

You woke up to the sound of a loud series of honks and yelling from outside the bus. You peeked out of the window to see people screaming at each other, thousands of people making their way to work, and tall skyscrapers overhead.

“Jesus Christ, it smells like someone died!” Jake complained, as the rest of the boys agreed on the smell being horrid. It made you grin. You were home.

You stretched and pulled out your phone, checking the itinerary for the day that you had written out in your note’s app the night before. And you were right on schedule, since you accounted for traffic getting here. It was around noon, so you decided to head over to the hotel to get settled in before the show.

Except when you got there, the lady at the front desk informed you there were no rooms booked under the name you had given them. Which was insane, because you booked a room months ago knowing how expensive and unpredictable the city was.

So here you were, a show that night, with no hotel room, and a group of hungry twenty-something year olds. You were going to scream. And they could see it on you, your muscles tense, as you struggled to not start shaking.

Josh rested a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb gently against it as he wrapped his other arm around your shoulders. “Deep breathes, Baby. You made that reservation; these guys are just a bunch of fucking fucks.” And it made you laugh, enough to relax you. You took another minute to think, before turning back to the rest of the guys.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We must be at the Garden for soundcheck and costumes, hair, and makeup by five thirty. We’ll go there now, drop off our bags and we can go grab pizza and garlic knots at this spot I know, good and are very cool with service dogs.” You said, unable to think of a scenario where you leave Rosie anywhere except with Sam. “While we’re there, I’ll make a call, since I think I know where we can stay if you guys don’t mind a bit of a drive after the show.” No one objected, they simply got back on the bus as instructed, and headed to enact that plan.

After dropping off your things and making it to the pizza place, you step outside for that call, telling Jake to just order you a soda. The phone rings. Once. Twice. And on the third call, your mom answers, excitedly saying your name.

“Where are you guys? Did you make it to the hotel okay?” she asks, and your face melts at the softness.

“Hey, Mom, we’re in the city, getting some lunch. Listen, the hotel messed up our reservation, and now we’re looking for a new place to stay... I know it’s last minute, but—” And before you can ask it, she cuts you off.

“Well, you five can stay here! We have the guest room, your room and your brother’s room.” She decides. “I’ll cook, do they like sausage and peppers?”

“Mom, you don’t have to, it’s gonna be late when we get in.”

“And you still need to eat. I’ll see you tonight, okay? I love you baby, break a leg tonight.” She advises, even though you aren’t the one preforming.

“Alright, I love you, mom.” You hang up and head back inside, settling into your seat next to Josh, just as the waitress comes back to take your order. “We’ll have a large cheese pizza with half mushrooms, please. And a dozen and a half garlic knots.” You say coolly, not giving the boys a chance at all. You love this restaurant. It’s best you order anyways.

They all stare at you for a few seconds before you smile. “You all get to meet my mom tonight.”

“Don’t you think we should have a couple of dates before we meet your mom?” Danny asks, and it makes you giggle.

“What do you think this is?” You tease.

Lunch goes really well, and after a bit of tourism and some drinks around the city, you make it to Madison Square Garden to get them ready for the show. For a brief few hours, you have a break. Usually, you spend it catching up on some work, having some quiet time, or anything of the sort. But this is their debut at the Madison Square Garden, in your hometown. You feel an obligation to watch the show.

Before the show begins, as Josh and Jake are getting their makeup done, you relax with Sam and Danny on a couch somewhere backstage. When Jake is done, he steals your phone off the table, and holds it up to take a photo of the three of you. Sam and Danny lean in and each kiss one of your cheeks, and it makes you roll your eyes for a second before you smile at the camera, letting them be all lovely dovey and affectionate, like a bunch of freaks. Your freaks.  

When the show starts, you watch from the sidelines, cheering for them and generally enjoying the show, because you just know how important this is for them. And you eat it right up, watching your boys perform at a dream venue for so many artists.

