#okay maybe there are upsides to retirement

[rimouskis]

I can't believe my dad is retired. I feel too young for this. I feel he's too young for this. I feel like I'm still 15 sometimes. I feel surprised every time I go home and he looks older. I feel surprised when I finally FaceTime home instead of call and see he's grown a beard for the first time in my life. I feel like time should really just... freeze

[luveline]

kbd universe is my absolute favorite 🤩 maybe a request for when the new baby is home and she’s going through a colicky phase and won’t sleep and reader and steve are super stressed and doubting if they can do this and avery overhears and reassured them they’re the best parents? (srry if this is too specific, any direction you go will be amazing!!)

ty babe ♡ kisses before dinner au

Avery Harrington wakes up with her little sister's hand over her nose. She snorts in surprise, bed springs creaking formidably as she dislodges the small hand and rolls away from her added heat.

Bethie, the younger sister in question, has been sneaking into Avery's bed at night to put distance between them and the nonstop crying of the new baby. The baby, Avery notices, seems to be crying right now from downstairs. 

She lets her curiosity get the better of her. Slipping out of bed, she makes sure to cover Bethie with the blankets again before she leaves just like their dad does, imitating Steve's gentle cheek touch before creeping away. You and dad finally got rid of the baby gates (though they've been on and off over the years, you've retired them until the youngest learns to crawl), making her journey down a secret one. 

She can hear two voices at once just under the rattling baby cries. Steve's louder and yours softer, both speaking with the love Avery's come to expect. 

"Maybe try holding her legs higher," you suggest. 

"I think I've held her every way a baby can be held without hanging her upside down." 

"I know, honey." You're always tired lately, your voice hoarse with fatigue. "I can have her again. Pass her over." 

You get sweet when you're tired. Her dad gets cranky. He told Avery once that that's why you're good together, but Avery knows you can be just as cranky after a while. 

Avery pauses in the door of the living room. You're sitting on the farthest seat of the leather couch while Steve's standing, passing the baby to you carefully. She cries and cries no matter how much caution he shows. 

"What if she never stops?" Steve asks. 

"She will. She'll get too tired to keep going." 

"I heard about this baby who had his heart in the wrong place." 

"Steve. Honey, sit down. You're tired." 

"I can't sleep while she's crying like that. No point." 

Avery frowns as the conversation between you both devolves. She doesn't want to make things worse by showing you that she's awake, watching and waiting in the dark as you pat the baby's back desperately, and Steve's eyes get glassy. 

Avery has seen her dad cry loads of times. At the movies, the radio, sad stories. Steve cried when she broke her pinky finger, and cried again when they took the cast off. Avery isn't sure she's seen him get upset over something like this. 

He whispers something. You whisper back, trying to hold his hand in the dark, but you stop when he says, "What if we can't do this?" 

"Steve, we have to. This is it. And we want to, so… I don't know." You sound dejected yourself, looking down at the baby where she refuses to take a bottle hopelessly. "Maybe we can't do it." 

Avery can't know that neither of you truly feel this way, that you're both tired enough to catastrophize. She just watches her dad, an unshakable pillar of support, start to waver, and she knows you've got it wrong. 

"Daddy?" she asks. 

Steve rubs his eyes with a rough hand. "Ave?" he asks, plastering a meek smile over his face. He's one of the handsome dad's, everybody says so, probably because he's always smiling. 

"Sorry, did the baby wake you up?" you ask. 

Avery grins as Steve opens his arms and runs into them. Too tired to lift her up, Steve stays crouched for the hug, but eventually sits on the floor, pulling Avery into his lap. Closer, Avery cringes at the baby and her screaming. 

"Beth smushed my nose," she says. 

Steve turns her face to check it over. "You look okay. Does it hurt?" He squeezes her cheeks into a smile. 

"No," she laughs. 

Steve gives her another hug. "Well, that's good." 

He just cuddles her. Avery melts into his touch, the sound of the baby's cries feeling further away, Steve's hand covering one of her ears. 

"Sorry," he says into her hair. "I know it's not fair. Baby's just figuring out what she needs." 

"You said you can't do it." 

Baby shrieks. Steve pulls Avery's head back. "What?" 

"You and mom." Avery turns to look at you. You're frowning, bobbing the baby against your chest. "You said we can't do it." 

"We were being silly," Steve says. 

"We're tired," you agree.

"And your sister won't stop crying, we're worried she's not well, and it's really tiring, Ave, but we weren't thinking straight. Of course we can do it," Steve says breezily. 

"Yes, you can. You're the best mom and dad ever. Ever ever!" she says severely. "You can do everything, I know you can do it. Maybe I can have her and you guys can sleep and then tomorrow you'll be ready again." 

You and Steve laugh at the same time, chuckles that warm her heart, though she knows she's being shot down. "That's really nice of you, but that's okay. Me and mom got this," Steve says, brushing the back of his finger down her cheek.

Avery preens at the attention, back going lax in his arm. Steve leans down to hug her, his chin digging into her shoulder, heavy with fatigue. She doesn't tell him to move. 

It's a miracle that the baby seems to run out of steam not long after, marked by your happy sigh, "Aw, good girl. You're hungry, I knew it. You just don't like these bottle nibs." 

"See? I told you you could do it," Avery says.

You offer her a grateful, adoring smile. "You're my smart girl, that's why." You bop the baby on the nose with the tip of your finger. "And you're my tired girl." 

"What about me?" Steve asks. 

"You're my pillow, handsome. Come up here, I need to lean on you. Ave, you can be my blanket." 

[hazbinshusk]

hear me out

prompt 17 w husk??

prompt #17: an upside down "spider-man" kiss

“Here’s a question…”

“Hmm?”

“If Lucifer can create all this stuff out of nothing, why did we need to rebuild the hotel at all?” you ask, your body aching uncomfortably. You can’t help but admire the shining floors of the newly built lobby as you cross them, a small, amused smile touching your lips as you reach Husk. He’s apparently given up on pretending that he wasn’t completely wiped by today’s events; he hadn’t even made it onto one of the sofas – instead, he was stretched out on his stomach on the floor in front of one, his wings laying loosely against his back. “Couldn’t he just, y’know… build the whole thing himself?”

Husk groans gratefully as you bend down to press a heat pack to the small of his back, his eyes half-closed and his tail twitching back and forth in a slow, contended rhythm. “Think that’s a question for the big man himself, doll.”

You sigh as you stretch out on the sofa, the cushions still firm from lack of use. You settle on your back, stretching your legs up along the back of the sofa to hook your knees over the top of it. You’re sweaty and you’re tired, and your body aches uncomfortably, but there’s still a sense of satisfaction over what you’d all accomplished here.

“Figures.”

“You didn’t think about maybe bringing this up earlier?” he asks dryly, chin resting on his folded arms.

“I was caught up in the teamwork of it all,” you shrug, grimacing at the pain that flares through your shoulders at the movement. “Weren’t you?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he replies, and you chuckle quietly. The rest of the residents have already retired upstairs, and the sound echoes off the wide walls of the lobby. You watch the bartender upside down, his expression softening with a smile at the sound. You rearrange yourself slightly, letting your head dangle over the edge of the sofa. “Comfy?”

Not really,” you admit. “But moving sounds like a lot of work right now.”

He breathes a laugh, rolling his back slightly to help shift the heat pack lower against his spine. “Fuuuck…”

You hum in sympathy. “You okay?”

“’ve been better,” he tells you. A small smirk touches his lips as he looks up at you. “I’m glad you’re alright, doll.”

You smile, stretching your arm overhead to reach down and scratch your fingers over his cheek and down under his chin. A soft purring sounds from the cat, and he presses his cheek into your hand.

“Don’t know what I would do without you, Husk.” you admit softly, and his eyes open, a mix of surprise and affection burning in those golden eyes. You feel your cheeks warm as you realize your admission and you offer him a bashful smile despite yourself. “You’re like… my favorite person in Hell, is all.”

“High praise,” he says, a soft curve still present on his lips. He watches you for a few long moments, tail still waving back and forth, and you feel your heart rise into your throat as he pushes himself up onto his hands with a groan. You don’t move, swallowing heavily as your hand curls in the fur of his cheek, and Husk leans forward to press his lips to yours. You feel the cold bump of his nose against your chin, feel the warmth of his lips, and you shiver as you part slowly.

He settles back onto his stomach, resting his chin once more on his arms. His purr is still rumbling quietly through him.

“What was that for?” you ask, touching fingertips to your lips. You can still feel the warmth of him there.

Husk shrugs a shoulder, stretching out his wings carefully. “Guess you’re my favorite person in Hell, too.”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[desparaic]

Imagine Rengoku's son traveling to the past

Rengoku X Fem! Reader

I’m sorry, I never really do this kinda stuff before, but this has just been rotting my mind

read part 2 here

So, imagine Rengoku's teenage son traveling to the past when trying to fight a demon.

He is confused by the fact the demon just used his BDA and ran away just like that. He looks around and even checks himself, nothing.

Tf this demon do?????

Sun is almost up. Weird. He swears it just set only a few hours ago.

He tries to chase after the demon but with the thick trees, it’s hard to see where he went.

Defeated, he decides to go back to the corps headquarters, maybe visit the estate and go see his mother again

Imagine his surprise when he finds that things are a bit different than the last time he left the hq

I’m sorry what do you mean the current oyakata is Kagaya??? Isn’t that Kiriya-sama’s late father????

wait is that Uzui-san????? He has both of his eyes???? And he’s back being a slayer now?????

And why does everyone look at him weird????? Wait, where are his friends????

He has to take a double take when he sees the news post near the garden and realizes the year of the news is set in 19XX, more than 15 years back into the past.

He swears it’s a prank

it isn’t lol

After a liiiitttlee panic attack and existential crisis, he realizes he’s in the past

Down side, he doesn’t know how to get back and what this means

Upside, he can see his mom in action as a hashira!

She retired when he was born, so he didn’t get to see her in action aside from training sessions.

Excited (as if he wasn’t just panicking about this lmao), he rushes all over the place to find his mother

people be staring at him

who is this carbon copy of the flame hashira and why is he running

Eventually finds her just about to take off for a mission

“MOTHERRRRRR!”

I’m sorry huh?

You look at the kid surprised. Not only is he look exactly like your husband, this kid just called you mom.

I’m?????? Did Kyojuro have a secret love child???? or a relative he never told you about?????

Your future son is just so hyped seeing you in your uniform the first time he almost forgot to explain himself LMAO

When he quickly introduces as your son you’re just there like 🧍‍♀️

This kid needs to find a physician quick

Well, turns out he isn’t lying, especially after telling you an intimate detail that only a few people know.

You’re flustered, surprised, bewildered, but most importantly…

You’re excited to see him! You and Rengoku have always talked about having a family, so you’re so glad you both eventually do!!!

Immediate bond. Get along super well. Almost like y’all are related dang who would’ve thought

You excitedly say, “Oh, I can’t wait for Kyojuro to meet you! I bet He’s excited to see his son from the future! You look just like him!”

his genes do be strong

but as soon as you say that, your son’s smile fades.

Your motherly instincts tell you something is wrong.

“Is everything okay?”

You didn’t miss the way he furrows his eyebrows and lift the corner of his lip in annoyance, even if it was just a split second.

He only smiles (though your mama bear instinct is like “no, no, this kid definitely hidin’ smn), “no, nothing’s wrong.”

”Oh! Can you show me your breathing technique, Mother? You never get to show me your breathing style!”

Huh. Weird.

Okay gonna write a part 2 because this way too long brother

UPDATE: aight here it is part 2

[redocity]

Can you do one based on work song by hozier.

Like the episode after he is struck by lightning, and he would do anything to get back to her (the reader) 😭

COMATOSE - E.BUCKLEY

after he’d been hit by lighting, buck had been rendered comatose, and he’s just as eager to wake up and see you again as you are for him to be okay.

WARNINGS: massive spoilers for 06X11, happy ending, established relationship

evan buckley x fem!reader II angst Il 4.6k Il requests open!

a/n: eddie doesn’t deserve to be separated from christopher in any universe so i wrote them back in-

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

First it was Daniel.

Then he found out Maddie was still with Doug and hadn’t even met Chimney.

Then it was finding out that Bobby had died.

You were his last shot.

God how he wanted to see you right now. He felt like his whole world had been flipped upside-down, and it had in a way. He was sure of his theory, that this was some alternate reality induced by the lightning strike. That he had to be in a coma. That was the only reasonable explanation for all of this.

The first course of action was to ask Chimney and Hen about you. He had no direct impact in you joining the 118, so you had to still be there right? Your job was your life, and even in a place like this that shouldn’t have changed. You were independently driven, and he just hoped that meant that you weren’t different.

“Oh right,” Hen snapped her fingers at Buck’s description of you. “She went into early retirement to look after the kids,”

“Sad to see her go honestly, she was great,” Chimney nodded along to Hen’s assessment, crossing his arms. “I miss her cooking sometimes,”

“You say that like she’s dead,” Hen rolled her eyes, hitting Chimney’s bicep with the back of her hand. “We see her all the time,”

“Yeah but that’s not the same as coming off a call and having the mastery that is her lasagna waiting in the oven for me to devour the minute we sit down,” Chimney sighs at the thought, his shoulders dropping as he imagines it. “Now we get it maybe once a month if we’re lucky,”

“Wait stop-” Buck holds his hand up to stop the two’s conversation, pushing himself from the dining chair he was sat in at Chimney’s table to stand with a furrowed expression. “Kids?”

You weren’t just not in the 118, you had kids here? Kids plural. Not even just one.

“Yeah,” Hen gives him a short nod with a raised eyebrow, like Buck’s confusion was the weird thing and not you having multiple kids with somebody who wasn’t him. “Chistopher and Nicolas,”

“Well, if we’re being semantic here, Christopher isn’t technically her kid,” Chimney gestures outward with his hands as he corrects Hen’s explanation.

