#not intended as ship but you can tag it i guess

[negativespace06]

hedgehogs!

[aroaceleovaldez]

I was reading a post about CoTG and I realized: Rick has seemingly started to write every character pairing with the exact same dynamic, and he's not good at writing that dynamic and it doesn't make sense for 90% of the characters he writes it for.

It's that very specific dynamic of one half of the pair who is almost aggressive to the other party - "teasing" them constantly/insulting them, affectionately punching/judo flipping/maiming/etc, seemingly almost always exasperated with the other - and said other party usually just accepts this treatment or blanketly views it fondly, and may generally be framed as more incompetent than their partner and a little bit of a doormat (particularly relating to being insulted/teased/etc by their partner).

We start seeing this dynamic in HoO with Percy and Annabeth, as a sort of semi-inconsistent twist on their rivals-to-friends-to-lovers dynamic from the first series. Then the dynamic pattern develops further with Leo and Calypso. Then Magnus and Alex. Then Nico and Will, particularly in TSATS. And now in CoTG, it's Percy and Annabeth again but even more in this direction.

I know people have talked about Nico and Will's relationship over the series rapidly being shoehorned into Percabeth Two™, and it's extremely apparent in TSATS that Rick's doing it on purpose (including directly quoting Percabeth scenes but minorly tweaking them to be Solangelo). But recognizing it as an overarching trend in Rick's later books honestly reminds me a lot of how Rick started trying to apply the "Percy Formula" so-to-speak to nearly every protagonist in HoO (and then try to replicate similar character archetypes with Magnus and Apollo's narrations - moreso Magnus in being jaded and sarcastic, very much trying to be first series Percy. He only sounds unique because Rick failed at making him Percy 2. Apollo is more akin to later-series Percy characterization of being goofy and incompetent. Apollo [and Zeus] even got retconned to give Apollo a more similar backstory to Percy's). Rick seems to have decided that he thinks the audience wants this specific dynamic but 10 times over, except he's not good at writing it the first time because it's a bastardization of the time he did a different thing okay.

And Rick also seems aware of that too! Because he retconned Calypso and Leo at the end of TOA, probably because he realized how absolutely awful it was reading when they were written with that dynamic of Calypso just functionally hating Leo and constantly being aggressive towards him! The only time Rick's actually made the dynamic even semi-successful was with Magnus and Alex, because it actually fits within their characters, their dynamics with each other, and their environment. Alex beheading Magnus on the regular works out fine because there are no repercussions to that in Valhalla, Magnus will be fine, so it does genuinely come off as humorous. And Alex has been effectively established to be abrasive at times but have her genuine feelings shine through regularly, and that meshes well with Magnus' jaded-and-aloof-but-quietly-very-empathetic character. And Magnus has been established to, yes, not be great at combat, particularly compared to Alex. They are the only time that flavor of dynamic in that form was effective and cohesive.

Percabeth is no longer rivals-to-friends-to-lovers badasses on equal levels with shaky pasts who finally found some form of permanence with one another. Now it's super smart doting and affectionately aggressive girlfriend and her silly goofy 50%-of-the-time incompetent boyfriend who she judo flips/pushes off cliffs/etc - but affectionately~! Solangelo is trying to riff off of the early series "Poseidon & Athena are enemies" dynamic that Percabeth had but with Apollo & Hades being "opposites" but learning to accept each other, except it ends up with Will just coming off as a huge asshole and Nico being retconned to a complete doormat about it - when prior to that those characterizations would be completely contrary to their established characters (even just from TOA!). Calypso in HoO gets retconned from her PJO characterization to being snooty and aggressive, and Leo's false persona gets merged into his just normal personality except he just also becomes a doormat but more goofy than Nico with occasional haha-dark/depression-humor! Which Nico also got. Which was also a bastardized Percy trait that got redistributed.

It's exhausting. Rick write more than one relationship dynamic you can do it I promise

[alto-tenure]

(hershel is not recovered from the incident either but angela and henry think he's saying that about them)

[memento-morri-writes]

I've been thinking a lot about how Rook's reunion with his former mentor, Zara, is going to go, and since I can't predict what the DM is going to have her do or say, I can only dwell on what I know is going to happen. Which happens to include taking off the illusion ring that's been hiding his injuries from her. So have a snippet of the description I have planned for that moment:

tw for description of (mostly healed) injuries

He hesitates, twisting a ring on his finger. Looking at it more closely, she can tell it’s very finely crafted, and must have been very expensive. A large emerald is set into the band. Rook sighs, and pulls the ring off his finger in one quick motion.  Immediately she’s struck by the difference in his appearance as the illusion melts away. He looks awful. His warm, healthy skin fades to a dull and sickly grey. There’s huge bags under his deeply sunken eyes, and his cheeks are hollowed, as though they have been carved out by an overeager sculptor. He looks like he’s recently risen from the grave.  While he was thin before, now she can see his ribs under the skin, and his collarbones are exaggeratedly pronounce. Thin white lines left by dozens upon dozens of recently healed cuts are scattered across his body. On top of that, faded bruises cover most of his visible skin, a mottled mosaic of purple and yellow. They’re clearly days, maybe weeks old, and she can only begin to imagine what they must have looked like when fresh. Bandages are barely visible under his shirt, wrapping around his back, hinting at even more injuries.

[finch-the-foolish]

A story based on @black-rose-events's recent prompt list! This one is day two, because I forgot a) February has in fact kicked off, and b) we are two days in.

Tw/Cw for death, murder, and guns

-----

Reporter stared at the papers they'd found in Detective’s office, illuminated by the soft, yellowed glow of his lamp. It was dark outside, by now, the clock on the wall keeping a steady pulse as Reporter read. This.. this was big. Evidence for every murder they'd been tracking, lists of names struck through in red, pictures of faces that had been painted in the news weeks earlier. The dead. Those responsible. At least, that's how it had seemed.

Until now. There was more blood than just that of the convicted on Detective’s hands, and they couldn't let that go now. Was being here technically illegal? Most likely. Was what Detective had done the same? Absolutely. They had to get this to headquarters. They had to let the authorities know. They had to-

Reporter looked up, eyes wide against a shock of darkness as the door opened.

“[Reporter]. Fancy seeing you here. What brings you to my office? My desks? My documents?” Detective tilted his head, one hand silently shutting the door, locking it with a soft click.

Reporter drew in a breath, clamping down on the panic clawing at their ribs. “I'm here investigating everything you've done, [Detective]. If that even is your name.”

They stood, still clutching the paper they'd been reading, and Detective approached closer, gait still as nonchalant as ever.

Detective smiled. “What I've done? What might that be? Help the people? End countless villains?”

“Innocent lives,” Reporter snapped back. “They were innocents, and you know that damn well. It's all here. And I'm not letting you get away with any of it.”

His smile only widened, a sharp thing, malicious, painted hauntingly by the lamp's glow, as he leaned against the desk.

“Really? All the evidence? How.. fortunate.” Detective glanced down at the papers, before returning his gaze to Reporter. They could barely resist the urge to shudder, to flee, before they too found a knife in their back, a bullet in their chest.

Steeling their gaze, they nodded. “Everything I need to make sure you never hurt anyone again. Is that clear enough for you?”

Detective paused for a moment, a laugh filling the empty space, far too light, far too familiar for it to be that of a murderer. Detective of all people. He reached forwards, grabbing Reporter’s shoulder with a shockingly strong grip, pulling them forwards to the desk.

“Now, [Reporter], my dear friend, I have a story for you. A.. piece of information, if you will.” His voice was low, fringes of that friendliness Reporter had so long known creeping back with the words.

“A.. a story?” they asked, voice shaking. That same, awful smile, a face they almost knew, a grin they could almost see against the daylight, against everything they'd known.

Then his Voice hushed, his grasp loosening against their jacket.

“You're right.”

Metal pressed against their stomach, cold turning harsh, burning, as pain ripped through their senses and skin alike. Reporter screamed, the sound cut off as that same blinding agony cut through the air, their intestines, sending them stumbling back to the wall behind. They crumpled, crimson staining the bookshelves at their back, their clothes nearly masking the shade.

Detective stared at them, face still twisted with some strange, wretched joy. “It was lovely working with you, [Reporter]. You were always my favourite. I pray the others can solve your unfortunate demise.”

Then, hands steady, he raised the gun to Reporter’s gaze. And, smiling, he pulled the trigger.

[generic-sonic-fan]

Sonic and Shadow have each other's phone numbers, but the agreement is that calling is exclusively for world-ending emergencies, and texting is only for swapping book recommendations and guitar-playing tips

[johnbly]

WIP game!

i was tagged by @tortoisesshells ✨

so i have two fics going one rn: 1) in the boat purgatory in at world's end, james comes across gov swann and the two have a final conversation together (not using that for this since i haven't done too much but something to look forward to i guess) and 2) bolt's "what if james had a dragon" fic and subsequent discussions and questions has me now doing a "what if hornblower had a dragon" fic so here is an excerpt from that:

“Who are you?”  The dragonet is speaking French, and internally Hornblower swears. Is French the only language the creature knows? It’s no issue for him, of course, but how can it be expected to be a British dragon if it only knows French? “Captain Horatio Hornblower, most recently of the HMS Sutherland,” he replies, also in French – awkwardly so, because it’s a ridiculously formal introduction to make to a dragon, but in light of never having conversed with one before he’s fallen back on the old habit of saying more than is necessary. “That is not a French name,” the dragon says. In English. “Non – no, it is not. You speak English, then?” “I do.” Pause. “That was a long introduction. I hope you don’t want me to use it whenever I want to call on you?” The idea of a dragon wanting to call on him at all is no less ridiculous than having a conversation with one, but it – he? The voice is deep – has a point. “You can call me 'Hornblower',” he says.

i don't remember who all is writing things that hasn't already been tagged, so if you see this and are a writer, feel free to share!