Before they start Highway Tune, Josh starts speaking to the crowd. “This is a very special show for us. Our debut at The Garden. The Garden, how about that?” He hums. “And we’re also playing in our tour manager’s hometown... So, we have some special surprises for you in their honor.” The crowd goes wild, and your face flushes, giggling at the idea of them performing a special show just for you.

The show goes by quicker than you would like it to, because you’re enjoying it too much. And you’re really understanding suddenly why so many people are down bad for them online. They look really fucking good. When they get off stage, you just want to cling onto them or make out with them or worse, and then they go back on for the encore and it leaves you longing, wanting for more.

What the fuck is happening to you?

You get caught up in this feeling to the point where the next hour or two—Waiting for the crowds to clear out, for them to get undressed, for the bus to get there—fly by, and before you know it, you’re in the bus again, heading to your moms. Josh lays his head on your lap, and Sam has found himself cuddled up against you. Danny is leaning against Jake across from you, and Jake is just staring at you. He has a familiar look in his eyes, and you just stare back.

When you make it to your home, while all the houses are dark and quiet, the kitchen and living room light is on when you make it to your home. The bus driver has family in the area, so he’ll stay with them for the night, and pick you up early on Thursday Morning, giving you all a break from the crazy travel days.

Your mom is in the kitchen when you come in, having late night coffee and tea with your stepdad. She hears you come in and gets excited, greeting you all at the door. She pulls you in for a hug and a kiss, holding onto you for a little while, just excited to see you. When she pulls away, she grins at the boys.

“And who are these lovely young men?” she asks, teasingly.

In a deadpan voice, you respond, “The cokehead rockstars I’ve been traveling with. I’m their groupie.” You say, and she scoffs at your sarcasm.

Josh smiles, “That’s us, Baby!” He opens his arms to your mom, and she gladly hugs him as a greeting, despite this being their first meeting. And there it is again, that aching feeling you had, when you watched them perform tonight, the same feeling that followed you home. After hugs and introductions, you’re all at the dinner table, gobbling down the dinner your mom made for you. You can almost cry, enjoying the taste of her cooking after months without it.

And the boys enjoy it too, loving a filling meal after a busy show. When you have all finished eating, you make your way up to your respective rooms. You stick Danny and Sam in the guest room, Jake sleeps in your brother’s room, and Josh in your bed, with you. You could almost die.

You take out your earrings and then you lay down. Your arms are exposed, showing off the tattoos you have once more. Josh sleeps in his boxers and a tee shirt, even though your room is chilly. He lays next to you and begins tracing his fingers over your tattoos.

“What’s this one?” he asks, tracing over a ghost that’s on your forearm, right above your elbow.

“Got it during the final show of Phoebe’s tour. She has a similar one somewhere, and I guess it was my way of commemorating the tour.” You explain. He hums, and moves to a different one, asking you the origin of that one. This goes on for a while, before you kiss his palm and tell him to get some sleep.

He falls asleep quickly, and you just stare at him through the darkness. ‘Are you dreaming of me?’ You want to ask, a hand reaching out to run your hands through those vicious curls. Before you know what, you’re doing, you cuddle up to him, laying your head on his chest. When you feel his arms wrapped around you, you begin to drift off, confident that you did not overstep any boundaries.

When the morning strikes, you get up and realize Josh is still asleep. You wiggle out of his arms and leave the room. You must be lost in thought because you bump flat into someone without even noticing. It’s Danny. His hair is wrapped up in a towel, and he only wears a towel around his waist.  

He reminds you of that one video of Slash from the golden age of Guns N Roses, and it stirs something deep inside of you.

But he just chuckles and kisses your forehead gently. “Hey, sweets.” he says softly, in that raspy morning voice.

“Good morning.” You respond. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything; you don’t have to apologize.” He advises. “See you downstairs.” You take a cold shower just to get out of your own head before heading downstairs, where you meet your mom, Jake, Sam, and Danny laughing and eating French toast, as your stepdad cooks in the kitchen.