“Oh please she may as well be,” Hen rolls her eyes with a scoff. “He calls her mom doesn’t he?”

“Still, biologically-”

”Guys.” Buck stops the two again, holding up both of his hands this time. “Christopher like Eddie’s Christopher?” There was absolutely no way.

“Yeah,” Chimney nods enthusiastically like Buck had just suggested a good answer for a general knowledge quiz. “They’re not married wherever you come from?”

“They’re married?” Buck swears he’s going to die all over again.

“I’ll take that as a no-”

Buck sat back down on the pulled out chair with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

You got married and had a child with his best friend?

This definitely wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Not where you were supposed to be.

You were supposed to be his, he was supposed to be yours. God you’d been through so much together, you’d pledged yourselves to each other. He had a ring waiting for you in his apartment.

You weren’t supposed to be married to anyone else. It was just wrong.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Hey,” There’s a gentle hand placed on your shoulder, and you reluctantly tear your eyes away from where Buck is lying towards the origin of the voice.

“You should take a break, you need to eat something and stretch your legs,” Eddie squeezes your shoulder gently as he stands behind you, looking over the top of your head towards the ECMO machine keeping Buck’s breathing regulated. “It’s not good for you to sit here for so long,”

”You know I can’t leave him Eddie,” You sigh softly, dragging your hands over your face to try and rub the fatigue away from your features.

“Please,” He shakes your shoulders gently under his grasp. “You know he wouldn’t want to see you like this, you need to take care of yourself too,”

“I know that…”

“But you’re not going to leave anyway?”

”I just-” You exhale heavily, stretching your back from being hunched over to rest it against the back of the plastic chair you’re sitting in. “What if something happens while I’m not here?”

“Hey,” He tugs on the chair until you’re half-facing him. “If anything happens, I will call you. I promise. Please take a few hours to look after yourself, i’ll watch over him for now,”

You glance back towards Buck’s unmoving body, with a stuttered breath, slowly standing yourself up from your chair with Eddie’s hand behind your back to make sure you don’t stumble with how long you’d been sat there.

“He’ll be okay,” You look up at Eddie with glassy eyes as he tries to reassure you. “He’s a stubborn bastard, he’s not going anywhere,”

“I hope you’re right,”

“When have I ever been wrong?” He tilts his head slightly with a small smile, a lace of joking in his tone in his effort to lighten your mood a little.

It works to an extent, a small breathy laugh leaving your mouth, joined by a small shake of your head as you pull him into a short hug.

“Go and get some food, and then some rest alright?” He pulls away from the hug after a few seconds with his hands braced on your shoulders.

“Yes sir,”

Eddie laughs shortly at your sarcasm, watching you leave the room with a reassuring smile before he takes your place in the chair to watch over Buck until your inevitable return.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“So what are we doing here exactly?” Chimney calls out to Buck as he power walks into the waiting room of the hospital, just barely able to match pace with Hen as the two follow after him.

“I’m not sure,” Buck stops abruptly once he’s inside, looking around. “I think maybe I’m supposed to come back to where it all started,”

“I guess that makes sense in the rules of this- Alternate universe,” Chimney gestures with his hands, following Buck’s turning head in gazing around the sterile white environment.

“I-I have this weird feeling, like I’m running out of time-” Buck turns to face the two with a furrowed expression and a hand pressed against his chest.

“Ooh, a ticking clock,” Chimney snaps his fingers in amusement, turning his head towards Hen who gives him a dissatisfied look. “Plot twist,”

Hen shakes her head with a roll of her eyes at Chimney, turning her attention back towards Buck. “You were having trouble breathing before right?”

“Yeah?”

“What if that wasn’t a panic attack?” She shakes her head again, but this time not in disapproval, instead in concern. “You guys are talking about this place as an alternate reality, but it’s not,” She gestures between Buck and the two of them.

“If you’re in a coma then this is all in your head, meaning that this place is still connected to that body.” She continues her theory with fervour, and Buck is increasingly grateful that at least she hasn’t changed at all. “If it can’t breathe, you can’t breathe,”

“So he feels like he’s running out of time-” Chimney’s cut off halfway through his sentence.

“Because my body is…”

Buck drags his hand down his face at the revelation. He was really at risk of dying here if he didn’t figure out how to get back quickly enough. He wanted to get back. He needed to get back. Desperately.

“Oh hey!”

Buck would recognise that voice anywhere. And it was both the most and least thing he wanted to hear right now.

“Chim, Hen, I didn’t know you guys knew Mr. Buckley,” Buck turns almost begrudgingly in the direction of your voice, a flicker of hope in his eyes as he meets your face. A flicker that immediately disappears as his eyes turn to the child in your arms.

He can’t be any older than five, and he looks just like you, except for his nose and his eyes. They matched Eddie’s features perfectly. And it felt like they were ripping his heart in two.

“Yeah uh…” The two look between each other as they question whether to divulge Buck’s predicament to you. “New acquaintances,”

“Mister Buck!” The child in your arms waves enthusiastically in Buck’s direction, a perfect mimicry of your smile on his features. He figures this must be Nicolas.

Mister Buck. That’s right, he was a teacher in this weird purgatory. He taught your’s and Eddie’s child. Like his life couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey little man,” His greeting was more than a little stunted, his attempt at masking his features clearly failing under the way concern blooms across your face. He always hated when you looked at him like that.

“Are you alright? I know you just got out of the hospital recently and you’re looking a little pale, maybe you should sit down,” You place Nicolas on the floor to guide Buck over to one of the chairs to sit down, and your touch against his arm feels both familiar and foreign at the same time.

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” He waves you off gently with a raise of his hand before bracing his arms on his knees.

“What are you doing here, everything okay?” Hen mirrors your concern towards Buck back onto you.

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” You give her a short nod as you straighten up from where you were bending to held Buck sit down, taking Nicholas’ hand in yours as he tugs on the hem of your shirt. “Just a routine check for Christopher, Eddie’s in with him at the moment,”

“Okay good, can’t have our favourite squad in duress,” Hen nods, happy with your response as she ruffles Nicolas’ hair, earning a chuckle from the boy and only sending Buck deeper into his pit of misery.

He was angry at a child, how pathetic was that.

“Speak of the devil,” Chimney nods his head down one of the hallways, and the group of you all turn your heads in the same direction.

“Daddy!” Nicholas is off immediately, running in the direction of Eddie and Christopher the second he sees them round the corner, and Eddie scoops the boy into his arms with no effort whatsoever.

He always was suited to be a dad. And that arguably made it worse for Buck to watch.

“Everything’s good?” You walk over to the three boys with your head tilted, gaze flickering between Eddie and Christopher at his side.

“All good Mi Amor, he’s perfectly fine,” Eddie presses a kiss to your temple, his free arm sliding around your waist to hold you securely against his side.

And that’s when Buck decides that he’s had enough.

He physically cannot stand to watch you with Eddie like that.

He has to get out of there.

And so he does, standing up abruptly and practically running down one of the corridors, leaving all of you to watch on after him in a mix of shock and confusion.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

When you return to Buck’s hospital room, Eddie has been replaced by Bobby. You can’t really be mad at that, Eddie has Christopher to worry about, and you know that he’s probably having just as hard of a time with Buck’s situation as you are. You can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it is for Eddie to explain the situation to him. How Buck might not wake up.

You didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Hey…” Bobby turns his head up from his rosary beads as you practically whisper out your greeting, pulling a chair over so that you can sit next to him at the foot of Buck’s hospital bed.

He looks just as wrecked as you do.

“Hey,” His hands fall into his lap, thumbs still rolling over the wooden beads as he looks over your state. “How are you holding up?”

“Not great…” You start tearing up almost immediately, hands cupping your nose and your mouth and you lean forward with your elbows on your knees.

Empathy floods Bobby’s expression as he reaches over to rub a hand up and down your back with a soft sigh, watching as silent tears roll over the back of your hands to leave dark dapple marks on your jeans.

“I’m so scared…”

“I know kid,” Bobby pulls you securely against his side with his hand rubbing lines over your arm in a futile attempt to console you, his eyes locked on Buck’s unconscious features. “I’m scared too,”

“What if he never wakes up?” You lean your head against Bobby’s shoulder with a stuttered exhale.

“He’s strong, I have faith in him,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh hey kid, fancy meeting you here,” Bobby peeks out from behind a stacked shelf of medical supplies, his tone much lighter and less serious than Buck is used to when working with him.

“Thought you were dead,”Taking a moment to catch him breath, Buck steps further into the room slowly, his tone almost accusatory as his eyes narrow, beginning to tire of running around this fictional copy of his own life. “What are you doing here?”

“You tell me, it’s your dream, I’m just living in it,” Bobby shrugs nonchalantly, rifling through some of the bottles one one of the shelves. “Living my best afterlife,”

“Uh-huh, so I am dead,”

“Close but not quite,” Bobby suddenly changes position to come from behind Buck where he was previously stood in front of him. Because apparently that’s something he can do in this version of the world.

“Hey what do you think these do?” Bobby rattles a white tube container with a hum, tipping an unnumbered amount of pills into his mouth.

“This place is way too messed up to be heaven but uh, I don’t really believe in hell,” Buck exhales with furrowed eyebrows as he tries to comprehend everything. He feels like from the moment he woke up in this place he’s been in a constant haze of confusion, and no matter how much he tries to make sense of it, he can never fully grasp what’s happening.

“I- I’m in purgatory,” He exhales sharply as he accepts his own conclusion, laughing at himself ina derogatory fashion at his apparent stupidness. “I never really understood the concept of this, is th- is this a waiting room? Do I just have to hang here until my number is called or is it like, a-a punishment, a time out— do I have to do some type of penance before I’m allowed to move on?”

“Listen kid,” Bobby pulls an orange-brown translucent bottle from his pocket. “You need to relax,” He takes a large swig from the bottle, almost animatedly. “None of this is real,”

Buck’s features visibly soften at Bobby’s word, and he lets out a short laugh. “Ah, that’s the good news,”

Bobby turns towards a large white cabinet behind him, pulling the two doors open with both hands to reveal a large medicine cabinet. “The bad news is that it can be real enough to keep you here if you let it.”

“Uh, wh-what do you mean?”

Bobby pushes the clear bottles of pills on the middle shelf to the side to reveal a large glass window behind them, gesturing towards it with his head. “Hey look, you’re alive,”

Buck furrows his eyebrows as he cautiously approaches the window, features only furrowing further as they lock onto the image of the two of you in the darkened hospital room.

“And there’s me. Ooh I busted out the rosary beads, must be serious,” The image of Bobby shows him bent forward in his chair with his hands on his knees and his rosary in his hands, muttering soft prayers under his breath as he holds the beads up to his mouth.

“And a pretty lady, your girlfriend? She doesn’t look so good,” That was an understatement. From what Buck could see of the side of your face it looked like you were crying, the tear stains on your cheeks illuminated under the florescent lighting and making his heart wrench at the sight, wanting nothing more to pull you into his arms and kiss all of those tears away.

Then he noticed himself, lying perfectly still on a hospital bed hooked up to so many different machines he wasn’t even sure if he could name them all. “How- am I there and here?”

“Well, Evan Buckley, this is your deep dark subconscious,” Bobby leans over slightly towards Buck, tone slightly ominous.

Then the sound of a door turns both of them back towards the window as they watch Athena walk into the room and place careful hands on both yours and Bobby’s shoulders. “Oh hey, can we back up for a second? Are you telling me that’s my wife?” He exhales through his nose with a nod of satisfaction. “I mean, some things did work out for me didn’t they?”

“Do you know what’s happening to me in there?” Buck’s eyes lock on to what he can see of himself through furrowed eyebrows.

“Depends on how you look at it,” Bobby’s eyes follow his own, and he shrugs nonchalantly. “You could be dying, you could be fighting for your life. It’s kind of up to you,”

Bobby leans over towards Buck once again as he continues to stare at himself. “Which way you leaning?”

“I- don’t know,” Buck blinks softly, seemingly going over the pros and cons in his head. “This felt pretty great at first but… Then the Doug thing happened, then you, and then…” His eyes flicker towards where your sat once more, a soft sigh leaving his mouth.

“Well, I don’t think you can bring me back from the dead even in here, but…” Bobby crosses his arms loosely over his chest. “I think you can fix the Doug thing, maybe even the Eddie thing,”

“Wo- Would that actually work?”

“I don’t know, I’m not exactly bound by the laws of physics and logic here,” Bobby shrugs again and leans forward slightly. “I know what you know,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Athena walks over to Buck’s hospital bed with a sigh, gently laying her hand on Buck’s wrist to rub small circles against his skin. “I don’t know if you can hear me Evan Buckley, but I do know that you never give up. So don’t start now.” She shakes her head with an exasperated exhale, her tone still authoritative despite her obvious emotion towards the situation.

“Bobby has lost… two children. He cannot survive losing you.” She sighs softly, squeezing his wrist just a little. “And your girlfriend, oh the poor girl… She’s distraught over you. You can’t propose to her if you’re like this. So wake up damn it.” She raises her voice ever so slightly at the end of her sentence out of frustration. Mostly at herself, that she cant do anything to help get him out of the situation he’s in.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Wake up.”

“Yeah I’m trying.” Buck gestures exasperatedly with his hands as he walks back towards the hospital waiting room with Bobby following after him. “Just need to figure out what to fix to get back.”

“Maybe you should just give up.” Buck glances over his shoulder at Bobby’s ‘suggestion’, his harsh words contrasting his jovial tone. “Did you know that you were clinically dead for three minutes? Things aren’t looking good for you,”

“How come you’re such a jerk in this reality?” Buck’s tone shift to border frustration as he continues to walk with Bobby following after him.

“Because I am loosing patience.” Buck turns around with a furrowed expression, and the two stop in the middle of the corridor, locked in a stalemate.

“When are you gonna learn?” Bobby crosses his arms over his chest. “Brother’s die, children and their wives die, sisters get beat up by their husbands, girlfriends move on and find someone better, you can’t fix everything.”