[muttakutagawa]

still funny to me that dazai anon found me on twitter, made a "weh weh, dazai would never fall in love with chuuya" post @ me and then seemingly deleted it when i didnt respond (i could only find it in my notifs but not on their page) like bestie you're barking up the wrong tree i hope those bitches never date lmao youre literally trying to use skk not being canon to upset someone who doesnt like the ship pffft

[discordantwords]

Thank you so much for the tag @therealsaintscully!

How many works do you have on ao3? 48! 30 for BBC Sherlock and 18 for The X-Files.

What’s your total word count? 924,659 (whoa, that's a lot of words)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? (Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea White Knight Incidents with Dogs, Curious and Otherwise Another Auld Lang Syne The Dead Detective

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I try to. I'm not always as on top of it as I intend to be. I find comments tremendously meaningful and I at times get emotional while reading them. They are important to me. I reread them often.

I often fear that I'm a poor conversationalist and overthink my responses, which can tend to freeze me up.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Most of my long fics have happy endings.

The Pillar upon Which England Rests is my ode to Mrs. Hudson. As she and John are grieving Sherlock's fall, she tells John all about how she and Sherlock first met. I don't think of it as a particularly sad story, but I suppose that ending counts as angsty, as Sherlock's eventual return is not addressed in the story.

I guess the shorter, more horrorish ones have angsty (or at least uneasy) endings.

Nothing Happened in Belarus has S4 Sherlock, in the throes of his breakdown, somehow briefly traveling through time and encountering S1 John, who cares for him. It's a brief reprieve for him in the midst of a personal hell, but there is no resolution. When he returns to his own time, he is still forced to face what's coming next.

At the end of Leaves, Sherlock and John have either successfully defeated the bloodthirsty plant that has invaded their flat, or they're being digested by it. I leave that decision up to the reader. :)

The Web has Sherlock returned from his time away and reunited with John, but there is a part of him that will always remain haunted and deeply paranoid.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Most of them, heh. I like to leave my characters in a good place after putting them through hell.

I guess I'd have to say White Knight? I still get a little giddy when I think about the way Sherlock proposes at the end of that one, and how happy and free they both are after the crushing weight of misunderstandings and grief has fallen away.

Whirlwind has a pretty joyful ending, too.

Do you write crossovers?

I haven't written a crossover, but I have done a few fusion fics. The Dead Detective is a fusion with Jumpin' Jack Flash. Whirlwind is a fusion with Twister. Out There is a fusion with The X-Files.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really. Most responses on AO3 have been warm and supportive. I have gotten a few unnecessarily vicious comments on some of my ficlets here on Tumblr, but I do my best to ignore those.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Most of my smut tends to be of the R-rated variety, because I'm frankly just not very good at writing it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, sort of, but I don't believe it was done maliciously and I don't intend to call attention to it.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not. I'm open to the idea, but I honestly don't know if I'm cut out for it. I think my tendency to wing things and my utter lack of a consistent writing schedule would drive a potential writing partner mad.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

Mulder and Scully were my first true fandom love. I love Sherlock and John equally as much, if not more.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

There are quite a few WIPs on my hard drive that may never see the light of day. As far as posted fics, my Sherlock/Knight Rider fusion probably won't be finished.

What are your writing strengths?

I like to think that I'm pretty good at capturing character mannerisms, and writing from a perspective that lets the reader feel what the POV character is feeling.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm not all that impressed with my smut writing abilities.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I steer clear of it. Although Google translate can be helpful, IMO there are too many opportunities to make embarrassing or inadvertently offensive mistakes.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The X-Files

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I really enjoy the character dynamics between Hannibal/Will in Hannibal and Lestat/Louis in Interview with the Vampire. I think I'd have a harder time getting into their heads than I do with Sherlock and John, so I'll probably just continue admiring them from afar for now.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

This is such a hard question! I'm probably proudest of the work that went into Out There, but I have a huge soft spot for The Pillar upon Which England Rests and (Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea.

If anyone out there would like to share your thoughts on some of the things you've written, please do! I'll also tag @thetimemoves @arwamachine @raina-at @vulpesmellifera @iheardyou @totallysilvergirl @khorazir

[triflesandparsnips]

Lot of takes going around the internets about certain "deaths" in the ofmd season finale, so, uh-- guess it's time for me to try and lose some followers on tumblr dot com with

Some Thoughts on Why I Am Not Particularly Bothered or Concerned about Izzy's Apparent "Death"

Laying the groundwork first...

1. Narratively speaking, Izzy's been a dead man walking since the start of the season. Babe shot himself and got a rebirth-- but he still definitely intended to die. Every minute he was still around was borrowed time.

Did he have to die? Maybe not. I know I could've written a version of the show where he didn't. But then that would be my show-- not theirs. I can't know exactly what themes, bugbears, bête noires, catharsis, or artistic Vibes are driving that writers' room, and until the credits run on the finale of the third season, none of the rest of us can either.

2. Izzy spent the season being in a liminal state-- and there's nothing in the story saying that he can't continue doing that. Izzy spent the season having one foot in one space, one hoof in the other, and himself halfway through the door, a chimera of mirrored things right up to his "death": pirate and ship, hard and soft, old ways and new, etc etc. But "the gravy basket" is a weird little liminal space between life and death, a place that both Ed and Buttons have found (and returned from) before. We don't know where Izzy "is" right now-- he could be there.

(tbh, I wonder how much poor feeling we'd be having about all this if we'd gotten a final tag of a blue-washed Izzy staring down at a bowl of soup while helplessly saying "but this isn't gravy, what the fu--")

3. I think there is an unfortunate belief that "it's not real unless you see the body" is a universal -- or perhaps inarguable -- "fact" of storytelling. But it's not. It's just a bit of narrative shorthand that got popular, and now we're too ready to fall into the trap of believing the inverse is true too-- that if there is a body, then there must therefore have been a "real" death.

This season has spent quite a lot of narrative time and effort telling us that its story is using a different model, with different shorthands; specifically, that magic is real, that there is at least some kind of existence after death, and that the dead can be resurrected.

And that brings me to the meat of why I'm not particularly bothered or concerned about what, at this stage of the story, could still very well be just a minor setback--

4. This whole show, and particularly this season, is a fairy tale. It's a story that works with fairy tale logic and tropes, and it's in conversation with other fairy tales too, ones that the OFMD audience is likely to know well enough to spot their narrative beats in action. So "Pinocchio" gets mentioned a lot? Cool-- the audience applies what is commonly known of that story to this one ("a real boy", the mirror-opposite being a puppet with no nose, etc), and finds some Cool Shit. Then they're primed to keep looking for fairy tales, even unnamed ones, in case there's another little nugget of reward-dopamine for finding a connection.

So the fact that we saw a mermaid? Suddenly, I personally am noticing "Little Mermaid" motifs all over the place. That Ed was in a "sleep like death" -- after fucking around with a spinning wheel -- until his prince came to wake him? Well fuck, man, that's Blackbeard playing "Sleeping Beauty" for us all.

And bringing it all back to a "dead" Izzy Hands... when I add up a "dead" body surrounded by a bunch of laborers mourning the person who nominally kept their living space nice AND who was wanted dead by an authority figure for the crime of being the "better" version of what that figure wanted to be...

...well fuck, idk about the rest of you, but to me that all adds up to Izzy's story being Snow fucking White. Waiting for someone to come pull the bullet poisoned apple from his body so he can live again.

5. This is a second season. Of three. And Izzy Hands is the writer's favorite chewtoy, so there is lots of time, space, and incentive to bring him back. If there's a third season, we have a pile of ways he could be brought back over the course of hours of literal viewing time and possibly months of in-narrative time. That's ages.

And the solutions don't have to be difficult! For instance, we still have canonical hallucinations from Stede-- that's one route. Or fuck it, we could have Izzy's (very solid-looking) ghost be the embodiment of their being haunted by the Sea, that would work too.

And even barring all that-- his grave is right there with our heroes. The ship is out there hunting down his murderer. Even if you're happy he's dead... bad news, friend. He's all over the third season landscape. (uh oh, it's GNU Izzy Hands)

But those are just a few options that leave his body rotting but his character still alive. I happen to think we could all dream a little bigger, darlings. For instance:

A. You cannot tell me that these writers, on this show, with these actors, would not absolutely go all in on a zombie-esque hand thrusting out of the dirt mere hours after burial. Look me in the eyes and tell me Con O'Neill wouldn't pull off an entire digging-out scene only to end with himself panting beside the hole, looking around, hearing Ed and Stede being weird in their haunted hut, and wearily say, "Are you fucking kidding me."