You love his French toast, but a pang of disappointment hits you as you think about your sausage, egg and cheese on a bagel, with hashbrowns. You quickly eat to dissipate any of those needs. But you’ve been talking about that sandwich for months, so it haunts you.

The rest of the day, you spend pretty much doing nothing. You nap, lounge, and catch up with your mom. It’s the perfect day. Just you, your mom, and your boys. And of course, Rosie. Your mom makes pulled pork sliders for lunch, and you order Chinese food for dinner. Real, good Long Island Chinese food.

And really, the day is over before you really want It to be. Sam asks you to join him on walking Rosie. You happily oblige, planning on taking him to get ice cream along the way. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you keep your head leant against his shoulder. Rosie trots in front of you happily.

“I could get used to this.” He says suddenly.

“Huh?” It catches you off guard. What does that mean?

“This. The quiet life. Walking my dog in the suburbs...” He says shyly. You get the sense there’s something on the tip of his tongue and you long for him to say it. “I love touring, but these domestic moments... You can’t beat ‘em.” He decides.

You want to kiss him so badly.

Instead, you just hum, and snuggle closer to him, wondering what the hell you’re doing. And that’s a super valid question.

The night goes the same as the last, except you kiss your mom and stepdad goodnight, not wanting them to have to get up in the morning to say goodbye. You suspect your mom will anyways. And she does. As the boys file out of the house, she’s handing them homecooked meals for the road, and you give her one more hug and kiss goodbye, before heading to the bus yourself. The others are on the bus, but Jake stands there, his hands behind his back. You narrow your eyes to him suspiciously.

“You’re an amazing tour manager, you know that?” He says gently.

“Yes, I do. What are you scheming at?” You ask, not totally trusting him.

He just grins as he reveals a brown bag he’s holding, handing it to you. Your confusion only grows as you take the bag and open it only to smell the best thing you have had in months.

A sausage, egg, and cheese on a bagel. With hashbrowns. From your favorite deli.

You almost scream.

“What?!” You gasp, “How did you—”

“I borrowed your mom’s car this morning and got it for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that...”

“Yeah, I did. I meant what I said. You hold us together, and we couldn’t be more grateful. Plus, you’ve been talking about this sandwich for months and—” You don’t let him finish. You kiss him. It’s full of all this pent-up passion you’ve held in, and Jake just wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss. He wanted this just as much as you did, you realized. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you both lean into the kiss, fully enjoying the moment. Then, he pulls away, saying your name quietly.

You don’t know what to say. Then, the bus honks twice, scaring the shit out of you.

“C’mon you two! We got things to do, you sorry shits!” Josh yells. You can only laugh before you both climb onto the bus. Now, a new lust has overcome you. The lust for the sandwich you hold in your hands.

The lust for the four boys that surround you doesn’t dissipate either.

But as you head for Boston, your boys in tow, your shift as Greta Van Fleet’s tour manager begins once more, and you resume your position easily.

Until Sam kisses your neck. Then you melt again.

[willbbg]

I need someone to wirte this fic

when sam goes to hell in season 5 instead of dean taking sam’s word literally he drifts slowly to California, driving fast and angry until he stops at the beach and sees a little girl with practically nothing on her, only her long brunette hair blowing with the wind and her fur coat and her mini black skirt with her no straps shirt and her smudged makeup while smoking a cigarette (the story is like detachment 2011) while she make advances on him batting her big doe eyes at him and her pouty lips, he(still) ignores and she curses at him”who even want your limpy d!ck anyway” (i thought this is funny 😭)

With sammy gone he just wants someone to look after.. thier relationship will be complex and complicated and when they finally have s*x i think he will cry and hold her tight and i think he is oh so overprotective and love to hold her and manhandles her(i am projecting sue me)and she is malnourished and tiny due to her homelessness, he loves to point that out and loves to take care of her(SOFT DEAN I LOVE YOU)+he loves to stroke her face and looks longingly at her with love and guilt(ugh my heart), i feel like it’s mix between detachment x lolita x buffalo 66 minus the kidnapping, i am thinking at some point he will yell at her and she would react how layla reacted she wouldn’t freak out she would embrace him instead, like the finale scene on the movie

please make it looooongggg and please no first person ew it would be preferable if it’s dean’s pov