“Well I fixed you.” Buck borders on shouting in anger at Bobby’s words.

“Oh really? How?” Bobby stares at him blankly as he anticipates an answer.

Buck takes a few seconds to respond, his eyes narrowing once he’s found his answer. “’Cause I joined the 118… And I mad you mad. And I made you cry. And I made you laugh sometimes, you know?” He exhales sharply, gesturing between himself and Bobby.

“I drove you crazy, but I think you spent so much time trying to make sure that I didn’t get myself killed, that it made you remember what it is to live.”

“So basically,” Bobby meets Buck’s gaze with his own. “You were Buck,”

“Yeah,” Buck seems to relax a little once he’d got everything off his chest, features softening. “I was Buck,”

“And that’s enough?”

Buck turns his gaze down to the ground as he takes a few seconds to think about it, a small breath of a laugh leaving his mouth as he makes his decision. “I think it is,”

“Looks like someone just figured out the answers for himself,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A small group of you stand in Buck’s hospital room as they prepare to disconnect Buck from the ventilator. The priority visitors. His parents stood side by side, wrapped up in each other for mutual comfort, Maddie was hugging herself as an act of self-comfort, and Bobby was stood with his hand on your shoulder trying to comfort you.

The nurse carefully removes the ECMO covering Buck’s mouth and steps back towards the foot of his hospital bed. “And now we wait, see if he takes a spontaneous breath on his own,”

There’s about thirty seconds of silence before the regular beeping of Buck’s heart monitor changes to a jarring sharp sound, and Maddie turns towards the nurse with an anxious expression. “What’s wrong?”

“His oxygen is dropping,” The nurse’s tone is not at all reassuring. “If he doesn’t take a breath in the next few seconds we’re gonna have to reconnect him to the ventilator,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Right uh, this, this is all happening inside my head, which means I’ve been talking to myself this whole time,” Buck takes a sharp breath in as he looks over the perfect mirror of himself in front of him, who gives him a hum with a condescending expression.

“Upside— uh, I don’t have to feel bad about not listening to you anymore-” He shakes his head towards his mirror image before turning to ignore him, swiping all of the bottles off of the shelves to further reveal the glass window, beginning to pull the shelves off of their supports.

“What are you doing?” His mirror laughs sarcastically as he watches.

“I have to get back, I’m running out of time!”

“It’s impossible. There’s no way in there. You’re stuck with me.”

“It’s not impossible!” Buck shouts to be heard over this negative side of himself. “There is not a locked room anywhere that, with the right tools and enough time, you can’t break into.”

He takes a deep breath to regulate his volume, staring at himself with a determined expression. “ I know that.” He lets out a short laugh as he gains a sudden weight in his hand, a bright red fire axe, one that he’d used so many times in the past. “’Cause I’m a firefighter.”

“There’s nothing for you in that room. No one in there needs you.”

“I’m not going back for them. I’m going back for me.” Buck gives the mirror of himself a final look of disgust before turning to swing the axe as hard as he can into the glass, a loud shattering sound verberating through his ears.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You all watching in a terrible anxious anticipation as the jarring beeps continue to blare with no indication of change, your eyes locked on Buck’s face as you all desperately will for him to take a breath without any assistance.

And then he does, and the whole room immediately falls into tears. His parents cling to each other with loud sobs, Maddie’s shoulders tremble as she cups a hand over her mouth, and your knees almost give out underneath you if not for the added support of Bobby keeping you upright.

To say you were all relieved was a universally large understatement.

You were sure you’d never felt happier in your life to know the love of your life was okay. And god forbid you ever let him leave your side again.

[hitlikehammers]

Post S4 Steddie featuring Russian-Hostage!Steve (again) and Ransom Notes Sent to His Family (!)—hilarious

...but is it?

Steve doesn’t remember getting drunk as fuck. In fact, he…

This doesn’t even feel like a hangover, not exactly. There’s the headache, the stomach-lurching, but there’s a, a weight almost. Something in his limbs that feels off and too stiff but also like noodles, if you could make noodles out of lead. This, this kinda feels like—

His hand goes automatically to his neck, near his jaw, tries to see if he can feel—

Ah. Okay. Yep. Already scabbed over the injection site. Must’ve been something else this time, like probably a bigger needle. Sedative to start, maybe. Like the appetizer course.

Steve starts chuckling to himself—no off-the-books truth serum needed to get hysterical, not this time—as he tosses himself to lying back down, only then really clocking the cuffs on his wrists and, well.

At least he’s not in a fucking sailor suit.

——

When he calms down, and no one’s come for him into his very unexciting grey-stone cell for enough minutes to trust in a lull, at least, where he can just…just try and think?

He does in fact think he’s got something of an outline for maybe, like, the first leg of the story: they had to have gotten him after work.

Probably right after work, between locking up and getting to his car. He closed alone last nigh—

Well. The last time he remembers being at Family Video, he was closing alone. If he’s waking up drugged, it’s probably not super smart to just assume it was ‘last night’ by default.

Not that he’s sure it even matters, but.

Everyone knew he was closing. And everyone, except his boyfriend and sometimes Robs, knows to leave him be for a good twelve-to-twenty-four hours to recover when he’s soloing for the late shift on a weekend. Fucking brutal, honestly. Plus there’s a stormfront on the way and he’s had a migraine brewing at the back of his skull for days that was due to explode the minute he clocked out. Rob’s in Chicago scoping colleges, wasn’t gonna be back until midday after his shift anyway. Eddie was doing the same, but in Indy, looking to book gigs—he’d get back around sunup, probably, and he might come by as his first stop home, in fact he usually does and...

If anyone’s noticed Steve’s missing? Or will, maybe soon?

Might…might actually be Eddie, first.

Steve feels…more than a little tight in the chest, in his throat, having to think about it; imagining if the tables were turned.

So he shifts tacks, moves quick to trying and figure out what the fuck he’s been abducted for in the first place—yeah they’re gearing up for the eventual final showdown with Vecna, but once the ash stopped raining, and the sky went back to generally regular colors, and the government paid to fill in enough of the ‘earthquake’ damage for the roads that were still drivable to be noticeably better than they were pre-apocalypse? People generally calmed down, so. He really doesn’t know who the fuck’s got it out for him. He actually hasn’t broken his NDA, particularly considering he doesn’t even socialize with anyone anymore who hasn’t signed one themselves, and therefore doesn’t count on the subject of keeping to the terms of service, and honestly? Even peak-Vecna with his clock bullshit didn’t have a real-world army to do his bidding because, like: shit. That’s still the thing he’s pissy about, right? So.

It’s not like whoever’s-got-him-chained-up-because-if-anything-they’re-more-serious-about-imprisonment-than-he’s-encountered-before—but whoever they are, Steve cannot for the life of him figure out a good reason for them to be after him on Upside Down business.

So, like: the fuck, you know?

He’s trying to figure out property damage, like did he ruin someone’s prize roses when he was driving that RV, or else; was the couple who owned that RV, like, retired assassins and they’d been gearing up for revenge this whole time? That was plausibl—

The door—thicker, heavier than Steve actually was guessing—swings open with a godawful screech before he can weigh the likelihoods of the wife, or husband, or both having been secretly cold-blooded-killers, and in walks…

Oh. Oh, so…it is actually that predictable. Same script, different scenery.

Because Steve knows that fucking uniform, and it’s actually involuntary, swear to god, the way he sighs.

He gets slapped for it, which would hurt less than the first go around—those gut shots had been brutal—if the asshole hadn’t been wearing rings.

Not nice ones like Eddie’s, either. Ones meant to fucking tear skin and peel at the layers beneath it, too. Bear down to the bone, if given the time.

Steve feels the blood drip down toward his mouth, but there’s enough that he tastes it on the air before it even rolls past his lips. He’s panting a little, more for the sake of the impact, like the shock of it, but even then he hears it. The…weird whirring through the open door and he tries to catch his breath so he can focus, because there’s something…familiar about it, something he should know—

“Who do you work for?”

He snaps back to what’s in front of him and fuck, god, so: same script.

But, but: literally.

He instinctively curls his fingernails against his palms; knee jerk reaction. And fucking justified, too.

“Video store,” Steve answers because, what else, and good thing he’s still wearing his vest, was taking it home to wash because it smelled too much like…store. He nods down at the logo on his chest, pulled awkward and lying askew but pretty goddamn clear. “Like VHS tapes. Movies.”

He gets another slap. He’s grateful for even more reasons that Robin’s not with him this time. They’re not even proper Russian cinephiles, she’d be so offended on principle.

“I mean,” Steve decides in a split second to play along, to roll the dice with his chances on his lonesome and be grateful—and maybe because the thought of Robin, following the thought of Eddie and his rings, all weaves together to make him bold, but also make him desperate: he doesn’t want them in danger. Doesn’t want anyone goaded by these bastards into coming for him, wherever he is, and getting themselves hurt. Or worse.

So: maybe goading this captors into thinking he’s not worth the time anymore and making this quick?

Maybe that’s the card he’s gotta play.

“I’m guessing you think I know shit because of Starcourt,” and yep. Eyes get big for that being slid across the metaphorical table so casual. But Steve’s more impressed at himself because the minute he says it? The humming sound, the whirring? It clicks.

It’s what he heard in that underground lab. With that machine. With them trying to, to tear open—

“I don’t, for the record, know anything, Steve clarifies; “but if I’m like, missing for too long? My friends are gonna flip, and last time my friends were with me, y’know, so this time,” Steve sucks at his front teeth and shakes his head, and it fools them while it grounds him: two-for-one.

“They’ll freak, basically. Especially after last time,” his boldness lasts him through tossing his captors—maybe torturers—a judgmental quirk of his brow.

“Probably gonna tell Hopper like, y’know, chief of police,” he adds, blames Eddie for the theatricality buried in it as he purses his lips and nods like he’s considering; tries not to dwell on a deeper reason for why these bastards are letting him talk—nope. Nope, shove those thoughts down, just keep talking yourself, ignore the steady trickle of blood down to his tongue as he yaps.

“And Hopper, hell, it’s not his first rodeo, so he’ll probably call the suits,” Steve presses on Because what else does he have, what else can he do, he can barely fucking move; “you know, like you,” he nods at the medals on the very Soviet-style uniform; “but the American version. He’s got friends. So.”

And Steve manages to stare the fucker down, just eye-to-eye as the man scowls, glances at his associate standing closer to the door and—

Yep: yep. Another slap with those rings. Steve can’t pretend the blood’s not spilling from the line where the impact dug out his skin. He’s glad there’s no mirror; can only imagine what it looks like.

Sure as fuck knows what it feels like.

“I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know,” Steve doesn’t even think he’s trying to reason with them, wonders idly if he’s like, some Russian-identified spokesman now for all things spy-y and otherworldly, like if his picture’s on a cork board with strings going around it as the number-one suspect-slash-target-to-pump-for-nonexistent-info.

Fucking fantastic.

“I work for a video store, dude,” he finishes with, and it doesn’t even come out desperate, or pleading—it’s way closer to resigned.

“We will see.”

The man grabs Steve’s chin rough, too rough and for a second? Steve’s a little afraid he’s gonna try to snap his neck but he just shoved him back, straight into the wall—cracks his spine a little, but. Actually, given his limited range of motion, it kinda gets out at least a couple kinks. Huh.

Silver linings, or whatever.

But then they’re leaving, and something leaps in Steve chest uncomfortably, just as something sinks in his stomach and the whirring, the hum from beyond the door sinking with it, too—ominous—and he’s lunging against his restraints without thinking, cringing for the bite of the metal but there’s…something in him wants more time with these people. To figure them out. Maybe just to stall for time or find the one last straw to break and get himself beaten to death, no longer a threat to his friends by proxy.

“We have Sour Patch Kids, now!” Steve calls out on a freak instinct, a stupid desperate whim as they walk out, maybe more to drown out the whirring, the pit that’s opening in his stomach for all the memories its familiarity dredges up; “can totally hook you guys up!”

The door shakes the air somehow, but not the walls, or Steve’s chains, when it slams closed and Steve can’t hear the machine anymore, it’s all cut off and—

Holy shit, Steve is so fucked.

——

They keep sliding sandwiches and water through a hole they literally lock and unlock in the thick-as-fuck-special-soundproof door. Steve is reminded weirdly—or not, it all looks perfectly normal—but given the circumstances, he thinks he’s justified to be thrown back to that lime-green battery acid they’d considered drinking in the elevator: and that, probably more than anything, is why he refuses to touch a single bit of what’s shoved into his cell.

Well: that and then also the fact that no one actually comes in for a long stretch of time, and there’s no noise, save for…the hum. Only when they open the little hatch for food, at first but…then it increases. Then it somehow overrides what Steve imagines to be a pretty fucking effective insulation job to make everything thus far so soundproofed; so deadened. The fact that it even bleeds through a little sinks sicker in his stomach than hunger ever could.

Because definitely, one-hundred-percent, in case there’s been any doubts hanging on: it’s the machine, the thing they were using before to rip holes in…the world. As if Hawkins needed any more but—

The Russians want to know who he works for, and they’re trying to unleash the Upside Down. Again.

Jesus Christ.

It might be comical, the repetition after everything, with even less reason—the gates have been shut and sealed now almost a full year and shit, the whole party had been banging on about a cookout to celebrate, to sneak in one good thing before it was time to strike against Vecna for the last time, and Steve really hopes they don’t abandon the well-earned party for the sake of his imminent demise but, point is: it would be comical, almost definitely, if it weren’t so fucking horrifying.

They thought this was over. This part at least, the peripherals. Steve was the last real holdout to be on high alert, everyone was trusting in the alert system that was El and Will and even him and Eddie a little bit from the bats, all connected to some degree with activity in the Upside Down and everyone else was counting on that and trying to live in the middle while they could and…shit.

Look where it got Steve, giving in to the hope for an end in sight, and maybe even a happy one at that.