B. Don't like zombies? Want to stay closer to the Snow White vibe AND introduce a love interest for him? One hyphenated word: body-snatcher. Gotta dig those bodies up fresh for the Definitely Historically Accurate anatomists of the time! But oh, says this New Guy, this corpse is-- wow, it's weird that they buried him with a rose and really amazing makeup and a truly extraordinary number of whittled whales, plus what's with that horsey leg grave marker, this guy must've been fucking fascinating, man, I wish I could've met him-- --at which point Izzy's hand shoots out and chokes the guy half to death and the lads come tumbling out of the house and ta da, mission accomplished, Izzy resurrected in 5 minutes or less with his horsey leg conveniently beside him and an entire season for himself and everyone else to Deal With It, amazing, fantastic, no notes from me.

C. Come to think of it, there is genuinely a non-zero chance that the crew just. Fucked up the burial. I mean... even though I was just arguing why we shouldn't see it as Law, we didn't actually see the body. We saw a grave. What did they bury him in? Was it a box? Was it some canvas? Did they definitely pick up the right one when it was time to bury him? Or did they maybe carefully make him an ahistorical safety coffin just in case a cat demon came to bother him and his corpse wanted to make a fuss about it, y'know, very common, could happen to anyone, and Frenchie just so happens to have Blackbeard's old collar bell right here--

6. Here's the bottom line, imo: The only thing that would keep Izzy really actually dead and completely removed from the story is a lack of narrative time and space-- and we have plenty of both. Stories are like Lego. If you've got enough time and you're willing to play with pieces from a whole lotta different sets, it's not hard to put the same elements together in different ways to get new, exciting configurations. It's why I'm actually rubbish at predicting exact details of stuff-- there are a lot of ways something could go, there are infinite doors out of problems the narrative seems to throw at us, and no two people will come up with the same thing because we're all different.

That, to me, is one of the big ways I personally enjoy and engage with stories. And it's why I genuinely can't be fussed about Izzy's death, not when we're only two-thirds through the story as a whole; observing someone setup and then try and execute a complicated narrative trick is my jam.

But my way of engaging with all this is by no means the best or only way. How we all interact with art, and what speaks to us, is extremely personal. If how this season and Izzy's death went just didn't work for you, that's okay. I'm sorry it wasn't the story you wanted it to be. That blows.

I just know I can't say yet that it didn't work for me. I won't know until I can take in the entire picture, just as I can't judge a finished Lego set by the one piece I step on midway through construction. I can see different ways Izzy's death/rebirth could absolutely work, but will the writer manage it? I dunno.

But I'm willing to wait and see if the stupid puppet can pull it off.

[bitchslapblastoids]

When you say the "purity side of the phandom" who are you referring to? Because i do not see it

Hi! I’m guessing you’re referring to my tag on this post?

There’s a faction of the fandom that is pretty vocal about their distaste for people shipping dnp, sexualizing them, etc. From my perspective, it seems to be because these people want to be gold-star fans in the eyes of deppy (or the eyes of one another, honestly; it feels very performative) and are concerned about Dan and Phil seeing our online activities and then, idk, leaving the internet. (They seem to think hiatus years were in response to fandom activities which is just patently false)

I think people can and should approach fandom however they please. It’s a space by the people for the people, and while it is unique to have a fandom built around two people who are very tapped in to the activities of their audience, i am strongly of the belief that Dan and Phil don’t give a fucckkk what we’re posting these days so long as it doesn’t put them/loved ones at risk. If someone wants to have a squeaky clean phandom experience, that’s great for them! I just don’t like them using that as a reason to shame people and try to control how others engage in fandom (or bully them off of entire platforms ahem).

There was a whole recent situation on twitter that birthed kind of a meme of twitter vs tumblr and the different phandom experiences you’d get on either of those. Obviously that’s silly, because no platform is a monolith, but there does seem to be a much higher rate of call-out culture on twitter, shaming other users, and widespread concern about d&p seeing their posts, judging them, and responding negatively to them, whereas tumblr is definitely more laissez faire. There’s also an age dynamic happening here, and the conversation frequently dips into discussing the presence of minors in fandom. I elaborate more on it all here, and here and here and here.

Hope this answer wasn’t more than you bargained for bc it was definitely longer than I intended! 😬

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence" Pt 10

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: age gap, boarding school au, a/b/o, dub-con/non-con, spanking, feminization, dumbification, sexism, misogyny, prostate milking, discipline, D/s elements, hurt/comfort, mentions of past self-harm, predatory behavior, teacher/student, bathroom use control, humiliation, omorashi

Summary: Bucky Barnes is young, confused, and conflicted—a real "rebel without a cause" type. His parents ship him off to Steve's reform school to help him get straightened out into a "proper young omega."

Wait! I haven't read an earlier part of this fic! Story Masterlist

Part 10 Expedient Action

Steve watches as the kid’s lower lip trembles, his stubborn little cleft chin moving along with it, and he hums sadly. “Do you remember the last time you were happy, Bucky?”

The boy shrugs, won’t meet his eyes. “Dunno,” he eventually says.

Steve nods, having expected as much. Slowly, he curls his fingers over the top of the towel at Bucky’s waist. Bucky’s stomach sucks in with tension when he realizes that Steve intends to pull the towel off him, but he makes no move to try and stop it. Steve lets it fall to the floor, then looks at Bucky’s lap, eyes briefly considering the state of the omega’s rigid little prick, before sliding to the side to look at his leg. Sadness fills him again at seeing them, even though he’d known they were there.

Right along the top of Bucky’s left thigh are a series of pale lines. Scars, lined up in a tidy little row that begins at his hipbone and ends several inches before the knee. Most are white, but some are pink, still in various stages of healing from the recent past. Months old, but not years. Steve grabs Bucky’s hands when he tries to cover himself. “It’s okay, Buck. You’re not in trouble.”

Bucky whines and tugs his hands away. “Leave me alone,” he groans, sounding miserable. Steve has no doubt that he is, though that doesn’t mean that he’s not aroused, as well. Steve could smell his slick as soon as he’d gotten out of the shower, and it’s only intensified since then. Understandable, after what they’d witnessed from the doorway of Parker’s room. (Steve really needs to give Natasha a good bonus this semester. That woman knows how to get a task done.)

With the towel discarded, Bucky’s scent is rich and unimpeded, that pleasant mix of loamy earth and spiced verbena combining to arouse Steve’s senses. Virtually all omegas smell nice at bare minimum. Even ones pregnant by other alphas still smell good, if not particularly arousing. But again, he’s reminded that the notes of Bucky’s scent stand out to him more than what he’s accustomed to, pulling at all the baser instincts that live in the back of his brain.

He tries his best not to let his enjoyment of it show, but there’s only so much a man can do. He’s wearing his own special brand of compression underwear at the moment. Made for alphas, thank god, or else there’d be a very different situation at the front of his slacks right now. The bloody things are tight as fuck, but they do a good job at concealing all but the most aggressive of boners. And for an alpha who spends his days surrounded by hundreds of teenaged omegas reaching the peak of their sexual maturity, they are a godsend.

Steve rests his hand on Bucky’s leg, right over the scars. Oh Sweetheart, he thinks mournfully. Who did this to you? He lets his thumb trace one silvery-thin line, probably one of the oldest, and hushes Bucky’s whimper when it comes. “When did you start doing this, Honey?” he asks, being careful to keep his voice as gentle and as coaxing as he can. “Shh. It’s okay.”  Poor thing’s just embarrassed as all get-out, and Steve isn’t trying to scold him. “When, Bucky?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs and won’t meet Steve’s eyes. “Couple’a years ago, I guess. I don’t do it anymore. Not … not much.”

“That makes sense,” Steve observes. He’s baiting Bucky, and it works.

The kid peeks up at him. “It does?”

“Sure. Your heats mature at about fifteen, sixteen. That’s when it gets harder. Without a safe and consistent partner with you each cycle, you’re not going to be very fulfilled.” He watches as Bucky frowns down at his lap and thinks about that. “Has that been your experience?” he prods gently. “Feeling unfulfilled?”

“I … no.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Want to try saying that like you mean it?”

Bucky grimaces. “I mean, I didn’t use to think so. It just was what it was, y’know? Most kids don’t have a heat partner, so I figured I was just bein’ oversensitive. I at least had Brock. … Once in a while, anyways.”

“Hm.” 

“I thought that was good,” he says, looking to Steve for confirmation in a way that is pitifully naïve. “Nobody else pairs. Unless they’re dating. And even then, people have lives. They can’t just stop everything for a week every single month. That’d be ridiculous.”

“Right,” Steve says, hating this. He wants to growl and bundle Bucky up and make him see how neglected he’s been, how he deserves so much more. “You felt like you had to make due on your own.”

“Yeah. Sometimes I could get a hookup, at least for the second day of my heat. Those are usually the worst.” Bucky looks away, evasive. “And … I tried some things.”

“Suppressants?”

“Yeah. But before I figured out how to get a doctor to prescribe ‘em, I used to steal Ransom’s credit card to buy some of those supplements you see in the infomercials. You know: with the testimonials and everything? People saying how good they work?”