Imagine her while dean is getting out of the impala she’s just there applying lipstick and lipgloss unbothered

[smallbentosakura]

Angel and Sylus Relationship

"It was as if we were old friends... something between us finally clicked. Maybe....just maybe...did I finally fall for him?" - Angel

The relationship between Angel and Sylus is complicated. Both of them bump head a lot, but it's always Sylus who manages to win Angel over with small gifts and expensive clothing.

Maybe expensive dinner or going to the beach, he'll rent out. He'll do it because he doesn't like seeing his kitten mad at him.

Angel falls for it every time but won't admit that she enjoys being pampered. She would even buy him cologne, hinting that she likes it if he wears it around her.

They fight.

They go on missions

They fight again

They make up

Have sex

Goes on more missions (dangerous ones)

Angel goes back to Linkton for work purposes.

Sylus stalks her

Sylus will wear it just because she brought it and will return the favor by corning her into a corner and tease her. Mostly kisses or hugging her tightly while saying sweet things to her. *teasing 290%)

Angel, may not be the same Angel Sylus knows from the past life, but he does adore her and protects her at all cost. He will send Mephisto to spy on her while she's on her missions fighting wanderers. He will call to check in with her.

Angel will call him during the night if she can't sleep and asks for him to stay on the phone until she falls asleep.

He doesn't hangs up. From time to time, he will comment on her beauty and tell her how much she brings joy in his dangerously life. Angel, at some point, pretend that she's sleep so she can hear his confessions. (though he already confessed before but this time he values her more than anything)

The tables will turn, she's the one finally confessing to a sleeping Sylus how much she wants to be with him. (he's obviously pretending to sleep)

Angel will not confess her feelings to Sylus directly. She keeps to herself and tries to bury those feelings in her heart. Deep down, she wants her but for the sake of her, she supress those feelings.

Throughout the months going back to Linkton to N109 Zone, the relationships between them soften ups.

2 years later, Angel gives birth to Sylu's daughter, Sammie.

Her evol, Healing.

After the birth of their child, Angel finally understood Sylus. She finally accepted him for who he was and valued him.

That is all I got. Have fun with that information.

Even though they had previous lives together in different loops and Sylus knew her so well, she accepted the fact that her life here was worth being with Sylus and hope nothing could take away for that.

"I accepted that I don't have my memories, and those strange dreams remain fuzzy and confusing. He keeps me in the dark....I guess I'm fine with that." - Angel

[i-have-no-idea-for-name]

Ok, so I really want to make a bestie for Amy and I was thinking about Goldie and Sammy's child but I don't know if that should be a boy or a girl 'couse if that was a girl, Amy could have a bestie that she could treat like a sister and they could be like "GIRL POWER" or if that was a boy, it would be cute if they had Dev/Hazel relationship so that could be friends to lovers and I really like that kind of ship 'couse like I'm doing this to ALL OF MY FANKIDS XDDDD (like with my dhmis babies Starlight & Wybie and June & Eric or my Thundercats Roar fankids that I didn't show you yet)

So what do you suggest me????

(I don't want to make a non-binary character because even though I have known about the existence of such people for about two years, it is still difficult for me to get used to it because 1. my language does not use they/them pronouns for the singular and I speak Polish and in this language, pronouns are used all the time, not only in the third person but also in the first and second person, i.e. women and men talk about themselves in different forms (complicated, it could take a long time to explain) 2. I am on the autism spectrum and one of my symptoms is it's very VERY difficult for me to adapt to changes :< )

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Sylphanie/Sylph

The awesome @sammys-magical-au is almost always my go-to for brainstorming, whether it's for characters, plots, descriptions, etc. And it seems they were kind enough to remember one of the much more obscure fanegos I've been quietly working on for a while now. Kind enough to even mention her in one of their latest fics!