It runs sick through his veins, now that he’s thinking about it, about any of the possible outcomes and ramifications beyond this cell and…basically Steve’s glad he hasn’t trusted a bite or a sip of anything they’ve left him, lest he have to endure anything worse than dry heaving in captivity.

——

Eveually, Steve goes back to counting out the positives. It’s a fairly safe subject. Morbid, maybe, but what else has he got?

His friends aren’t here. He’s lonely, but honestly, even if that’s a part of his life that’s seen major improvement the past couple years? It’s not something he isn’t used to, can’t work with. But if his friends aren’t here? They’re safe. El or Will can tell there’s something weird with the Upside Down if the machine gets powerful enough, they’ll all be able to come up with a plan and strike when the time’s right, and Steve…

Steve can survive a little longer, at least as a distraction, even if he’s apparently a shitty one since people aren’t coming in to ask about the latest new releases, or smack his other cheek and give him a matching set of bloody gouges.

The machine, also—and why he figures he might not outlive the time it takes for the others to notice a disturbance in the Force—ha, they’re not even here to appreciate his wholly unprompted and almost definitely correct nerd reference, but that’s good: they’re not here, they’re safe—but the machine is humming, and turned on? But even at a distance it should be louder. It should be louder to destroy the world.

They’re not there yet. They’re not there yet; there’s still time, and Steve may not be there to help everyone fight, to protect them but—

There’s time.

And then like, of course, full circle: no Scoops uniform, check—those shorts bunched up his ass like nobody’s business. He cannot forget that as a massive plus, here, because come on, think about it: decked out like a shitty ice cream sailor on an ocean of flavor, Jesus.

Just a flat out shitty way to have to die.

——

“We have sent the ransom demands.”

Steve blinks; he was kinda spacing out. He probably shouldn’t be able to do that. The machine isn’t any louder—yet—but it’s…ambient, in a way.

Morbid, probably. Again.

The lack of eating or drinking might be getting to him. He really should have eaten before his shift.

“The what?” Steve blinks some more because…maybe if he can see clearer he can hear the words in a way that’ll make sense.

Jesus fuck, he should probably start being concerned about his…overall cognitive function or whatever, at this point.

Or something.

“You are a rich man,” the main bastard, with the rings, looms over Steve with a skeevy little grin, cracks his knuckles and how, he’s watched Eddie struggle because it’s so hard to get your fingers in the right position to do it with rings on—

“You’ve got the wrong guy, pal, look at these shoes,” Steve shakes his head while he kicks his feet out: “very last season.”

They’re still fucking excellent shoes, but. High-school-him wouldn’t have been caught dead in them.

Ha. Haha. Graduated-useless-townie-him is gonna get caught dead in them. Ha.

Add that to the positives list, because irony is sometimes funny. He listens when Robin tells him about her boring-ass art movies. Because Robin’s opinions matter, regardless of the topic.

“Property records,” the lackey who stands behind points out and it takes Steve a second to catch up…rich man. Property records.

Ransom note—

Oh fuck, but he cannot help himself. He snorts.

And then he laughs hard enough that both his captors actually look concerned which: fair. If he had information, it’s probably hard to wring anything useful out of somehow who’s totally lost their mind.

“Dude,” Steve wheezes, and then gets back to cackling because it’s too funny, just the picture in his head—

“Dude, no,” he shakes his head over and over and gets a little dizzy but who can even blame him. Richard and Amelia Harrington, paying their failure of a son’s ransom to the Russians?!

Fuck, they’d be better off putting up a shitty politician and soliciting their donations. Like the whole thing with mayor what’s-his-face.

Steve really doesn’t need any black market drugs to find it hilarious and, like, honestly.

Going out laughing isn’t the worst way to die, so. Seriously.

Mark that down for topping the list of goddamn positives.

——

He doesn’t actually know how long it’s been, but the time does come where he gives in, and is therefore eating the morning and the afternoon sandwiches he’s been left—they don’t take the uneaten stuff until he’s sleeping, given that he’s never seen them do it and the old food’s always gone. He’s only guessing that he gets three plates a day, and…well. He remembers something Erika said about three days without water being the limit for the human body and it sure as fuck felt like it, and poison seemed a better alternative than thirst as reasons for kicking the bucket, so.

Least it wasn’t the neon acid; little mercies. Gotta remember that.

But on an empty stomach it had gone down easy and quick for desperation, but fuck if now it didn’t hurt which: in for a penny, or whatever the saying was. He didn’t understand it. Just knew it fit the situation. Kinda.

Probably.

He’s curled up now, though, kinda moaning super pathetically, almost loud enough to drown out the machine’s hum even, for the way his stomach roils and he tries to distract himself; tries to think…

He is just clearheaded enough to recognize how morbid he’s being, again—but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. And also it’s relevant, so fuck you, morbid-police.

But: Max’s letters. They’re what comes to mind.

He doesn’t have paper. Or a pen. Or something to etch into the floor with. So it’s just a…thought exercise. That’s what they’re called, right?

Whatever. Distraction. He cannot die covered in his own puke, that’s one bridge too far, so he needs to focus. Not on the state of his intestines.

So…start with, who should he start with?

Hmm. Hmmmmmm.

El. She’ll figure things out first so:

Dear El

Solid start. Good job, Steve.

You are fucking extraordinary, and it’s not for being able to move stuff with your mind. You’re so strong, and brave, and selfless. I look up to you. I like when they call you Supergirl, but, like, those are the reasons why. Keep finding reasons for laughing, remember you’re entitled to extra because of all the dark years you came back stronger from. Remember the way you are and the way you think and the things you do are awesome and you don’t have to relearn anything you don’t want to, or change anything you don’t want to, to fit in. People should be trying to be more like you.

Love you, Supergirl.

P.S. there’s a freezer in the basement fucking loaded with Eggos. All yours. 

Hey. That’s a solid letter. He’s not bad at this.

Then his stomach lurches and apparently he’s not even allowed to celebrate his wins, okay, fucking cool.

Who’s next, who’s next…

Dear Dustin, and maybe that’s the best way; this is gonna hurt like hell just thinking about so maybe, like, that’s the best way to distract himself.

Okay. Okay. All or nothing.

You die, I die was a general feeling, thing, not a real thing. So take care of yourself, for real, okay? Lean on people. If the other shitheads aren’t what you need, turn to Robin. Turn to Eddie. Promise me you’ll be everything you’re meant to be. I’m so proud to know you, man, always. All the things about you are things worth being proud of.

Talk to Eddie about tone, though. Like, when the time’s right.

Thanks for being the first person to show me what family’s really like, what it’s supposed to be. You’re mine, y’know. Like, you’re my brother, but then, you’re also my friend. Thanks for that, too. I love you, man.

P.S. They discontinued The Hairspray. Be on the lookout for a good replacement, and conserve what you have for special occasions. 

The cuts on his cheeks are apparently not yet healed over enough not to burn when the tears streak through. Awesome.

Definitely fucking distracting so…run with it, he guesses.

Dear Max,

Thanks for the idea. 

Cop out. Absolute cop out. He means it, this is helpful, he hasn’t barfed yet which is really the point but.

He’s being a coward, now. Seriously.

It needs to hurt. If he actually put himself into writing Max’s it’d be ugly, but…

Go big or go home. And he’s never going home again, is he, so:

Dear Robin

Fuck. Fuck, his breath catches with just those two words.

I’m really glad we never figured out how to meld into a single being, because I don’t want you here when…you know. When.

But I wish you were here in a safe way, if that makes sense, and somehow were possible. They don’t call them soulmates for no reason. And I never called you mine without meaning it.

If there’s anything after, I will miss you through all of it with everything I am and hope like hell when the time’s right—like at least 90 years from now and no less, you understand?—I get to see you again. Maybe then we can work on the melding thing and get it right.

I liked being your dingus. So much. And I will always be your capital-P soulmate.

I’m sorry. 

He doesn’t even remember his stomach hurting from the sandwiches, anymore, or drinking the water too fast. He’s sick for so much bigger reasons, now. Everything fucking hurts.

That’s the point, he reminds himself, that’s the point, so:

Dear Eddie—

He chokes on the air, just for the thought, because here’s the tipping point. Here’s where he breaks.

He can’t. He can’t.

He loves all of them. All of them.

But he’s only in love with one. Like he’s never loved before. Like he’s never been loved back before, not ever.

He doesn’t know if it’s possible to pass out from heartache, or if it’s more the not eating, or drinking, or if he’s feverish, maybe the cuts on his cheeks from the rings are infected and he’s on borrowed time in more ways than one.

Doesn’t matter. He can’t write a letter to Eddie, not even in his head. And he doesn’t want to think about what it means, such a nonexistent-mental-letter.

Someone told him once that if you were falling to your death, you’d pass out before impact. Like…like self-preservation in your last few seconds or something.

Steve thinks—with the way everything fades to black in seemingly seconds—he thinks this is…kinda like that.

So the big question now is:

DOES HE SURVIVE? SHOULD HE GET RESCUED?!?!

*chews nails, or hair, or—*

yeah, like that

For @devondespresso, who requested 'Nightmares' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST (sorry it's in the contexts of LIVING ONE OUT) and incidentally also for @steddie-week for the Day Two prompt 'Hands' (which okay if you DO NOT want a rescue it's only in mean violent ways but...he could be rescued)

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth @mensch-anthropos-human

divider credits here

ao3 link here ✨

[dreamysturniolo57]

Insomnia - Matt Sturniolo

Summary: You moved to England when you were 13, but you've been home for a month which means you met the sturniolo triplets again who you grew up with. You all missed each other and now you are at their house for a sleepover. At night you can't sleep so you decide to go to the kitchen and then everything turns upside down.

Warning: swearing/p in v/ sweet talk

Orange: Chris

Blue: Matt

Green: Nick

Pink: reader

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Nick and I were singing 'Had me at hello' from that Disney movie. We were playing karaoke. It was just the four of us. Chris was recording and I felt that someone was burning a hole in my back with his eyes. I knew it was Matt. I heard him laughing at us. He was too cool for things like this. I was having so much fun. I really missed these idiots. When we finished I layed down on the comfy couch and drank some water.

That was fun. You really have a great voice Y/N.

Yeah, you should sing more. -Chris said then put his phone down.

Thanks. Actually i like singing. -I said and put some popcorn in my mouth. For a second I looked at Matt just to not feel himself left out but he was staring at me. I don't know why but i couldn't held the contact so I turned my face the other side.

So what should we play next? -I asked rubbing my palms together.

Easy. Truth or truth.

Come on! -I said and rolled my eyes.

I'm down!

Me too. -Matt finally spoke. Great.

I sighed and prepared myself for the worst. I sat up and crossed my legs on eachother.

I'm going first! Chris have you ever had 3 days off of showering?

No, gross! Never. -we all laughed.

Y/N have you had a boyfriend in England?

I did. -they all smiled at my answer except for one person.

You gonna tell me about it girlll.

Okay. Matt... Have you ever eaten cucumber with peanut butter? -I asked him and looked in his eyes.

Unfortunately yes. -He said. I should have known he had. Sometimes they have crazy ideas. The game continued and we asked each other lots of funny questions, but then Chris asked me something I didn't want to answer.

Have you ever had a crush on one of us? -my smile disappeared and my throat constricted.

That's a stupid question. -I said and crossed my arms.

So you did. -he smiles at me. Chris some day i'll kill you... I thought. They looked at me curiously.

No! Of course not. We grew up together. -I answered.

Don't lie! -so Nick is already attacking. Super.

At least tell who would you choose? -I looked at Chris with murderous eyes. Then for some reason I looked at Matt. He watched me with a calm face.

Okay. Easy. I would choose Nick. You happy? -I asked and I sipped another dose of water to relieve my tension.

Lame. -he said.

Don't be a dick. -Matt told him. I looked at him and he noticed it. I gave him a hint of a smile.

When we felt it was time to go to bed, we all retired. I was sleeping with Nick. I've always been the closest to him, and maybe he was the only one who noticed that I was hopelessly falling for Matt. When I moved away it felt like ripping my heart out. Then I came back and I could barely recognize them and when I saw how much Matt changed all the feelings surfaced. They were never buried actually.

I was trying to sleep but Nick was snoring so loud. I turned my head and tried to shut out the sound, but I couldn't. I smiled at him and shook my head. I stood up and quietly went out. Then I carefully opened Chris's door, but I saw that he was sleeping sprawled on the bed. Great... I decided to go to the kitchen to drink some cocoa. It always helped me. I sat down and turned the little light which was above the stove. I was lost in my thoughts when I heard footsteps.

Can't sleep? -he asked and sat in front of me.

When did Nick start snoring like a bear? -he smiled at me and shook his head.

About 3 years ago. -he answered and crossed his arms. I cheekily grazed my eyes on his tattooed arm. I've never thought he is going to get one.

Did you hear when i came out? -I asked and sipped my cocoa.

Yeah but I thought you were Chris. I bought some muffins and I hid it because he always finds it. -I just laughed.

Well, don't worry. I'm not gonna eat it.

I'm happy to share it with you. -he said smiling.

Thanks, I will take the opportunity. -I responded.

Ah..I'm so tireeed. -I cried out like a baby.

You can sleep with me. -he offered then I gulped.

I don't want to bother you. You must be tired too. -I said and tried to avoid his eye contact.

Not really. I think i might have insomnia or something. Lately I've been sleeping late. -he srugghed and smiled.

You sure you don't mind? Because I checked Chris but he was sleeping like a starfish and I...-

Come on Y/N. I'm here for you too. -he said. He extended his hand to me as he stood up and nodded. I took his hand and let him pull me up from the chair, then without breaking the contact of our hands, he led me to his room. I saw blue led lights around the ceiling, which made the room very cozy. Blue is also my favourite colour.

Feel yourself home. -he said.

Thanks. -I said trying not to blush or anything like that. My stomach was flilping of excitement and I was so shy.

You need anything?