“How well they work,” Steve corrects under his breath. “Those are expensive.”

“Hundred and fifty bucks plus shipping, every month,” Bucky confirms. “Well, at least until Ransom noticed it on his credit card statement.” He colors a little and admits, “I also tried those things they sell over the counter at the pharmacy. Those, erm, those things that you can take. That you stick up your—”

“I’m familiar,” Steve drawls. “So, you put multiple things in your body without knowing what was in them.”

“Well I figured they couldn’t sell ‘em on tv if it wasn’t safe,” Bucky defends. “And besides, everybody does it.”

“Not exactly winning me over, here, kid.”

“Look, you don’t understand!” he snaps. “You’re alpha. You don’t get it. Heats are stupid, they're not fun. They just get in everybody’s way, and these products help. They help quality of life. They help make it less of a problem.”

Steve holds back the actual growl that wants to come at hearing such a tragic pile of tripe. “Did you ever stop to wonder why it’s always your natural biology that gets labeled as the ‘problem’, hm? Always something to be fixed, rather than something you’re entitled to? Something you deserve to have accommodated?”

Bucky blinks a few times in a row, mouth working. “Well … no. That’s just how it is.”

“Oh is it?”

“It is if you want to make it anywhere in life. Get into a good school, get a good job, work your way up at some company.” He blithely rattles off the examples, speaking like this is all pre-determined truth, and Steve is the only idiot who hasn’t been clued in. “People won’t hire you if you need all that time off of work and stuff. You’ve got to make yourself as good as a beta employee, at least. Otherwise nobody’ll hire you.”

Steve nods solemnly. “Yeah, well that’s where I take issue. I think omega rights—true omega rights—demand that society value omegas for what they naturally are. And that means allowing them the space and time they need for their cycles, not treating it as something inconvenient, not expecting people to use a bunch of drugs to try and force themselves into some, some …” He makes a frustrated gesture. “Some employable box.”

“Well yeah, I guess. But—”

“Omegas deserve to have their contributions as mothers and homemakers valued, too,” Steve asserts, then narrows his eyes at Bucky when the kid rolls his eyes. “You scoff, but the omegas who consistently rank highest in self-reported life satisfaction are those who choose to take on domestic roles. The only thing career omegas consistently rank highest on is level of  antidepressant usage. It’s a trend we’ve seen increasing ever since the seventies.”

“Right,” Bucky snaps. “Back in the good old days when we didn’t have any rights.”

“That’s not true,” Steve says sternly. “Omegas had all the same rights as other designations, it was culture that was different. There was a place carved out in society for them. Omegas’ natural affinities were valued. Those who did work were able to find jobs that fit their lifestyles and needs. Now, employers expect you to change yourself for the job, just like you said.” He shakes his head sadly. “One could make the argument that that’s equality, but it sure as hell ain’t fair. Betas and alphas have society shaped to fit their needs, and omegas simply have to try and force themselves into difficult spaces just to get by. I don’t think it’s right that the way we do things is geared towards what alphas and betas naturally need, and nothing that’s naturally omega is accommodated for anymore. Do you?”

Bucky doesn’t answer, but his posture slumps with uncertainty the more he considers what's being said.

Steve softens his tone to something more gentle. “That’s why I think the erasure of gender roles is unhealthy, Buck. Not because I’m a sexist who hates omegas and doesn’t want them to be able to do anything, but because I think you guys deserve so much better. So much more.” He watches Bucky’s face, the growing doubt in his features, and figures it’s time to stop with the proselytizing. He's given the kid something to think on. That's good enough for now. It is bedtime, after all. “Just think on it a bit,” he advises kindly. “You’ve had a lot of experiences, but there’s still a lot for you to learn. Try and do it with an open mind, okay? You might come to see one or two things a little differently.”

Bucky grumbles unhappily, but Steve can tell when his point is getting through. Most students start to come around to considering the school's curricular viewpoint by the one week mark. After a week of constant offers to have his needs fulfilled—and constant refusal of those offers—it’s pretty obvious that Bucky is nearing the turning point. Steve decides to end this little talk on a positive note. He gives him one final pat on his legs. “Okay, Hon. Time for bed.” He stands up and observes the way that Bucky seems to physically stall, unable to quickly process Steve’s sudden departure. 

“You’re leaving?” he blurts.

Steve offers him a gentle smile. “Would you like for me to scent anything? Maybe a blanket or a pillow?” Right now there’s only a sheet and a single, thin blanket on the bed. He thumbs backward at the room’s cabinet of nesting supplies. “The nurse said you’re mid-cycle. The urge to nest must be waxing rather than waning at this point, yeah?”

Bucky seems surprised by the offer, but after a moment he nods shyly. “Maybe an extra blanket wouldn’t be so bad.”

Steve turns and goes to grab a blanket out of the cabinet and scent it, taking Bucky’s compliance as a significant win. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and is doubly pleased when Bucky makes no snippy remark at the gendered praise. He doesn’t face Bucky as he scents the top edge of the blanket with his wrist and then his neck. He doesn’t want to push his luck and make the boy so embarrassed that he’ll revert back to his pattern of disrespectful misbehavior. It’s always a balancing act, with new students, but once you get the right combination of domination, kindness, and familiarity? That's when things begin to smooth out.

Bucky takes the blanket with a bashful, “Thank you,” when Steve hands it over, and Steve gives him a quiet rumble of praise for being polite.

“You’re welcome, Honey.” Bucky moves like he’ll get under the blankets, but Steve stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “Hang on a sec. You forgetting something?” Bucky blinks vacantly up at him, and Steve can’t help but chuckle. “We don’t sleep naked, do we?” 

Bucky looks back down at himself, like he’d forgotten he was naked in the first place. “Oh.”

Steve fetches him a pair of underwear from the room’s dresser. The students’ nighttime briefs aren’t dissimilar to what they wear under their uniforms during the day, but they consist of one piece rather than two, and the padding’s a bit more … thorough, meant to help deter wandering hands at night. Steve finds himself unable to look away as Bucky puts them on, sliding them up his legs with shaky fingers and whimpering near subvocally when his leaking prick gets covered up by the padding. His hands fist the bedsheets at either side of his hips, and for a second his face gets red and his eyes go unfocused.

Oh Jesus. Steve grinds his teeth at the display, unhappy to feel his own cock pulsing insistently against the seam of his slacks. Bucky’s tortured, straining efforts to not touch himself are near-pornographic to watch, making that warm, sexual urge swirl up harder in Steve’s belly than before. He shifts in place and flexes his hands as he tries to think of something to counter the pulsing in his dick—picturing his grandparents fucking is his usual failsafe, in times like this. He doesn’t want his scent to grow so strong that it affects Bucky right now. Not when they’re ending the night on such a positive note. 

The thought of Nana and Pawpaw doing the nasty does the trick, and Steve retreats to the doorway. He hums in approval as he watches Bucky climb into bed and get settled. He nests only the barest bit, almost tentatively, tucking the scented end of the blanket up alongside his pillow and draping the rest of it over his body. He curls up on his side and nuzzles his cheek against the pillow. Steve waits with his hand poised to flip the light switch. “You have everything you need?” he checks, giving Bucky one final chance to be honest about his needs.

But he simply tucks his face into the scented blanket and closes his eyes. “Uh huh.” His still-damp hair is stark against the white pillowcase, and Steve’s heart gives a fond twinge at the sight.

It does dry curly.

“Okay,” he says quietly. He flicks the lights off, knowing that by tomorrow morning, he’ll have a punishable offense to address with the boy. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

“… Night, Steve.”

Despite the excellent performance of composure that he’s managed to maintain with Bucky for the past few hours, all that time with the omega really has taken its toll. Steve is relieved to get back and shut himself away in the confines of his office. It feels like a sanctuary right now. It’s a deep mental and physical relaxation that hits him as soon as he sinks into his desk chair and inhales the professionally filtered, pheromone-free air of the room. 

“Ahh," he sighs, rubbing at his temples. "God save the queen. Fuck."

Compared to other alphas, he’s got excellent control of his reactions and is able to mask a great deal (an invaluable skill when one works with hordes of hormonally-peaking teenagers), but the end of the school day always provides a bit of relief—today more than most.

He opens his laptop and leaves it to boot up while he goes over over to pour himself a drink. He pulls out one of the cork-coated lowballs that he keeps in the freezer (because he prefers his drinks on the rocks, but whether he likes it or not Peggy’s had an influence on him these past twenty years, and he knows it’s blasphemy to add ice to a 30 year old Scotch). He eyeballs a finger of the liquor—okay, maybe closer to two fingers—and brings it back to his desk to sniff it and swirl it around. 

It’s a vintage that one of Peggy’s relatives gifted them years ago, worth quite a bit of money apparently, and it’s been Steve’s one petty protest amongst the many bigger ones of his soon-to-be ex-wife. He’s only begun making use of it since their divorce proceedings intensified over the summer, with Peggy’s obstinance against fair division of assets reaching damningly selfish levels. Steve never thought of her as someone who’d go for the nerves in a divorce just for the hell of it, and it’s upsetting to see that nastier side exposed. It feels like all his good memories are slowly being tainted by it, made ugly and ruined, like paint thrown over a fine portrait of the woman he’d once admired. Steve’s not a heavy drinker, but he’s nearly made his way through the entire bottle these past few weeks.