And that basically kicked certain parts of my brain into gear, so...here we go! I've currently got yet another WIP cooking up, so I figured I should do some clarifying before it's ready for posting.

Much like Caliban and R.D., this uncanny lady is a partner to LeviathanPat! Or...partner-adjacent? As you'll soon see, things are rather complicated. (Go figure, I'm the writer behind aforementioned things, lol)

Although she isn't bound by standard entry rules like L.P. is, she still has her fair share of limitations. The biggest one being that she can only stay on certain planes of existence (such as Earth, for example) for short amounts of time, whereas L.P. can come and go as he pleases.

She may not be as morbid or aggressive as L.P., but it would be a grave mistake to see that as weakness. In fact, she's actually one of very few entities who have a little more power than he does. As for what exactly her power includes...well, you'll just have to wait and see~

She's one of very few entities who can call L.P. by his true name (only half of which is pronounceable by the human tongue, hence why Sol just calls him "Pat").

To say that Sylph and L.P. go way, waaaaay back would be an understatement. (Yes, that was technically a pun. No, I'm not sorry.) The feelings on either side are mutual, though certain views and methods are...not. Admittedly, Sylph sees humans in a way similar to how humans see insects. Little creatures that are sometimes interesting and mildy-entertaining...but not much else. Still, that doesn't mean she condones putting them through twisted experiments just to see what happens to them, L.P.

Now, I wouldn't be me if I didn't pile on the angst, so...While the two of them are on a very similar creature-caliber, Sylph and L.P.'s natures are just so antithetical to each other that they can only afford to be in each other's presence for a limited amount of time. Granted, they can gradually adjust to get closer and make physical contact, but even that is a slow-moving process. In fact, a huge part of their relationship revolved around the two of them searching for a way to overcome this. Unfortunately, surreal shenanigans ended up happening, which ultimately led to...The Incident. Ever since then, they haven't really had a chance to see each other...which just might change in the future. Hint-hint. (Please just be patient with me. Writing is hard, okay?)

Where L.P.'s form relates to darkness, Sylph's form relates to light. That is all...No, actually, I lied. That is NOT all. I'm talking bioluminescence plus-plus. I'm talking so bright it's legitimately kinda painful for mortal eyes to try looking at.

Then again, that light is mainly produced by her internal organs. Some of it sort of functions as her hair, and some of it does leak out into the world through her eyes. And by "eyes" I mean, "a scattering of holes in her skin that can stretch to be wider/longer or even move along as she pleases." (much like L.P., she often has way too many of them).

In fact...for the readers who have watched Jordan Peele's NOPE (and for everyone who hasn't...WHY?! IT'S SUCH AN AMAZING MOVIE! GET OUTTA HERE AND GO WATCH IT NOW!): remember the forms Jean Jacket took in the ending scenes? Well, I'm not saying that Sylph looks exactly like that, because I don't want to plagiarize...but that doesn't mean I can't take inspiration from it.

So, just imagine Sylph's outer skin behaving in sort of a similar way to Jean Jacket's. It can resemble all manner of things from jellyfish to orchid flowers to sheets of billowing cloth. Layers of it basically orbit around all the light she produces, all working together to form a vaguely human-esque shape. Not only that, but her skin also has a sort of opalescent effect to it. It can reflect hints of a variety of colors beyond the bright, pale glow of her internal system.

I usually apologize for rambling...but not today, because it took so much time and patience and experimenting to come up with a description that would be pretty and unsettling at the same time. Thanks again for all your help, Sammy 💞)

Because of that orbiting effect I mentioned, Sylph is also capable of shapeshifting much like L.P. is. The main difference is the fact that Sylph's form technically has visible structure, whereas L.P. is basically a moving, talking void no matter what shape he takes.

@insane4fandoms @inkbedou @the-matpat-ever @b-is-in-the-closet