No. I'm good. -I sat down on his bed and smoothed the wine red silk cover. Matt always had a really good taste. I layed down and covered my legs with the blanket because I was wearing shorts which was too short. I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. He laid down next to me on his back putting one arm under his head. I was just staring at him.

So tell me about that insomnia. What's wrong? -I asked and put both of my hands under my face.

Okay, i'm not sure I have it. I just.. can't sleep. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes. And it's really tiring. -he sighed then continued. -I turn around a lot and feel restless.

Have you tried camila tee? Or something...-

I've tried everything. Believe me. -he sad and finally looked in my eyes. The heck... My pulse got faster.

I'll find something for you.

Thanks Ms. England.

Shut up. -I laughed.

You do have some accent. The cool british one. -he said imitating me.

That's not my fault. I lived there. Of course my accent changes. -I said.

I like it. It's cute for you. -he said. I felt a lump in my throat, which was difficult for me to swallow. I suddenly turned to my other side, involuntarily bringing the blanket with me and this led to my bottom showing. These damn pajamas only reached the bottom of my butt line.

Good night. -I said. He didn't say anything. He just inhaled the air sharply. Then I felt a squirm and that the bed was sinking right next to me.

Can I ask something? -Matt was so close to my ear I could feel his breath tickling my neck.

Yeah...-I said in a questoning tone.

Why did you lie?

About what? -I asked back still looking forward at the wall.

About who would you pick. You rubbed your right ear when you said it would be Nick. When you lie you always poke your right ear. -as he spoke i was 100% sure he was inches away from my right ear. The air stuck in my lungs and tried to calm down. How the fuck he knows I do that when I lie??!

I.. I don't know what you are talking about. -i said.

I know you do. Don't lie. -he said. Fuck.... why is he doing this to me? I was shaking inside. My stomach convulsed.

And what if I was lying? It's just a stupid game. -i groaned.

It was called Truth or truth. -how detailed he has become.

I don't care. And I don't rub or poke my ear if i'm lying. -I said.

You don't? -when he asked that, I felt his lips touch my ear. I squealed and i suddenly forgot how to breath. Then he kissed the skin behind my ear and my mind was blown. My chest rose rapidly and I squeezed the blanket. He kissed it again and he bit my earlobe too. I wasn't sure if this was real or I was dreaming. I closed my eyes and sighed.

Tell me if I was wrong. -he murmured at my neck and kissed it.

I...-I started but i wasn't able to put a normal sentence together. I was dumb. I bit my lip instead and tried not to moan. One of his hands caressed my waist then it slid to my stomach.

Tell me who did you really want to say. -he said while his hand started going under my shirt. I couldn't stop sighing. It felt like an eletric shock when his skin met mine.

Y-you...-I squeezed out of my lips. He was still kissing my neck and behind my ear. I saw dimly and I could barely open my eyes. I'm sure I looked like Bella Swan when Edward was sucking the vampire poison out of her.

That's what I wanted to hear. -he whispered. Here is where the thread broke for me. He was still close to me so I turned my head to face him and I pulled him down putting my palm on his neck. Our lips finally met and it felt like fireworks. He crawled my skin gently under my shirt then it went higher right where my tits were. He was still on top of me and I was lying on my side under him. He cupped my breast giving each mound a squeeze. I moaned into his mouth. He was eating my lips and i didn't mind. Soon I turned on my back so he can totally tower over me. Our legs were tangled. We didn't break the kiss not for a second. I grabbed his hair and pulled it then I caressed it. I've always loved how fluffy it was. He spread my legs and held one up to his waist and caressed it gently. The room was filled with heat and tension. The blue lights made it even exciting. I ran my fingers down to his shirt and he broke off just long enough to take off his shirt and throw it on the floor. I smiled at him and he attacked my neck again. He licked it and bit it gently. I was totally losing my mind.

Ah...-I moaned. I grabbed his hair again.

Can I take this off? -he asked holding my shirt between his fingers. I nodded and helped him by lifting my self up. He started going down with his kisses and he kissed every inch of my breast including my twins. He reached my stomach kissing and biting it. My eyes were closed and I was grabbing the edge of the pillow with both hands.

Matt...-I moaned his name from my lips.

Yeah? Is something wrong? Shit I went too far didn't I?-he asked and he crawled towards me again.

Please.... Do something. -I said squeezing my legs together. He felt my move and smiled at me.

Down there. Right? -he whispered near my lips. He left a soft kiss on them then he slowly led his hand to my shorts. I was holding on his neck sometimes caressing his hair. I let out a sigh when he touched my clit.

So wet. -he murmured in my ear. I crawled his back. I was aching for his touch. He continued caressing my center area and he put one finger inside me. I could feel the knot was building up in my abdomen.

One more... please...-I sighed pressing my lips. He complied with my request and inserted a second finger.

M-matt I'm gonna... I - suddenly he pulled out his fingers and I groaned in displeasure.

Noo! -I said and put my hand down so I can finish it myself but he grabbed it and put both of my hands next to my head.

How impatient. You know I can give you pleasure with...-he started and pressed his lap against mine. I bit my lip of the thought him being inside of me.

You want it? -he asked looking in my eyes.

Yes. I want you. -I said looking deeply in his eyes. He smiled at me and slowly pulled my pajama shorts along with my panties. He reached out to his nightstand and pulled out a condom.

Why do you have these? -I asked. I wondered how many girls he takes in his room.

Because I'm responsible?!- He said in a questioning tone.

So you bring a lot of girls here?-I asked.

I bought these when you moved back. And I don't bring anyone here. There's only one girl who can sleep in my bed and that's you. -he sighed and caressed my face.

So you mean...you are a virgin? -I asked raising my eyebrows.

No. I just didn't bring anyone here. -i smiled at him, then placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

Are you still...? -he asked this time.

I only did it once. -I said pressing my lips.

I wish I was your first. -he muttered.

You are Matt. Since we were little kids. -I said caressing his hair. He smiled at me and kissed my cheeks.

If something hurts just say and I'll stop baby. -he said and slowly pushed himself up. I bit my lip trying to hold back the painful waves.

Oh...gosh. -he cried out burying his face in my neck. He pulled out then pushed himself back and he did it again and again.

You okay? Does it hurts? -he asked looking at my face.

No. I'm alright just ahh....-i moaned when i lifted my hips a little to get comfortable.

Please Matty...-I could barely speak. He let out a little laugh and started moving. He started kissing my neck again leaving wet kisses on it.

You are so tight. -he groaned. I was trying to be quiet because I didn't want to wake the others up. He hold my legs up pressing it to my chest. He thrusted deeper and I put my palm on my mouth.

Fuck...-I cried out. His movements got faster and deeper and I was losing my mind. He intertwined our fingers and now I put my legs around his waist.

I...I love you. -he said while he started slowing down and he hit that pleasant spot. I dropped my head back for a moment.

I love you too. -I said putting my palms around his neck pulling him down for an intense kiss. He gave me the final thrust and I felt my walls clenched his dick. He moaned and stayed deep inside me then collapsed. I was trying to catch my breath but it wasn't easy.

You are amazing. -he said smoothing my hear out of my face. We were sweaty.

No no. You are. -I sighed out closing my eyes. He pulled out of me and pulled down the condom putting his boxers on. He grabbed my stuff and put it on the bed. He climbed over me again kissing every inch of my face. I laughed and felt like a little girl.

I could bear it if I had insomnia because of you. -he whispered.

Shut up. -I said. I put on my shirt and panties then laid on his chest.

This was all I ever wanted. -he said caressing my cheek.

Well I would say the same. I missed you. Actually I missed you more than Chris and Nick. But don't tell them. -he giggled at my statement.

I won't. -he responded. We were making eye contact for a long time and it's so hard to believe that this all just happened. Finally I was his.

[toram-toram]

Okay but I think Chilchuck should be a pirate straight up.

He's small and good with his hands so he'd be a good bosun (Guy who climbs the ropes and fusses with the sales) and pirates actually split up their wages really well and would even pay severance for injury or early retirement.

Also imo him hanging upside down from the ropes? like his shirt's down around his neck as he holds a bit of the rope in his mouth, trying to pick out a knot, legs tangled up in the netting. awoOGA

maybe this is a little plain idk 🫣

But if you were a selkie or a siren or something? And you get tangled in a net or caught or seperated from your pod?? He'd immediately turn red and insist you wear a goddamn shirt, first of all, and then he'd get all horny sailor about it... Who knows, maybe you and he'd hop into one of the rescue boats to get a little privacy so you could fuck nasty in private. Or maybe he'd just let you take him overboard. You'll swim him back to the ship. Eventually.

COLLAB WITH ANON<3 (NSFW MENTIONED)

PIRATE CHILCHUCK X SELKIE/SIREN READER

Oh my godohmygodohmygodohmygod

I don't even know what to add this is just perfect...

I need to hyper focus on this AU and have dreams about it.

Maybe even make some fanart of Chil hanging upside down... ahhh 😩💖

He would have such a dirty mouth too lol like a true sailor aaaaaaa🥰🥰

[moonsgemini]

seeking arrangements- v

summary: Rafe feels regret in the pit of his stomach and knows he needs to lay it all out in order to get the girl back. His honesty leads to romantic moments, vengeful exes, and pinot on the beach.

warnings: angst, fluff, 18+, kissing, very suggestive language, thomas, toxic families, bad moms, cursing, escort!rafe

wc: 3.9k

an: one more part left!!! I’m sorry but I dislike conflict soooo much so I try not to write too much of it lol. I hope you guys enjoyed <3 I honestly kinda hate it & feel like it's all over the place but I also like it ????

series masterlist - previous part

Rafe was going crazy. For the last week he had been living off of Lola’s attention. He wished he could go back to when he was picking her up at the bar and she was all over him. That moment between them felt so real. Like they weren't doing it to convince anyone of anything. The truth is it was how Lola felt. She wanted it to feel real like that all the time. That's why she thought he also maybe wanted something more.

He was so good at being independent and keeping his feelings out of these things. Rafe didn’t expect this doe eyed girl to completely turn his world upside down. His feelings for her were starting to be all consuming, even in his sleep he was dreaming about her. Rafe just hoped being honest with her would help him earn forgiveness and her trust again.

When he woke up the next morning she was already downstairs having an early coffee with her dad. Rafe played the part of a good boyfriend and went over to kiss her on the head good morning. He felt her stiffen as he did so. Even more confirmation that he had royally screwed up. The tension between them didn't seem palpable, but to Lola the air felt thick.

Even if things seemed fine she didn’t want to risk her dad suspecting anything was wrong so she just gave Rafe a soft smile. Not looking at him for too long or her brain would turn to mush and she’d forget why she was upset. They barely spoke a word to each other while they got ready for family brunch. Lola doing her best to ignore his presence. Tried to ignore the smell of his cologne and the droplets of water on his chest when he walked out of the shower with just a towel around his waist. He was torturing her in every way.

She felt like a complete loser. He had rejected her advances and then had insinuated that she was nothing more than another client. It was clear to her now that she had probably made Rafe so miserable that he was choosing to retire and find someone to settle down with. Lola felt humiliated. The first guy she opens up to since Thomas and he breaks her heart almost just the same.

Lola had thought he felt the same because of how nice he was to her. He also stood up for her and was attentive of her. No one has done that, not without her giving 110% of herself first. She felt carefree around him.

Now they were sat next to each other with all her family around and the bridal party. They had hired someone to set up tables and food in Lola's parents back year that was connected to the beach. Umbrellas also set up to keep the June heat away.

Rafe kept thinking about how perfect she looked in the lavender dress she wore. He wanted to take her away and apologize and confess his feelings for her. She wasn’t hiding her emotions very well this time as she pushed around her last few pieces of waffle around her plate. Barely staying engaged in conversation. It hurt him to know he had caused this.

Rafe had to endure the torture of her getting ready. Her leaned over the sink lips pouting as she applied lipgloss made him want to get on his knees behind her and beg for forgiveness in more than one way. Now he’s having to sit at brunch and see her try to look like everything is okay when he can tell she’s hurting.

“So love birds how was last night?” Tabitha asked raising her eyebrows at them suggestively. She was sitting across from the couple drinking her own mimosa.

The couple looked at each other briefly, “Uh it was good.” Lola smiled trying to put up a front.

“Just good?” Tabitha asked looking over at Rafe. Almost like she knew he had done something.

Before he could say anything Lola rolled her eyes with a weak smile, “Tabi some things stay private.”

“Yeah yeah,” She waved them off as she grabbed the champagne bottle in the middle of the table, “shit it’s empty.”

Lola perked up at the excuse to go away and clear her mind for a second, “I can go get some.” She pushed out her chair walking towards the house.

Rafe quickly stood up, “I’ll help.” Finally having an opportunity to be alone with Lola.

Lola cringed slightly, her back still turned to him as he took long strides to catch up to her. They didn’t speak as they walked into the house and towards the basement where the wine cellar was.

“Lola I have a lot I need to say to you,” Rafe said breaking the silence as they reached the bottom floor.

Lola’s heart began to beat faster. She closed her eyes and sighed turning towards him, “Rafe just go ahead and say it. I understand you don’t like me that way and I was too forward. I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.”

His heart ached as she spoke, “You have never made me uncomfortable. I-I wanted to do something so bad last night it physically hurt me to pull away from you,”

Her brows furrowed in confusion, “Well then why did you? You’re so confusing Rafe. You’ve been nothing but the perfect fake boyfriend and then we have moments where I-I feel like it’s not fake. Like you’re actually being real,” He stepped forward grabbing her hand interrupting her, “Because I am being real. When I saw you sitting there at the bar when we first met I thought to myself that no way is the prettiest girl in this whole room is the one paying me to take her out. Then I got to know you and I was even more baffled at the fact that every person isn’t falling at your feet.”

Her heart swelled at his words, “Rafe I-“

He reached up and grabbed her face gently, “You are the most beautiful extraordinary person I’ve ever met and I’ve only known you for a few weeks. This sounds crazy but I want to spend forever getting to know every part of you. I don’t want to be friends when we leave here, I want to be more.”