At his desk, he peruses current events on his newsfeed and a few academic articles of interest, being sure to sip steadily despite his leanings as a teetotaler. He wants to feel a bit of a buzz by the time he dares to brave his inbox. The little icon tells him that he’s got dozens of unread emails waiting in there. Not unusual for a weekday, but there’s one from Peggy that he purposefully puts off for last. And surprisingly, there’s one email each from the personal accounts of both Tony Stark and Harlan Thrombey.

He clicks on Stark’s first, expecting the email to contain more demands for the accommodations he wants for the upcoming parents’ weekend. Sure enough, Stark doesn’t disappoint, asking Steve to please arrange for a 2-minute slot for one Ms. Pepper Potts to speak during that coming Sunday’s evening ball. It’s during said ball when the school has its traditional slew of scheduled, “spontaneous” rounds of toasts over betrothal announcements. Steve’s happy to agree to a slot for Ms. Potts, just grateful that it won’t be Stark himself making the speech. Thank god for small favors. 

Stark also has a footnote jotted in, as though it’s a nothing, requesting a black Rolls Royce Phantom to pick them up afterwards to take them to their hotel in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. In the distinct manner that Steve’s learned only multi-millionaires ever really have, Tony blithely throws out his specifications for the car’s interior temperature (73 degrees Fahrenheit, precisely), a fully-stocked bar, and a selection of snacks and juice boxes that sounds suspiciously catered to a certain omega's tastes.

Smirking and shaking his head, Steve spends a moment researching the costs of this additional, last-minute amenity. He tacks an extra two grand onto the price and shoots the email back with an inflated invoice that brings him no guilt. Academia is little better than a break-even industry, after all. And besides, Stark can afford it.

Normally, Steve would save any email of Peggy’s for last, but given his growing obsession with interest in Bucky’s case, he decides to save Thrombey’s email for last.

Peggy’s email is also very typical of what Steve’s come to expect from her: curt, concise, and infuriatingly presumptive.

📨Peggy: Asset Divisions Update

Steven, it reads, My solicitor will be in touch after this next weekend with an updated proposal for division of assets. I did not find your last offer acceptable. Mr. Jorgensen is out of the country on account of an emergency this week, which is the reason for the delay. I do apologize and hope you will understand. In the meantime, I look forward to enjoying a pleasant and uncompromised parents’ weekend with our two schools. I’ll be in touch soon, in regards to those preparations. Cordially, Peggy.

Steve sneers at the ‘cordially’. “More like cold as ice,” he grumbles, grabbing the glass of scotch to toss back the last few sips. Parents’ weekend is going to be hell, having to be in such constant proximity with her. 

Thrombey’s email is long and flowery, in the distinct manner that only novelists ever really have. He rambles on, bemoaning the state of his grandson for several long paragraphs before getting to the point. Finally, he lays out the issue, and it is a doozy:

📨Thrombey: Expedient Action Required

—has come to my attention that the boy has been engaging in a form of online prostitution. Something called only fans.”

Steve’s jaw drops as he feels the blood drain from his face. Oh no. Bucky wouldn’t … would he? Shit. He totally would. Steve’s eyes flick back to the email.

—can imagine my horror to find that for a monthly fee, subscribers have access to his nude photos. I hadn’t the stomach to look myself, but Ransom assures me it’s all him on the webpage. There are even videos, and Ransom says that James’ face is visible in some of the footage. His face! This is outrageous! 

“You’re telling me,” Steve mutters. 

Thankfully, the Academy’s structure seems to have put an end to his production. There’s been no new footage uploaded since the week before his enrollment. My lawyers are working on having the account erased, and I can only pray that nothing comes to light publicly before then.  Now more than ever, an intervention is required for my grandson. His eligibility for a good marriage will be out the window if word of this pornography spreads, his prospects ruined. I want you to put your full efforts into seeing him matched up with a suitable Alpha as soon as possible. I don’t care who it is, what nationality they are, if it’s a triad, if there’s no notable family name—nothing. All that matters is that you find him a decent mate with no record of mistreatment. Do be thorough in your searching, but do not drag your feet! I’m sure I needn’t explain how damaging this will be to my family, if word gets out.  I am counting on you to take expedient action, H. Thrombey

At the bottom of the email is a link. It’s to an OnlyFans page. Steve’s heart rate picks up and he hesitates for a long moment, knowing that he shouldn’t look. Harlan’s lawyers are handling it. 

But his morbid curiosity wins out, and he clicks on the link. It leads directly to Bucky’s personal page, and Steve experiences a very unpleasant combination of sensations: his dick filling with blood at the same time that his stomach turns from seeing the images that are on the page’s banners. It’s Bucky’s body, that’s for sure, with his face cleverly turned away or artfully clipped from the shots. Below the title page and summary are links to “Exclusive new hot videos!” with 3 second thumbnails of Bucky’s ass moving, his back arching, his hand moving over his—

Steve looks away from the computer screen, furious and aroused and mortified. “Goddammit, Bucky,” he hisses, angry that the kid has done something so inherently damaging—not just to his reputation like Harlan is thinking, but to himself, to his soul. Steve’s stomach churns something awful at knowing that this stuff is available for any creep with a credit card to purchase … and at his own reaction to even the barest glimpses of it. He peeks up again, this time reading the titles of the videos: 

“Hot O-on-O action!”

“Omega dominates Alpha Slut”

“Horny Teen Twink in Heat”

His jaw ticks angrily. What fucking awful, typical titles. He looks down at his cock, which is visibly pressing against the seam of his slacks. “Fuck,” he groans. He can’t jerk off to porn of Bucky. He can’t. It’d be beyond unethical. Even if the kid was his mate, Steve would still feel the moral obligation to—

Oh. Well there’s an idea. 

His brain stalls on the thought of him as Bucky’s mate, his Alpha, in charge of him and giving him what he needs … and taking what he wants. Mortifyingly, a growl builds up in his chest as he glances once more at the thumbnails of Bucky doing lurid things. The kid’s got such tight, smooth skin; such a perfect, pretty shape. Steve’s mind slips into editorial mode, imagining what it would be like if Bucky was his, the omega’s ass moving under his hips, his back arching in his bed, his quivering hands smacked away from his cocklet while Steve rails him from behi—

Jesus fucking Christ. Stop!

His hand is halfway to his pocket when he realizes that he’s reaching for his wallet, contemplating buying a subscription just so that he can see. Disgust floods his chest, extinguishing the growl, and he snaps out of it. He pushes away from the desk and stomps over to grab the bottle of Scotch and bring it back, dumping himself back in his desk chair and heedlessly pouring another fill. 

And so what? he thinks. Who cares if he finishes the whole fucking bottle? He might as fucking well. His wife, the woman who agreed to be his life partner, who placated him with endless promises of “one day” and then went ice cold and bitter and reneged on everything she’d ever claimed to want with him, is putting him through the wringer just for shits and giggles. And now come to find out, his newest pupil, a boy for whom he’s got way too much personal interest, is selling himself on the internet—For $9.99 a month?!!! The videos seem to cost extra on a pay-per-view basis, but even still, what the ever-loving fuck?!

Steve’s whole body stiffens as something else occurs to him: Harlan’s email said that Bucky’s face is visible in the videos. Bucky’s stepfather reported that to Harlan. Which means he's seen the videos. Which means … 

Steve’s jaw ticks as he glances back to the computer screen, to Bucky’s homepage and the free lurid teaser photos that don’t show his face. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he hisses, angry. That Drysdale guy had been a prick during the tour of the campus, and now Steve knows what a fucking pervert he is, too. Because the only way he could know that Bucky’s face is shown is if he bought the subscription and paid extra for the videos.

Steve closes out the browser window, not wanting to see any more of it. The warring disgust and temptation to be one of those creeps who pays money to view omegas degrade themselves is just too much. He yanks his wallet out of his back pocket and chucks it angrily at the couch, missing by a country mile. He takes a gulp of the Scotch, exhaling harshly at the burn as it goes down. “Fuck.”

Pornography for omegas carries a heavy social stigma—far beyond what any beta or alpha porn star would ever face, and deeper in the nature of its contempt and consequence. Omegas who do porn make big bucks, because they’re making an even bigger trade-off. Engaging in any sort of sex work virtually erases an omega's chance of mating. It hadn’t merely been upper crust snobbery in Harlan’s email, but common sense as well. People from all walks of life treat omega sex workers as an untouchable caste, damaged goods, not worthy of real relationships. 

It’s one of the few holdovers from the old days, even though porn isn’t what it once was. It’s easier to make than ever. Amateur is in. Omegas who would’ve once been exploited by large production companies now work from home, in control of their own content creation. More and more of them are choosing get rich quick schemes over mating, turning to platforms like OnlyFans and giving away their most sacred gifts to any scum bucket with a credit card. Ruining their lives. 