She smiled shyly at him. Lola’s face felt hot because no one had ever said anything so nice to her, “I want to be more too. I care for you so much Rafe and I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t let you have me.”

He felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. Hearing those words made him grin like an idiot, “Let me take you on a real first date then, when we get back to city.” He moved his hands rubbing them down her arms to hold her hands again. He brought them up to his lips kissing her knuckles softly.

Her racing pulse not easing with his romantic gestures. She felt like the lead in those romance books she was always reading. Rafe felt like a dream come true, never had she met a man that communicated how he felt and didn’t let her sulk for days before giving a half assed apology.

“Of course Rafe,” She couldn’t fight her grin.

He leaned forward pressing his lips to hers. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since they last kissed but it felt like a life time. The way her soft lips felt against his was a feeling he’ll never get used to. He let go of her hands wrapping his arms around her wait, his palms flat on her back gently pushing her towards him. Lola’s palms slid up his arms to wrap around his neck. One hand sliding up the back of his head gently tugging on his hair. She loved the feeling of him against her. She sighed softly into the kiss before he gently tugged on her bottom lip.

“As much as I’d love to keep going and even finish what you started last night I don’t want anyone to come looking for us and catch me inside of you,” Rafe said kissing her cheek then her nose.

She slapped his chest playfully, “Rafe! Don’t be so vulgar.”

He laughed as she stepped away from him to get the bottles of champagne they came for, “That wasn’t vulgar sweetheart. Vulgar is me saying we could get caught with my dick in your tight wet pu-“

“Rafe! Stop!” She shouted with wide eyes not wanting him to continue, “You’re gonna kill me,” She laughed.

"Also it's not always going to be this easy to get me to stop being upset with you," She continued, "Well you actually do have a lot of making up to do."

"I plan on making it up to you and prove that I'm worth your time. Don't worry sweetheart you'll probably be begging me to stop proving myself," He winked teasingly.

"Okay you're done," She laughed walking away. His words were making her feel flustered so she needed to walk away.

He smiled and grabbed the three bottles from her hands following her up the stairs. Of course he wasn’t going to let her carry a thing.

“Finally geez!” Tabitha shouted as the couple approached, “wow you two look chipper.” A smirk now appearing on her face.

“Why wouldn’t we be? My sister gets married tomorrow,” Lola said trying to deflect.

Penny who sat a seat away from Tabitha exclaimed, “Isn’t Lola just the best!” Clearly the mimosas had gotten to her now.

They sat down in their seats from before Rafe handing out the bottles. He felt giddy as Lola scooted her chair a bit closer to him. Lola felt relaxed for once. The whole time, no matter how convincing Rafe was, in the back of her mind she worried someone would find them out. Then they’d think she was some pathetic loser who lied about having a boyfriend and then paid one to go out with her. But now she didn’t have to worry about that because she knew that Rafe was being genuine.

The two love struck idiots were too busy feeling the butterflies in their stomachs to notice Thomas glaring at them from down the table. He couldn’t stand the sight of them. Mostly because he couldn’t stand seeing Lola happy. He liked when she was miserable because of him because it made him feel good to know he had that affect on her. But here she was with a guy more attractive and kind than him and she was glowing. He hated it.

Thomas hated it so much after the bachelor party and after spotting them kissing across the street he went back to his airbnb and did some major research. Searching Rafe’s name on every platform. He could barely find anything on him. Rafe only had instagram and only three pictures on his profile. One with his sisters, one with his friends, and one of him at the lake on his boat. He found his very successful company and net worth but Rafe tried to live a very private life so there was not much on him.

Until Thomas used one of his instagram pictures to reverse image search. He’d never admit to anyone he did this. That’s when he started stumbling upon pictures of Rafe at different weddings. He somehow ended up down a rabbit hole where he read an article in a magazine from an anonymous man. Talking about how he has a successful company but likes to keep women company because he knows what it feels like to always be the single person at parties.

He thought he was being a little crazy for jumping to conclusions. But after sitting up almost all night thinking about it he took the leap and figured put Rafe was a male escort.

His theory wasn’t confirmed but still he sat glaring at the couple who he couldn’t figure out. Because if he really was an escort he was good at his job, Rafe had them all convinced he was really into Lola.

Penny stood up clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. Harry stood up with her placing his hand on her back. She smiled widely, “We are so happy to have you all here for our special day tomorrow. This amazing week is almost coming to an end and I wish it could go one forever!”

Harry smiled at his fiancée before beginning to speak, “We have to head to the courthouse to do some final things. Please try not to get too drunk before the rehearsal dinner tonight guys.”

“We’ll see you all in a couple hours on the beach!” They waved and everyone shouted their goodbyes as the couple walked away.

Lola was glad to have some time for just her and Rafe before having to deal with more of her family.

She turned to him, “Rehearsal dinner is at seven so we have some time to hang out.”

Rafe placed his hand on her thigh rubbing smooth circles on the exposed skin from her dress, “Sounds perfect, how about we get a bottle of wine and find a private spot on the beach?”

She leaned forward kissing his cheek softly, “Sounds like the best day.”

“Lola honey come try on your bridesmaids dress incase we need to do any last minute altering,” Lola’s mom interrupted standing on the other side of the table.

Lola sighed, “Sure mom. I’ll come get you when I’m done if you want to hang out in my room or something.”

“Take your time babe,” He brushed hair behind her ear, “I’ll be here.”

She grinned widely not being able to fight the heat in her face. Lola followed behind her mom to the house.

Rafe stood up and was making his way to porch to catch up on some work. Everyone had dispersed to whatever they were going to do to keep themselves busy while the couple was out. As he walked up he heard someone jogging behind him to catch up to him.

“So uh Rafe how’d you and Lola meet again?” Thomas asked suddenly, not even bothering to greet him.

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Just want to hear it again how you two love birds met each other.”

Rafe scoffed, “Sure buddy. We met at a bar, and I couldn’t let the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen leave without trying to talk to her.”

Once they reached the top of the deck Rafe stopped and turned facing the guy he really didn’t like. For someone who cheated on their ex he seemed very interested in her still.

Thomas nodded his head, “Right right, so you guys didn’t meet online or anything?”

“No, what’s up with the questions?” Rafe crossed his arms over his chest, looking as broad as ever.

He smirked shrugging and mimicking Rafe’s position, “Just want to make sure Lola has found herself a good guy. Don’t want her to be paying for someone’s company or anything like that.”

Rafe’s face never changed even though on the inside he panicked for a second. But then he realized he could use Thomas’ stupidity to his advantage.

He laughed, “I really don’t think she needs you looking out for her.”

“I’m just say desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Rafe took a step closer to him not wanting to hear his bullshit anymore, “Look Thomas, I know what happened between you two so I really don’t like you. I also don’t like you assuming you think you know what’s best for my girlfriend. I also don’t like the things you’re insinuating about her. So I think it’d be best if you fucked off because if I remember correctly your boss and I are golf partners.” Yeah Rafe did a bit of his own research too before he even came here.

It turned out that Rafe’s golf partner was Thomas’ boss. He was a big guy in finance who was worth millions and he liked Rafe. He saw him as like a son he never had, so one word from him and Thomas’ job was out the window.

He scoffed, “You’re bluffing.”

“Should I call Martin right now? Or should I just wait until a couple weeks from now when I see him at his wife’s birthday party," He smirked, "see after you blatantly insulted my girl on the boat I did some research and found out where you work."

“Whatever dude, treat her like shit. I don’t give a fuck.” Thomas practically stomped away like a toddler. Rafe grinned to himself and sat down on the sofa on the deck starting to look through his emails.

-

Lola loved clothes and all that girly stuff, it made her feel pretty and delicate. But having to try a dress on in front of her mom made her want to crawl out of her skin. Her eyes picked up every one of her flaws and it made her feel horrible. Except this time was different.

“You look amazing darling!” Her mom swooned as she watched Lola spin slowly in the light blue satin gown.

“Thanks mom, can I change now?” She asked brushing her hands over her stomach to smooth out the dress.

“Sure. Ugh you’re so grown up,” Her eyes began to water and Lola would have felt like it was sincere if her mom hadn’t messed up her life so much.

Lola went back into her parents bathroom to change. Her mom sat at the end of her bed facing the bathroom door.

“Honey you do know that I’m sorry for everything.”

Lola sighed, “Yeah mom.”

“Because you don’t come and visit me anymore and-and you’ve changed so much-“

Lola slipped the straps of her summer dress back on her shoulder, “That’s why you’re sorry? because I don’t visit you anymore.”

“Well yes-“

Lola opened the door abruptly she cross her arms over her chest, “You made out with my boyfriend and I was stupid and forgave him only to find out he had been cheating on me half of the relationship. Of course I’m going to change mom. The one person in this world who is never supposed to betray you hurt me more than ever. And I’m talking about you not him.”

Her mom frowned, “If I could go back I would change everything.”

Lola shook her head, “Mom you just would try not to get caught this time. I need more time.”

Her mom sighed, “How much more time? You’ve clearly moved on so what more can there be?”

“Just because I’ve found someone who actually cares about me doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten everything that got me there. That was the worst heart ache of my life and-and you expect me to be over it now?”

Her mom didn’t say anything, just as Lola expected. She scoffed and walked back downstairs not wanting to hear more excuses or feel like it’s her fault her relationship with her mom is ruined.

When she walked out onto the deck in the distance she could hear her family and the bridal parties, to her left Rafe was sat typing away on his phone. She smiled to herself remembering all his words from earlier. She walked over to him and plopped down next to him. He turned towards her and smiled.

“How was the fitting?” He locked his phone and set it aside wanting to give her his full attention.

Lola sighed tilting her head back looking up at the sky, “It was fine, my mom just being herself like always.”

“I think I know something that can help take your mind off things,” He places his hand on her giving it a gentle squeeze. He also chose not to tell her about Thomas because he didn’t want her to worry. Rafe would make sure she never had anything to worry about.

Her mood instantly perked up, “Like what?”

“Like a bottle of pinot and a blanket right over there,” He pointed at a spot on the beach in the distance, “Just me and you.”

“Sounds perfect,” Lola grinned and Rafe leaned forward kissing her cheek.

-

“When we get back I’m taking you out,” He turned his head on her lap to look at her, “Treating you like a princess.”

Lola brushed her hands through his hair gently, “I can’t believe you even like me.”

Rafe scoffed offended that she had insulted herself, “Babe I can’t believe you like me. You’re a dream come true how can I not like you. The sweetest prettiest girl.”

She leaned back on her elbows tilting her chin up to the sky feeling the sun on her chest but she didn’t need it to feel hot. Rafe was so good at making her feel warm all over with just his words. She felt like she was on cloud 9.

“How were you single?”

He shrugged, “I liked it that way, I didn’t want any complications. Then I met you and being around you felt so easy.”

“You don’t need to keep buttering me up. I’m already yours,” Lola teased. Her heart couldn’t take his honesty.

He sat up sitting across from her. The sun had began to set only orange and pink hues painting the sky. They had to head back to change for the rehearsal dinner soon but they were trying to savor every moment before then.

“Lola you deserve to constantly be showered in compliments,” He kissed her knee that was now bent towards the sky, “Now lets go finish what we started and make shit head jealous.”

“You’re gonna make me have a permanent smile on my face if you keep saying the right stuff Cameron,” Lola laughed as they got up.

They packed up their things and headed back to the house. Rafe’s arm wrapped around her shoulders as they talked about the pets they had growing up.

-

The night was filled with catching up with her parents friends and a few of Lola’s old college friends. Rafe stuck by her side through it all. He knew when she would start to get uncomfortable and would find a way to excuse themselves. People would be impressed by Rafe’s success, some even knowing his company already.

He never really had this problem with clients in his past. He didn’t realize just how well known and successful her parents were until now. It solidified his opinion that Lola was a lot different than her family.

Penny was thriving on the attention from everyone. Flashing her ring at any moment possible. Lola liked to keep to herself, finding any excuse to be away from any conversation. She never felt like she fit in with these people.

“At least tomorrow’s our last day here,” Lola said sipping her drink. They were leaning against the bar.

Rafe nodded his head, “I honestly can’t wait to get back.”

She turned to him with a smirk, “So they really are that bad huh?”

He shook his head, “They’re not that bad but sometimes this place reminds me too much of home and there’s a reason why I live in the city.”

“Right there with you,” She paused for a second, “I know you don’t talk too much about it but whenever you’re ready to tell me more about your family I’ll be ready to listen.”

He gave her a lopsided smile, “I know baby.”

She brought her drink up to him, "To one more day."

He raised his glass tapping it against her cheering, "To one more day."

-

tagged: @rosal1nd , @magicwithaknife , @f4ll-for-you , @hotch-meeeeeuppppp , @loveu-always , @weareatthebadlands , @camelliaflow3r , @abbybarnesstuff , @tpwk-mia

(if you’d like to be removed or added leave an ask <3)

(for some reason I couldn’t find peoples @‘s but I left them anyways so if you’ve changed your user or something let me know!!)

[lookingfts]

One of my favorite stories of yours is a place to rest, amongst a multitude of yours that are really just fantastic reads.

How are those two doing today?

Thank you! I can’t believe I wrote that fic almost two years ago. Here’s a little glimpse into them now.

--

She always knew when Anthony had something on his mind. When he was tangled up in an issue at work, or one of his siblings was involved in drama (constantly), or his mum was going through a rough patch. That little dimple would pop in his forehead, his brows furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Everything okay?” Kate asked, running her hands through his thick hair. Anthony looked up, pressing his laptop closed, and flashed that warm smile that seemed exclusive to her.

Stretching out his hands, he tugged Kate into his lap, and she went willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just thinking.” Drawing little circles on her hip, Anthony took a breath. “I’m glad you’re here, actually. There’s something I need to run by you.”

“Okay.” Even before they’d gotten married and officially merged their lives together, Anthony had sought her opinion on personal and business matters alike. He trusted her to tell him the truth, and even when they disagreed – sometimes passionately – they always managed to find a way forward.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Anthony said, deliberately as though he was searching for the right words. “And I want to buy Journey’s End from your mum when she’s ready to retire.”

The words soaked in slowly, and Kate blinked at him. “What?”

“I talked to Mary about it last weekend. She was thrilled. But I want you to be on board too.” His hand tightened on her hip, his expression so earnest that her heart skipped a beat. “I want it to stay in your family. Our family. Besides, it has sentimental value to me, too. It’s where I fell in love with my wife, you know.”

Kate laughed thickly, remembering the sad girl who hid behind her responsibilities to avoid living. Until a smug, rude viscount happened upon her corner of the world and turned everything upside down.

She didn’t even feel like the same person anymore. Maybe no one had it all, but Kate thought she was pretty close. A challenging but fulfilling career, a strong marriage, a solid relationship with her family. And even more incredible things on the way.

“We’ll hire people we trust to run it,” Anthony said quickly, mistaking her silence for hesitation. “We can be involved as much or as little as you want. Maybe one day our kids will want to be involved.” His hand rested on her stomach, only the smallest curve visible. None of their friends knew yet, and she could tell it was killing Anthony not to shout it from the rooftops. “It wasn’t your dream to run it. And I’m selfishly glad about that. But we could still keep your father’s legacy alive.”

Tears welled in her eyes, beading on her lashes. Kate had never faced a harder decision than walking away from the thing her father had worked so hard for. Accepting that following in his footsteps wasn’t the only way to honor his memory, especially if it was holding her back from what she was really meant to do.

But Anthony was offering her the chance to do both. To live her life in London, with him, while ensuring that her father’s dream wouldn’t fall into the hands of someone else. Someone who would never understand what it meant, would never see all the sweat and tears and love that lived within its walls.

There weren’t many men who would have known how important her father’s legacy was, but Anthony did. He knew better than anyone how badly Kate wanted to do right by him, even after he was gone. Especially after he was gone, and could only live on through her and Mary and Edwina. And, in six months or so, through their child.

“Are you sure?” she asked, tears spilling onto her cheeks now, and Anthony’s face softened as he brushed them away.

“Of course. I’ve already run the numbers on it. Plus, Mary could retire when she wants and not have to feel guilty. She’ll have the money to live off and know that it won’t just get torn down and turned into ugly flats.”

Taking her hand in both of his, Kate pressed a kiss to his knuckles, feeling almost incapable of containing the affection swelling inside her. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re happy?”

“So happy.”

“Good.” He kissed her, soft and tender, and she knew he felt the same. “I’m dying for chai, want some?”

She chuckled, brushing her nose against his. “Definitely.”

[wireman-au]

SWAP COMPLETE.

Your name is Bdubs. You are currently sitting on a bench on the street in your coworker's neighborhood. About a block down the road, there's a bar you've personally decided must at least be a little evil. On either side of you, your coworkers are mother henning you. It's unnecessary. They both know you've done this song and dance before.

They both hate you've done this song and dance before.

Whatever. Two more years and you're done with your contractual obligations, and you'll have enough hazard pay that you and Etho and Cleo can all go retire to like, you don't know, a town outside a ski resort in Colorado or something. Live where all them rich, fancy celebrities live. Or, well, maybe not that, but retire to the country and you can finally actually use that architecture degree you sold your soul for. Maybe.

Anyway, none of that matters that much, given that, at the moment, you're still reeling from both having briefly been someone else (what?) and also no longer having a migraine (this should be fine but it's weirder than you thought it would be).

"I'm going to do it. I'm going to kill a general of the United States Army," mutters Cleo. "I'm actually going to do it."

"Chill out!" you shout, irritated.

"You chill out! I just watched you nearly collapse for no reason but the thing they put in your neck!"

"Yeah, well, it's supposed to help me be better, isn't it? Wouldn't'a done it if there weren't upsides."

"Oh, I can name a few reasons they would--"

"Wouldn't'a sent me out on a mission if there weren't upsides, or at least, few enough downsides to make it worth it," you clarify. Cleo shuts her mouth and looks away. Yeah. Okay. Okay.

You take stock of everything that's happened since you left base two days ago:

You've been dizzy.

You've been nauseous.

You've been having trouble sleeping--weird, because you could fall asleep on a bed of nails directly in front of stadium lights, but there you are.

You've been getting migraines.

You've been--weird. You don't know how to put it. You've been weird. Cleo knows it. You know it. You're pretty sure in the like, three hours worth of talking you've done to Etho today, he knows it.

There's been something scratching at the back of your head, like it's trying to get in.

It's stopped. You don’t think that’s because it’s gone. You suspect it’s because it won.

You have to admit Cleo has a point. You aren't going to say anything, though. She's already mad enough she might commit a federal crime and get you both disappeared for, you aren't sure, threatening the integrity of classified military experiments? Like, you're not sure you own the thing they implanted in you, which is--

Which is--

Focus. It doesn't matter for today. For right now. As long as you stop Cleo from committing a murder, you're probably all good.

"Uhh, guys, you two... okay?" Etho asks.

"Peachy," you say. "Don't even have a headache anymore."

"I hate that they do this to you," Cleo says.

"Yeah, uh, count me in. Towards. The hating things," Etho says awkwardly. God, you love that man. No one else could declare his loyalty so badly. "So I guess you're allergic to alcohol now or something?"

"What? No, that can't be it," you say. "I refuse. If I don't get a beer after this I'm suing."

Cleo huffs. "Well, if I have to perform CPR because you try to drink a beer, that's not my fault."

"Oh, screw you."

A shudder runs through your skull. It rings like a bell. You stick out your tongue and don't say anything yet; you'll put it down in the stupid diary later.

[CONNECTION GRANTED.]

Besides, the sooner you get your current job done, the sooner you can go home and ignore all of this.

[dead--pegasus]

Steddie Fic Recs: Recently Read Edition

I've been reading a metric ton of Steddie fics for the last year, and I have this habit of keeping track of every single fic I've read and am going to try and turn those recs out into the universe starting with some recently read fics in no particular order:

oh, happy dagger on sunshine bones by Inallthingsgoodorbad (Mature, Complete, 115k)

"He washes his wounds off, sparingly, with water this time. He figures it’s probably time to do so. Maybe he’ll be okay.

He falls asleep in the bathtub with a chair wedged against the bathroom door to keep it from opening.

He dreams he’s hanging on in the back of the RV they stole, and Steve Harrington is yelling at him.

“Hang on!” he’s saying, “Hang on!”" —————————— Eddie Munson is stuck in the Upside Down. Barely alive. Steve Harrington is trying to sleep and failing at it, miserably. What a strange thing it is, to save the world alongside friends and come away from it with nightmares and loneliness.

(As a note: I really really loved this one when I read it)

Swing and a Miss by deadonarrival (Explicit, Complete, 35k)

“Hey so … I have some mixed news,” Steve says. “Uh oh,” Eddie says, “are they changing your position, are you gonna be a — like a third base catcher man?” Steve laughs and shakes his head, “no, nothing that bad - I found out more about the whole like, bringing a person along thing.” “Oh cool,” Eddie says, sliding down on the couch next to him, “do I get like a fancy VIP pass?” “You do,” Steve says, “there’s just one catch.” “Okay?” Eddie asks, tilting his head and reaching for the tv remote. “Apparently they usually reserve the box for the wives and girlfriends … so either you’re gonna have to be my boyfriend or you’re going to have to sit in the stands with the fans.” Eddie makes a noise that must register to Steve as alarmed or upset because he rushes to finish. “It’s not that bad, you just need to like, pretend to be my boyfriend so you can sit with the other WAGs and like, then you can be in the box and have all you can drink alcohol and snacks.” “Did you agree to this!?” Eddie asks. “If I say yes, how mad are you going to be?” Steve asks.

(I loved seeing all the wags in this one and I'm a sucker for a fake dating premise)

rest below the cut for space saving

the chauffeur by brattyspice (Mature, Complete, 15k)

"He had intended on a normal drive, really, just cruising at the speed limit to clear his head. But upon passing the last house on the stretch for miles, the long, empty road looks suggestive. Maybe even a little seductive. A bad itch builds from the base of his spine. Swallowing nothing, he presses the gas pedal slowly, eyes continuously flicking down to the speedometer as it climbs exponentially. The drone of the engine changes with it, getting louder, pitch keening, synchronizing with the blood that churns and rushes in and out through his heart, veins, brain.

The needle hovers just over 100mph for approximately one minute and fourteen seconds." - Steve's attempts to return to normal aren't cutting it. When a casual drive turns into something more risky, he learns that a little rush of adrenaline can help. He learns that a little too well.

Around the same time, Eddie starts having car troubles.

The Beginning And End Of Everything by Kwills91 (Explicit, Complete, 80k)

Steve Harrington has lost everything. Head injuries forcing him to retire from the sport he loves. And he's not sure how to move on.

Until he meets disgraced figure skater, Eddie Munson - who is mounting a comeback.

Eddie and Steve learn that they have more in common than they first think and Steve thinks he's found a new best friend.

But things get confusing when he realises he might want more than friendship.

here i have found some peace of mind by GerryStAmour (Explicit, Complete, 60k)

Steve Harrington works at a hotel in Chicago, responsible for making and managing reservations for groups of all kinds: corporate, tours, entertainment, you name it. When some famous metal band signs a contract for rooms three months ahead of their concert date, Steve is swept into a flirtatious back-and-forth with someone he as been led to believe is the tour manager, Chris Cunningham, and quickly finds himself falling for the man...

Eddie Munson is a rockstar still riding the high of Corroded Coffin finally, finally making it big, but with the fame he finds himself almost lonelier than he was before. So when he answers his tour manager's phone and a nice guy with a cute voice starts calling him "Chris," Eddie plays along and maybe gets a bit carried away...

Read, enjoy, comment & kudo, yell at me about the fics if you want bc I always crave fandom friends ❤️

[sunset100]

TRAINING CAMP

part 1

Waking up in a dormitory full of strangers with no memory of how I got here was enough to demoralize a man, even a retired hardcase like myself.

            “I don’t worry about those sorts of things anymore,” Is what I told the young killer, so he’d leave me alone. He’d been trying out petty insults and dominance games on me for a while now. His idea of friendly banter. Baker was his last name. His first name might have been John. When he wasn’t insulting me, he was bugging me about killing all the young kids in the room. Beating them up, sometimes. Raping the pretty girls. I classified him as trouble, and kept an eye on him, but I doubted whether he had ever killed anyone.

            But you never know. Especially about weirdoes like him who enjoyed thinking about killing people. I’ve killed people in war, but I never enjoyed it. I did enjoy being the one who lived, but that was about it.

            I saw him as half a lunatic. Jumpy and twitchy, but a hard and cruel gleam in his eyes that said, if it came to it, he would go for me.

            “You say that ‘cause you’re old , eh? Can’t get it up anymore, okay old man?” He said this in a loud voice. Wanted everyone to hear him belittle the old man. Was a time when I’d have killed an Ordinary like him. Being so old, I’d grown cold and uncaring about such stuff. I ignored him. I looked around the room. Scared and confused faces on the people who’d awakened and sat up on their bunks. Way too many children and teens. A few young adults. Mostly female. A giant male stood out amongst them all. He was up and pacing about the huge room. The giant’s intense blue eyes met mine for a second and I felt his hard anger and determination. I looked away first as I didn’t want to challenge him. A dangerous man.

            The woman with the two red upside-down triangles tattooed underneath her eyes, one on the left, one on the right, was looking at me. My upside-down blue tattoos on my face were what had caught her attention, I guessed. Her eyes were as hard and deep as any I’d known. Maybe like mine back when I was her age. She was younger than I. Raised both my hands and used the sign language common between our two unreconciled peoples. No intention to harm was my message. Her kind and mine had been at peace for nearly a generation and I wasn’t about to break it. Especially with her. She smiled signed like wise. She kept looking at me, but not so harshly as before. Well. I’d have to talk with her and soon.

            Johnny had, in meantime, stopped going on about my manhood. Must’ve noticed that nobody was paying him any mind. More and more people were coming ‘round. Waking up. Realized they weren’t where they’d gone to sleep in. Like me, only they got scared and upset and demoralized right quick and showed it. Been through too many battles involving sorcery not to recognize it when I see it. And I’d been lucky to reach the age I had, what with all the wars I’d fought in. Maybe this was when my luck ran out. Like anybody, the thought of death scared me, but I’d long practice in putting that fear aside and focusing on the trouble right in front of me.

            “Yeah, all that. Been trying to suss out how I got here. How we all got here.” Hoped that talking to Johnny in a serious way, including him in my suspicions would calm him down.

            “You fucked over about this shit we’re in, old man? Hey, let me tell you, End Times. Demons and Gods and monster are all walking world, you get me, eh?” He laughed and then went on: “Hey man, maybe we’re dead. For real or real soon.”

            “Could I be dreaming?” I asked Johnny.

            “You? Fuck that, man. What if I’m dreaming?”

            Johnny’s point gave me pause.

            “Maybe I am just a figment of your imagination.”

            “Fuck off, old man.” Johnny said with a steely edge of finality. Well, I didn’t really feel like fighting him. I shut up and thought about what to do about the woman who could kill me, if she so chose. The true horror of being old started to sink in to me at that moment. Not to mention being kidnapped and if not helpless, then damned near it.

[burnwater13]

Moff Gideon standing in front of a variety of Storm Troopers and other Imperial remnants on Nevarro. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 1, Episode 8, Redemption. Calendar by DateWorks.

Grogu missed his friend Ian. Ian was such a voice of reason. A noble youngling who would have made a fine Jedi Knight one day if the Emperor hadn’t existed. And at times like this, when a remnant of the Empire was standing right in front of them blabbing away, Grogu missed Ian’s wisdom even more. 

They had been watching a stream of Chancellor Palpatine and Ian had turned to Grogu and asked him a simple question. 