Steve loosens his tie and takes another gulp of liquor before setting the glass down heavily. His hands go resolutely back to his laptop with what he knows he has to do. It sickens him that he even has to do it in the first place. He considers himself a man of morals, a man who lives by his word. But in this one thing, he’s let himself become a hypocrite. He navigates to his internet bookmarks and opens the subfolder marked “Meditations.” It’s his porn stash. Favorite videos he’s saved for lonely nights. Nothing too wild, but virtually all of it involves omegas. Watching A/o porn has been his guilty pleasure for … a while.

He used to avoid it on principle, but these past few years have been different, his desires harder to ignore, the urge to bond, mate, and breed pooling in the back of his brain and the pit of his belly, winding him tight with a tension that he doesn’t like. At first, he’d just chalked it up to being a horny bastard, but that wasn’t it. The unrelenting tension came with a hollow, forlorn ache that refused to go away. Even after a good jerk off session imagining himself in one of those videos, it never went away for long. It’d taken Steve a long time to figure out what that ache really was. For the first time in his life, he felt unfulfilled. 

He only hesitates a second before right clicking on the folder and pressing delete, a grim sense of rightness settling over him at the action. He should’ve done it long ago. He shouldn’t have compromised his values in the first place. Of course he’d made all sorts of excuses for it: the porn was amateur, it was self-made, the omegas were getting off and enjoying themselves, he wasn’t paying for it, maybe the Alphas in the videos were actually their mates.

And then of course, the lamest excuse of all: that he deserved to watch it, because his erstwhile wife was ruining everything. 

He closes out the browser window and frowns at his reflection on the screen. “Lame,” he mutters. He opens Harlan’s email back up and begins drafting a response, assuring the man that he has nothing to worry about, that Steve will find Bucky a suitable match in no time.

He uses one of the school’s proprietary databases that tracks eligible bachelors, typing in search parameters for sex and nationality (any), net worth (≥ €2,000,000) and age (25-45). Alphas live longer than other designations, so he isn’t worried about being too picky on the age range. Just so long as it isn’t some young sap who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing. Bucky needs a firm hand and lots of attention. He needs an Alpha who can handle him with gentle dominance, who’ll know when to be indulgent and when to put their foot down.

Steve can’t say why he picks €2m to be the cutoff point for a prospective Alpha’s net worth. Maybe he likes the idea of Bucky being given an easy, comfortable life. And if he sets the search results to list from lowest to highest net worth, well … maybe it’s because he doesn’t like the idea of Bucky being smothered by ludicrous levels of wealth (like Parker’s undoubtedly about to be). 

The list of possibilities starts with a landowner in rural Scotland, and ends with an Israeli shipping magnate based out of Cairo. Steve scrolls through the profiles, dismissing anyone he deems unworthy of being Bucky’s mate. Too ugly, too ugly, too fat, too old, too many divorces, too ugly, too ugly. Nobody seems good enough. Steve finds flaws in every profile he sees. And underneath it all, the thought remains: he could be Bucky’s mate.

He shakes his head like he can rattle the idea loose, thinking: don’t be stupid, Rogers. He’s the headmaster here. Taking a student as a mate would be a violation of his professional duties. Not illegal, hell, not even technically against the rules, but certainly embarrassing, perhaps bordering on … unseemly. Parents entrust him with their omega sons to train them up and secure good matches for them, not to mate them himself. 

… But Harlan’s email had specifically said that nothing else mattered. Not race, nor gender, nor pedigree. ‘All that matters is that you find him a decent mate with no record of mistreatment’.

All Steve can think about is how that could be him. He could be Bucky’s Alpha. He could take care of him, provide for him, have a family with him. Pieces of an imaginary life layer up in his mind like paper mâché, one on top of the other, slowly congealing into a picture that makes the yearning in his gut that much worse. He imagines Bucky as his omega, living in the Pendergast Street cottage together, a scar on Bucky’s neck; holing up in the house’s nesting closet with him each month, fucking him through his heats, getting him pregnant, watching him give birth and nurse their baby inside a bundle of blankets that have Steve’s scent on them.

He’s always wanted kids. Peggy had, too, or so she said. They’d talked about it infrequently, but they had talked about it. How one day they’d mate an omega and live a blissful family life, have a traditional triad marriage. But that was the problem: they’d only ever talked about it. And on the rare occasion when they had, Steve was always the one to bring the topic up. He hadn’t realized that, hadn’t realized how often Peggy’s only input wound up being an obfuscating ‘one day’. 

The day when she finally nutted up and said that she’d changed her mind, that she didn’t want an omega mate in their marriage, didn’t want babies, was the day Steve finally uttered the word that’d been sitting on the back of his tongue for months: “Divorce.”

He still wants to have that intimacy with an omega: bonding them, sharing their heats, getting them pregnant and watching them grow, seeing his child in their arms. He thinks of Bucky in that role, imagines how the boy would take to it, what their first time would be like, if he’d instinctually know to go ass up in the bed or if he’d need to fight it a little, have his alpha toss him around and hold him down before he could accept a knot. If he’d get quiet right before coming, or shriek and thrash and dissolve into agonized tears.

“Fuck,” Steve groans, letting his hand slide over the top of his thigh and into the crease of his groin. He palms himself there, gripping his dick and giving a few short tugs from over the material of his slacks. He looks down and stares at the hard line his boner makes, imagining Bucky being here and seeing it, putting his hand there, how much smaller it’d be than Steve’s, how much less experienced. God, Steve wants to guide him through that, teach him how to touch a man, watch the nervousness and arousal play out on his face as he learns how to please an alpha for the first time. 

“Fuck, Honey,” he breathes, thinking about the little noises Bucky would make, the little protests and growls, and the slick that would drip down his thighs and betray him. Steve wonders how the kid touches himself, thinks back to that first day in his office, when he’d asked him how he liked to make himself come. Bucky hadn’t gotten around to answering before he’d lost control of his body, wetting up his underwear in submissive release and going a fascinated shade of red once Steve cooed at him over it. 

He’s never had a student release like that before. Not that easily. And he’s just so fucking pretty, even his anger is pretty. Steve grits his teeth at how he can feel his self restraint slipping. He thinks of Harlen’s email: find him a mate, anyone will do. Well if anyone will do, then why the fuck shouldn’t he put himself in the running?

Bucky is low hanging fruit, so fucking ripe for the picking, and Steve just knows he could get him to bend so beautifully with only a little bit of tender care. He could have him happy and content in no time, releasing at the barest show of dominance, just like before. He can still hear that warbling, humiliated whimper that came right after Bucky wet for him, the way his big, confused eyes had looked to Steve for help … 

“Goddammit.” He hastily undoes his belt and fly. He shoves his pants and underwear down to free his dick, wrapping a hand around himself and squeezing tightly at the base. His knot is already dark and aching, halfway to being erect after less than a minute of touching himself. He wrings his fist up under the head, forcing the skin over the tip and jacking off with it, guts coiling tighter at the tiny, wet sounds it makes. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He takes his hand off, not wanting to come too fast. He slumps back in the desk chair for a moment, panting, and remembers two things at almost the exact same second: He needs to check the surveillance in Bucky’s room, and he’s got a pocket masturbator in his desk drawer. Well, fuck.

He all but lunges for the drawer, yanking it open and cursing when he sees it. He grabs the toy and holds it to the tip of his cock, moving his hips to push the head through in tiny, teasing little pulses. Oh god, it feels amazing. He pulls it off and reaches for his laptop, opening the school’s surveillance mainframe and navigating to the dormitory views. He clicks on the camera for Bucky’s bedroom and toggles the night vision to on. At first it doesn’t look like much is happening, but then he catches the slight movement of Bucky’s body beneath the blanket … and he moans all over again.

“You little fuck,” he breathes, grabbing the masturbator to slide it all the way over his dick. “Ughn.”

Bucky’s touching himself from underneath the blankets. He’s lying in the same position that Steve left him in, only now his eyes are clenched shut tight and he’s panting open-mouthed into the pillow, his one shoulder angled in such a way as to suggest that he’s got his hand reached behind him. His arm moves in tiny, barely-there pulses. Steve realizes that, unless Bucky’s got the longest fingers known to mankind, he’s using a toy on himself back there. 

“Nnh.” He squeezes the silicon sleeve over his cock, dragging it up and down in time with the motions of Bucky’s shoulder, imagining that it’s Bucky he’s feeling around his cock, imagining that Bucky’s feeling him.  “Naughty boy,” he grunts through a grin. He knew Bucky would be jerking off once left alone, but this is even better. Steve regrets not watching the feed from the moment he left, as he’d love to know just what the toy looks like, and where Bucky was hiding it. Somewhere in his luggage, obviously. New students are always searched when they arrive, but clearly the boy managed to get something past bag check. Steve almost feels admiration for the sneaky little shit. 

He pushes the unmute button and listens to the audio. At first it’s just the quiet rustling of fabric on fabric, the stirring of Bucky’s body against the sheets as he pleasures himself, but then a tiny, breathy moan breaks through, and then another. Steve’s hips flex into his stroking hand. “Oh, Honey.”

Bucky’s face is pinched and he’s biting his lip—probably trying to keep quiet. The notion makes Steve smirk. Omegas are very vocal in their sexual pleasure, prone to keening and squealing and making all sorts of warbling, debased noises when they’re feeling good. It must be the most exquisite torture for Bucky to try and stay silent like this as he fucks himself on whatever toy he’s managed to sneak in. Steve watches it with a tightening belly and aching balls, twisting the rubber sleeve over himself again and again, bumping down hard against his knot on every stroke. “Fffuck.”

In the frame, Bucky’s voice catches on a single, high pitched noise as he comes, his body going rigid under the sheets and his hips pulsing harder than before. He whimpers and turns his face further into the pillow to muffle it, but Steve is already right there too, jerking himself hard and fast with the sleeve until he shouts and starts to shoot. His knot blows inside of the rubber, which isn’t as good as the real thing, but still feels fucking amazing. He keeps his dick fully buried and squeezes the toy hard over his knot, milking himself until his hand cramps and he lets go. The toy pops off his cock and falls to the floor, and Steve goes boneless in his chair as he shivers through the long wave of his orgasm. 

When it’s finally over and he looks back at the computer screen, it’s to see Bucky carefully rearranging himself under the blankets. Whatever it was that he’d used to fuck himself, he seems to be keeping it hidden between the mattress and the room’s wall. Steve plays idly with his knot while he waits for it to go down, deciding that the kid gloves need to come off now. It’s time Bucky learned just what it means to be taken in hand by an Alpha. And with the development of the online porn and Harlan’s request, there’s no longer need or time to play things slow and easy.

Tomorrow, Steve’ll finally do what he should’ve done from the get-go, what he’s been wanting to do ever since Bucky trounced into his office with a bad attitude and false bravado. From here on out, he’s going to take proper care of that boy. Starting tomorrow, he’s going to handle Bucky’s education himself. And if things progress from there? Well, Harlan said anyone will do.

Story Masterlist

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[for-ships-that-never-sail]

LISTEN

I’m on the ✨ #LukolaEndgame ✨ hopes and dreams delulu (but hopefully not actually delulu) train 🚂 just as much as the next person here

BUT ALSO

I wouldn’t be mad at this?? 👀

Like…. He’s a handsome man, and if Nic intends to respectfully climb him like a tree, I GET IT. 👀🤤

See below for more Lukola positive thoughts though…

👇🏼

SO Nic has already mentioned Eamon by name (as a friend) in at least 2 or 3 interviews during the recent press tour… She’s also said she very much believes in the friends to lovers trope that is just as applicable here…. Andddddddd I’ve seen Nic hug A on video in a very friendly way (not that she wouldn’t hug her or be nice to her even if she didddd want L rn) and I also just saw someone’s theory on the Lukola tag about Nic’s “shit or get off the pot” paddle hit side eye vibes potentially being about her just giving L friendly advise on his stuff with A, which I can technically see as plausible…

So yeah, I know those ideas are gonna pisssss people off, but I’m just saying…. It would be a gorgeous love story for Lukola to one day be endgame, BUT in the meantime, I can see their current situations being all of thisss^

NOW in terms of my personal hopes and dreams of Lukola actually being endgame… I see it the way I see #Beliza 😅

Is anyone here from THOSE days?? When we used to look at #Bellarke and say, “if Bellamy is not supposed to be in love with Clarke, someone needs to tell Bob to stop looking at Eliza like that” (because we thought it was justtttt an acting choice)???

And then BAMMM

Out of absolutely fucking NOWHERE (I mean for some of us crazies that were following too closely it wasn’t 100% out of nowhere… but I knooooow that’s how the majority felt) they’re about to be filming the last season of the show and they’re just like yeah so GUESS WHAT GUYS I MARRIED MY BEST FRIEND and everyone is like ??? 🤯 I mean y’all were definitely close friends when you were shooting and doing promo every year for sure but like when the fuck did you become actual bestttt friends irl??? When the fuck did you start dating???? When did you even decide you’d get married?? Cause just a few months ago we were still seeing both of your other public shipssss!!! (Let’s also fully jump over THAT drama 👀) And then they were just like, so ummm we kissed after our first date and we just KNEW this was ITTTT so we got married 2 seconds later cause like why wouldn’t we?? We are best friends and soulmatesssss ✨🌈🦄 🥰🦞

Anyway

That’s how I imagine Lukola to one day become official 🤷🏻‍♀️ Like they’ll date other people openly, and then suddenly OUT OF THE BLUE they’re MARRIED and everyone’s fucking confused AND elated! Lol

I do wonder if already having been so intimate with each other as Polin (unlike Bellarke, which, let’s just not think about that anymore either 😫) would delay or speed up Lukola if this were the case.

Like either it’ll speed them up because they know they LIKED all of THAT 👀 so by the time Bridgerton is officially coming to a close they’ll feel comfortable enough to stop being so professional about their relationship and acknowledge the 🐘 in the room and get on itttttt and get married 4 dates in… ORRRRR it will slow them down because they would continue to think they LIKED IT only because they were experiencing emotional residue from being too in character as Polin. Meaning the show would have to end and they’d have to actually part ways for a while, and they’d have to miss each other a LOTTT, and realize it wasn’t just Polin that created all this 🌩️ energy 🌩️ between them, and then one of them would need to just jump in the deep end and be like, so uhmmmm I thought I was feeling the tingles cause I was just super into being Colin but maybeee that wasn’t ittt…. so do you, errr… wanna??? 👀

My concern with option 2 is that it has higher potential for “ships that pass in the night” vibes 😫

So

GOD I humbly pray that it’s actually the first version, and that they’re just sowing their wild oats until Bridgerton is nearly over, justttt because they don’t wanna accidentally fuck up any work dynamics, and that as soon as the official end is in sight, they will just get married two seconds into dating irl AMEN 🙏🏼

[factual-fantasy]

26 ASKS!! :DD THANK U VERY MUCH!!🎨

Well that wouldn't be a good thing to do- Its very well known that I don't like fanart of my works..

If you wanna show that you like Bibi, just leave a comment please!

Seriously ya'll, just comments. Reblogs, tags, asks.. what ever form they may take. All I look forward to when posting artwork is reading all the responses. 👍

@solst1ce-sketches

WAAAHGAGAG THANK YOU SO MUCH!! AND HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!! 😭😭💖💖💖😭💖

@luna-purple454

Oh they're both fine! :0 Other than some angst ideas I had for them-- they're both still alive and well XD I just haven't drawn them in a while :/

@minnesotamedic186

I can hardly wait! :DDD (And yes you can XD)

@butterbreadsworld

Sorry, I don't take requests. Thank you though!! :}}

@i-v-y67

Blackmail XDD

@samcat2

I still like transformers! Though I'm not really interested in drawing it atm.. thank you though!! :DD

(Post in question)

XDDD fr tho--

:DD Thank youuu!! :}}}

@kiinther

XDD Blue is too big for that too! Though Seafoam might be able to give her a little peck on the cheek 👀 if either of them would just confess their feelings already <XDD

I know, and I hate all of it. :(

Also thank you so much! :DD

I was thinking that they're kind'a a cross between the two.

They pillage and raid other ships, but they don't normally go for "innocent" ships.. if they attack anyone, its usually other rotten pirates or slave ships maybe? "Bad" ships I guess you could say-

As for the voice claims. If like you explained- you happen upon an OC of mine and think "HE LOOKES LIKE HE SOUNDS EXACTLY LIKE THAT OTHER GUY" Then feel free to send it on over to me! :DD

But don't go out of your way to find voice claims for my characters as a gift or a form of fanart. Remember! All I really want is comments. Engagement with my work means everything to me! <:)

@neo-metalscottic (Post in question)

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DDD I'm so glad you like him!! :}} And that head injury was kind'a just a pose prompt. Though I might slap some lore on it and make it canon! :00

As for Papyrus.. its complicated.

Papyrus had accepted long ago that Sans and all his friends were gone. And that he was never going to see them again.. It really hurt. And it took him a very long time to accept that fact. But he did. He knows in his soul that his true brother is gone..

That didn't make seeing "Sans" again any less painful though. He probably saw a Sans through the trees in a new Snowdin. Man, I cant imagine how he felt.

The whole multiverse thing was explained to him by Frisk. He knows that's not his Sans. He knows its not him. But gosh. Its been so long since he's seen his brothers smile. What he would give to hear one of his silly puns again. What he would give to hear his voice.. to just.. to hug him one last time..

Frisk would grab Papyrus' hand, "Papyrus.. we need to go.. please, common.."

Seeing the other Papyrus walk into view and begin talking to that Sans.. He recollects himself. Its not him. Sans is gone. He's been gone for a very long time..

With tears streaming down his face, he would find the strength to grip Frisk's hand.. and turn away.

It never gets easier..

@jesterpiecethejester

Sorry, I don't take drawing requests! Plus the crews already pretty full as it is- <XDD

@bunny-coffee

I didn't intend to ever draw Frank and Eddie in a romantic light.. becuase yeah like you said, I just don't really like ships. Or honestly any romantic content that isn't my own OCs. Idk I just don't really enjoy drawing it--

But that's kind'a what I feared about the Welcome Home fandom if I'm being honest. I felt like people were really protective over Eddie and Frank. And if I revealed that I wasn't interested in drawing them as an item, canon or not? I felt like I would get a loooot of backlash.

But hey, I found a loophole. Just don't draw them together and there wont be any drama! :D It sucks though becuase Frank is a big part of Eddies lore and all his flashback shenanigans-

(Also thank you! :DD )

@beryl-shade

Oh! No no, its just made of seafoam! :0 Though whipped cream would make sense because he's a cookie- <XD

I do??

Huh.. I guess I do don't I..

What do I do with that power--

@sparkdrawsstuff

Well the strongest would be Blue Beauty by far- but looking at the smaller cookies? I think Seafoam is probably the strongest. But that's mostly due to him being so big. He's the biggest cookie on the crew and most of his strength just comes from packing more weight to his punch.

Though another toughy on the ship would be Louis. He may not be very big. But boy that crab arm? He has a grip strong enough to break cookies in half. And enough upper body strength to take your pieces and chuck em overboard--- 💀💀💀I wouldn't mess with either of them tbh--

As for the bounty.. that's a good question. :0 I wanna say Seafoam because he's the Captain an all.. but I really like the idea of Cuttlefish having this dark past and a surprisingly huge bounty over her head- 👀👀

@wilmawillow

<XD I think you might have got those two words switched around. I don't take drawing requests! But I've considered going back to some old artwork and redrawing them in my updated style.. 👀👀

@danikoshi

Not really.. :( There have been times in the past where I have asked for drawing ideas/requests when I was feeling low. But now a days I have plenty of ideas to draw so I don't need to do that anymore-

And to be totally honest, when someone says "Hey draw this thing for me." It just makes me go-

@astaherussy

You can find all the lore you need about Papyrus in this ask post! Just scroll down a bit and you'll find all the links and a bonus paragraph <XD

As for the tags. If you wanna see my AU with Jevil and the gang, you can find that under my #deltarune tag. They're also tagged under #Undertale but that will also bring up my Refinedtale AU and other au stuff-- :00

As for the Octonauts question, bro I EAT questions like these! :DD

Its a very interesting prompt. Usually we think of Captain Barnacles as very level headed and calm. He seems like one to bounce back from any situation and keep leading the team no problem. But man. After something like that? That's gotta scare him to his core.

I can see Barnacles being more tense and not wanting any of the crew to stray too far from him or the Octopod. I can imagine that he would give Kwazii a lot of time to recover, a lot more than he actually needs. And maybe even going as far to forbid him from going on certain missions.

But after a little time and maybe a talk with Kwazii. I'm sure both Kwazii and the Captain would recover from the experience and continue on as normal.

(Also thank you! I hope this response was along the lines of what you were hoping for-- :00 )

I pictured it being like really dense soap bubbles. They smell nice and can be picked off his coat or head. But if you jumped on his coat foam you wouldn't sink through. It would be like a big cushion that you could sit on top of. If that makes sense?? <XDD

@danman22ful

Out my OCs? Probably Seafoam 🥺

Out of the game cookies? Uhhhm.. well, I don't really know/remember any of the characters.. But Tea Knight cookie looks really cool! :0 He gives me major Reinhardt vibes :))

Thank you so much!!!! :DDD

@insanityislife101 (I couldn't find the post in question :((( )

Oh fr??? Cool! He was in character after all! :DD

[galaxygermdraws]

So fun fact, me n @shadesofvermillionvoid associate each Emerald with both a character (or characters) as well as different like. Aspects also associated with said character so. I guess I may as well explain that! This idea was mostly spawned from the end of Sonic 06 where all the characters go out to get the Emeralds. Each Emerald also has an element but I have plans to expand on that later.

Cyan: Associated with Silver, represents Hope. Given Silver's entire thing is working towards a better future and being hopeful even when all the odds seem to point to the worst outcome, we figured this association would be apt. Also, Sonic has Cyan quills most of the time since he inspires hope and has a generally positive outlook on life.

Red: Associated with Amy, represents Passion. Given Amy's passionate spirit for everything she sets her mind to, plus the fact the red Emerald is her favorite but that's just a bonus. This also spawns from a lot of her talk in Frontiers about love and wanting to share it with the world. Passion can also make one feel things that would otherwise seem illogical, and given her faith in Sonic (something Sonic X, Sonic Unleashed, Sonic 06, and Sonic Frontiers all show about her) and the fact he'll save everyone, it just kind of works out.

Yellow: Associated with Tails, represents Ingenuity. I hope I don't need to explain this one, given Tails is literally a child genius who has learned over time how to work on the fly (pun intended) since you can't go into unexpected territory with a plan. He's also just insanely clever.

Green: Associated with Knuckles, represents Loyalty. Knuckles' loyalty and sense of duty to not only the Master Emerald but to those he cares about is immensely strong. I also just think green worked with Knuckles palette wise because he has those little green bits on his shoes, and the Master Emerald is green. Also this is kind of a jab at Chaos Knuckles.

White: Associated with Shadow, represents Stability. Given Shadow's status as both a hybrid and also the fact he has been on both the sides of good and evil. Also his Super form is like that platinum white color, and overall I think there's just some kind of irony in Shadow being the one associated with the White Emerald.

Purple: Associated with Rouge, represents Preservation. Rouge is very much a self-preservation kind of person, everyone for themself, except when it comes to those she cares about (Team Dark, mostly).

Blue: Associated with Elise and Sonic, represents Impulse. Both Elise and Sonic are here because Sonic was literally dead at the end of 06 and I like to think while he was stuck like that the voices of his friends were channeled through the Emeralds and helped awake him as Super Sonic. Anyways, Sonic is pretty impulsive, rushes into things, yada yada you know this. Elise actually isn't like that at first, but we see she eventually begins to be impulsive when she jumps out of Eggman's ship because she would rather die than be stuck with him. Sonic's impulsive nature rubbed off on her, but also, it was the Emerald she gave Sonic at the beginning of the game and there's symbolism there.

(reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated, thankyu)

[zetadraconis11]

Writer Interview Game

Thank you, @gingerlegacy07 for the tag! Y'all should check her out! She's amazing and a great writer :]

When did you start writing?

Hm, I think I started writing ever since I was 9. It was at first just a little children's book. I've always liked drawing and writing, and coming up with crazy things, lol.

I loved taking Creative Writing class when I was 17, and that's when I also started writing my own original novel.

Writing fanfiction, I started about a year ago, with Hogwarts Legacy. I just had a couple ideas and decided to just give it a shot and write them. Now, I'm still writing HL fanfics and enjoying it so much :]

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Ummm, I'm not sure. Maybe enemies to lovers as I personally don't think I can write that wonderful trope well. But I love to see it, like Zutara, lol.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

No, as I write with my own style. I might be inspired by works of others sometimes, but I intend to make stories with my own take and my own way.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

Well, if I write at my home, I usually do it at my desk! Per my name, I have some dragon stuff on my desk, lol, as well as a ceramic cup of pens and pencils and a lamp.

If I feel bored at my desk, I would move to the kitchen table or the living room, just to have a change of scenery. I also sometimes go to a coffee shop and camp there for a few hours while drinking mochas and such.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I often listen to songs and think of which pairs or characters fit them. And even when I watch a show or movie, I find myself wondering what characters from HL would be like in it, hahaha.

So honestly...the most effective way is just me lost in thought XD. I have one interesting thought, then I keep following that thought, and it just builds up in there. And my creativity has me start to write it.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Family is huge in my writing. Whether it's blood family or - more frequently - found family. Also friends that are like family. And just being supportive and having healthy relationships. Wonderful happy love and fluff everywhere!

It doesn't surprise me, lol. I don't like sad endings or anything too depressing. I can't handle it, and I always want happy endings after many rough trials or trauma.

With Sebastian, I always have him redeemed when he's in a relationship with my MC Estelle. And she needed healing of her own too. And they just make each other so happy and they love each other so much. All the fluff for them and my other otps :]

What is your reason for writing?

It's mainly because I wanted to a certain story and didn't see it out there, so I decided to write it myself. In doing so, I hope that others enjoy the stories too.

Anyone that's seen the majority of my incorrect quotes or read some of my stories know I'm a huge shipper of Garrelda. I love them to bits, I'll forever captain that ship if need be, lol. So, when HL fics were still coming out, I didn't any (if at all) or Poppinis. I decided to give it a shot and write for those pairings, more of Poppinis at first. I loved Poppinis as a ship first before I fleshed out my take on Garrelda more.

In the end, I write stories that I randomly get inspired to write, and I just send them out there, not knowing if others wanted to read such a thing, lol

Is their any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Any positive comment showing love for the story just makes me so happy. Seeing them appreciate it always makes me smile. Those comments help me remember people do like what I write, and it's a nice reminder :]

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Eh, I don't know if there's anything I want to be thought about. But I guess a "provider" of Garrelda content, as I often write that pairing, especially with my recent on-going fic. Or just a "truly writing dragon", lol, as I keep sending out more stories for people to read in the HL fandom.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I think writing emotions and characters. I try to make the characters feel real, and I do my best in describing them so they're relatable to readers.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I feel like it's improving, which is great to see. But that makes me grimace about my first fics I wrote, as I know they can be a bit rough. But that's how it goes, and I do feel pretty proud of how far I've come, and I do like my writing more from time to time. I admittedly am still my worst critic, though.

And those are my answers! Thank you for whomever came up with this! :]

Np tags: @polarisgreenley, @mspegasus17, @ravenwind-75