“How do you know when the Chancellor is lying to you?”

Grogu shrugged. He was pretty sure it required the Force to know that and you’d have to be in pretty close proximity to the person lying. 

“His lips are moving. That guy gives me the creeps and I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw a gundark.”

Grogu had shook his head and laughed and they decided to shut the stream off and go to the cafeteria to get a snack. They both forgot about the Chancellor and whatever he was lying about because snacks and lessons were a much bigger part of their current reality.

Now, here he was, almost thirty years later and Ian’s words came rushing back to him. Only this time they applied to Moff Gideon and fortunately he wasn’t alone in not trusting the wannabe Warlord. The Mandalorian didn’t buy it for a moment and even Greef Karga realized that the chance of Moff Gideon suddenly being an honorable person were slim to none. 

The question Grogu really had was, who did stuff like that actually work on? Was Gideon a Sith? Maybe he thought that if he said stuff like that, he could use the Force to confuse the weak minded and convince them that he wasn’t just a better looking version of Chancellor Palpatine or a more able bodied version of Darth Vader? That was possible, right?

Grogu supposed that there must be some people who still bought the whole ball of nonsense. Particularly out there, in the Outer Rim worlds where the New Republic wasn't much of a force for law and order. A place like Sorgan, where they couldn’t even protect themselves from Klatooinian pirates without the help of a Mandalorian and a former Rebel. How could they effectively stop Moff Gideon? They’d have to stand there politely and listen to the nonsense and then hope he just went away. Same with Arvala-7, and obviously the same on Nevarro. 

Grogu did wonder about Tatooine. Granted that planet was way the heck on the other side of the Outer Rim, but somehow they seemed to be a little more prepared to deal with Imps, real or pretend. He remembered seeing all those Storm Trooper helmets on those spikes. It was pretty clear that Tatooine was just too much trouble, with no upside. There were no rare mineral deposits. No beskar ore. No oceans filled with bacta secreting plants or critters. If you wanted to negotiate with people, you had to have something they care about and the good people of Tatooine seemed to keep stuff like that in their pocket, reducing anyone’s influence over them. 

It was a pity that the people on Nevarro weren’t that way. But again, reality demanded that they all face the problem in front of them and not the wishes and dreams they all had the day, or week, or month before. It just wouldn't help them. 

So, what was before them? A group of ex-Imperial Storm Troopers who couldn’t handle a retired Rebel, a Mandalorian bounty hunter, a bureaucrat, and a nurse droid. Okay, IG-11 was a bit more special than that. It was still trained to ‘protect’ and that had covered a lot of ground, but clearly these troopers didn’t understand their operational reality. They didn’t have good ground intelligence. They thought that the Mandalorian was a sucker. That was a mistake. 

That also meant that guy yapping at them needed time. He didn’t have his work sorted out. Which was definitely to their advantage. They could size up the situation and determine which path was best to take without the drama of being fired at constantly. Based on the training he’d attended when he was a youngling, their best possible path was a protected a retreat. That should be possible. The Mandalorians who were part of the covert had managed to slide in and out of Nevarro City without any of those bounty hunters knowing they were there at all. 

Now IG-11 just had to get them to the Client’s office in time to implement the plan. They needed to create a maximum amount of chaos so quickly that the troopers had no idea what to do and where to shoot. Of course that also meant that everyone else had to be patient. IG-11 was programmed for problems like this. Grogu had seen that based on how he’d handled the Imps who were too afraid to bring him to Moff Gideon directly. The worst possible thing would be for the Mandalorian or Cara to come running outside and try to help them. Someone could get hurt and Grogu was not about to put up with that after what happened to Kuiil. 

This had to be the way. And if it wasn’t, he’d just have to do the best he could with the Force. After all, it was always with him and that was the truth.

[dramamelon]

For Polyship Week 2023! 💖

Completing the Connection

Day 1: Road Trip Rating: E (overall, but not until day 5) Chararcters: Drift, Ratchet, Rodimus, Thunderclash Pairing: thunderdratchrod XD Fandom: Transformers (IDW1) Tags: Minimal Editing, Romantic Fluff, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Polyamory, Flirting Fic Summary: As a still newly-minted foursome, they've come closer to one another, but one connection hasn't quite fully cemented itself just yet. A surprise retirement announcement from Thunderclash has Rodimus suggesting one last tour on the Exitus for all of them. Really, it's a chance to for a bit of vacation time with his partners on Cybertron's shanix. And maybe it might spur on a little more action between Thunderclash and Drift.

AO3 link in reblog! Sequel to Closest of Friends. :)

When Thunderclash casually mentioned over dinner at the country house that was now home to all of them that he felt it was time to retire, let someone else explore the deep reaches of the galaxy, even Rodimus met the proclamation with silence. Only for a short moment, though. Before Drift or Ratchet could summon words, Rodimus jumped on Thunderclash, battering him with questions about why and when and how…. He ended with a simple suggestion: "How about a last tour? We'll bring everyone," he nodded to include Drift and Ratchet, "and make a thing of it. Maybe invite a few extra friends along, too?"

"Like a reunion?" Ratchet asked from across the table where he sat beside Drift.

"A reunion," Drift repeated, swirling his fingertip around the rim of his glass. "That's a lot of people, Roddy. Especially considering the ship's already got a full crew."

"Okay, maybe not everyone," Rodimus revised, setting his elbows on the edge of the table and reaching over to snag a calcite stick from Drift's plate. "Maybe… just us. How long has it been since you two sailed the stars, huh?"

"It sounds like a fine idea," Thunderclash added, setting a hand on Rodimus' shoulder and giving Ratchet and Drift a cajoling look. "My cabin has plenty of room. Captain's quarters are immense on this particular class of ship. And, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd certainly enjoy the extra company."

And that had been that. The announcement turned into a planning, turned into the journey itself, reaching a point where the walls of the ship were driving even Ratchet spare. As luck would have it, the last excursion of Thunderclash's career found them a new and exciting planet to explore, the natives very welcoming toward a visit from robotic aliens. Rodimus had been shocked to find they'd never heard of Cybertron or Cybertronians. He stood by, nodding, as Thunderclash impressed upon the crew they were emissaries and should put forth the effort to not create the havoc they as a people were so very good at.

So it went that the Exitus settled into orbit and all the paperwork was completed by the competent hand of Thunderclash's Second. A long needed and well-deserved shore leave awaited the crew on the organic world of tall mountains, shimmering seas, and so much more below. Most particularly, it awaited Rodimus and his three favorite people.

"C'mon, guys!" Rodimus shouted across the shuttle bay, leaning out the open hatch of the Rodpod to catch their attention. "Time's wasting!"

The collection of looks sent his direction ranged from annoyed (Ratchet) to indulgent (Thunderclash). While the first made him laugh and the second sent happy bubbles through his fuel tank, it was the third expression that pushed him onto further obnoxiousness. Unfortunately, Ratchet noticed this and gave Drift a quick knock upside the helm. "Get that damn grin off your face," he grouched before reaching down for two of the bags they'd packed for the trip. "You're fragging encouraging him and he's already insufferable enough as it is."

Rodimus didn't miss the way the corners of his mouth quirked upward, though. Neither did Drift, judging from his bark of laughter as he rubbed at the side of his helm. "You heard him, Ratty," Drift said with a smirk on his face, snagging some luggage from Ratchet's hand. "Time's wasting."

"Shut up, kid," Ratchet muttered. There was no denying the humor in those three words.

As the two straightened, Rodimus watched Thunderclash make his way between them, slinging an arm over each set of shoulders. "Now let's not be like this, everyone," he said in that most genial fashion of his. It didn't go unnoticed that Ratchet leaned deeper into the embrace than Drift did, though this was not unexpected—theirs was the newest connection in the foursome. Rodimus still smiled to see it as it had been a long time coming. With a small nudge to both, Thunderclash urged them toward the Rodpod. "Get on that absurd little ship already. We've got a well-deserved break just waiting for us to get there and you're arguing instead."

"You shut it, too, Thunders," Ratchet said, throwing an elbow at Thunderclash's side, the casual air of longtime friendship and deeper love soft on his face.

Rodimus stepped back and allowed them through the open with the grand sweep of one arm in a welcoming gesture. He fluttered his spoiler wings with excitement—the trip had been his plan. He couldn't wait to get them down to the surface of this new alien world and show them exactly what he had in mind. They were going to love it. Once they were in and finding places to store luggage, Rodimus popped the button to close the hatch and bounded to the front.

The Rodpod was small by shuttle standards, but there was plenty of room for the four of them. Even taking into consideration the size of Thunderclash. Scooting around the big mech, Rodimus had a moment of shock as he watched Drift move toward the pilot's seat. Rodimus leaned into a short run, sliding into the seat with all the flair he could manage. He hissed through a grin as he banged one spoiler wing in the landing process, more than happy to curl his hands around Drift's trim waist, though, as the gorgeous mech ended up in his lap.

Meeting the surprised look Drift shot at him with a wink, Rodimus offered his most salacious grin. "Hey, babe," he said as his engine purred, rubbing his thumbs over the small of Drift's back. "Seat's taken, but you're welcome to stay right where you are. Might make piloting a little weird, though."

"Are you being a pest again, Rodimus?" The friendly boom of Thunderclash's voice from right behind the pilot's seat had Rodimus lifting his chin to look directly up to find an amused smile turned down on him. "What am I saying? I should only be worried when you're not being a pest."

While Drift laughed at the comment, Rodimus put on the playfully affronted frown, giving Drift's hips a little squeeze. "I'll have you know, my dear Thunders, that I am entirely capable—"

He was silenced as Thunderclash's mouth descended on his and engaged him in a kiss that sent all thought tumbling from his brain module. Drift shifted in his lap, Rodimus' fingers slipping along smooth armor. The hands curled around Rodimus' cheeks, fanning over the edges of his helm, very obviously belonged to the mech on his lap. Rodimus hummed softly as Thunderclash eventually pulled away, optics dim and smiling as Drift urged him to angle his helm for a kiss of his own. Rodimus happily obliged.

"Not that I have anything against kissing," Ratchet interrupted, his tone drier than ever, "but if we don't get off the Exitus before panels start popping, we're never going to get anywhere."

As much as it hurt him to break off the liplock with Drift, Rodimus sighed as he moved his mouth away from those sweet lips. "Ratchet," he started, turning the facetious look of solicitous understanding on the medic, "I know you're jealous that these two got me first. Just come on over and I'll lay a big one on you, too." He'd have added a beckoning finger or two, as well, were they not still playing across Drift's hips.

When Ratchet snorted and rolled his optics before going back to stowing the last of their luggage, Rodimus laughed and lifted Drift to his pedes. Which, by pure happenstance, put him directly in front of Thunderclash. Rodimus was nothing if not encouraging when it came to the two of them exploring whatever might blossom between them. And he really just liked the way both flushed like a couple of newsparks with their first crush. His grin widened and he turned to the control panel, flicking the switches in preparation for takeoff.

It was Ratchet that ended up in the navigator's seat beside him. A glance proved him just as pleased with the lingering rise of energon pink in the cheeks of Drift and Thunderclash, approval of the way they hadn't yet put any distance between themselves.

"All right, it's time for all passengers to take their seats," Rodimus announced, grabbing hold of the flight controls. "We're about to get this show on the road."

[fuzzy-contrarian]

retirement 101: a very basic guide.

This is instructions without explanations to keep it short.  Think of this as a recipe; if you are an expert cook you don't need a recipe, if you are a good cook you can improvise around a recipe.  if you are a novice, just follow the recipe to get a decent result.  

1) If your employer offers a 401k/403b match, *take advantage of it*.  Even if you need the money in the short term, this is a good deal - they are giving you extra money even after you pay an early-withdrawal penalty.  Estimated spoon cost: 1  Certainty of advice: 100%.  do this.

2) if you have credit card or other bad debt that you don't pay off every month, pay it down as fast as you can.  if you have multiple debts, pay down the highest interest rate first.  it is okay to have minimal savings if you're paying down a credit card - you can always pull money back out of the card.  Estimated spoon cost: 1   Certainty of advice: 90%.  Definitely pay off your bad debt, but maybe have an emergency fund first if you feel the need.

2a) if you don't have a credit card or if all of your bad debts are paid off, save in checking or easy-access savings until you have 3 months of expenses saved up.  This is your emergency fund and your monthly expense fund.  Estimated spoon cost: 0  Certainty of advice: 100%.  do this.

3) if you have at least $3000 more than 3 months of savings, open an account at Vanguard (https://personal1.vanguard.com/mmx-move-money/funding-method).  Pick Roth IRA for your first account type, and put $3000 - $6500 in it to start, as your available cash allows.  This money will be mostly unavailable until you retire.  The benefit is that you don't get taxed on money you get from the investments. You can put another $6500 in it every year.  You'll need to select some investments.   See below for instructions on that.  Estimated spoon cost: 1  Certainty of advice: 90%.  There are *some* other retirement companies that don't suck, you might want to use them (Fidelity and Charles Schwab are not terrible, for example)

3a) if you have pre-existing 401ks from prior employers or whatever, roll them into Vanguard IRA.  If they are Traditional (not Roth) 401ks you will need to open a Traditional IRA at Vanguard to roll into.  This process will almost certainly require calling the 401k custodian repeatedly, and having them send the money to either you or Vanguard.  Estimated spoon cost: 8  Certainty of advice: 50%.  Leaving the money where it is costs ongoing spoons of remembering and managing, and employer 401ks are often suboptimal in terms of fees and investment choices.  But if it's a decent custodian and management is nbd, leaving it is okay too.

4) If you have more available money than that, open a Brokerage account at vanguard.  This is an *uninsured* and *unsheltered* account - you will be taxed on it and there is the potential for it to be lost.  You'll need to select some investments.  See below for instructions on that.  Certainty of advice: 90%.  It is possible to lose money this way, but the upside outweighs the downside.

Selecting investments:

$3000 - $6000: just leave it in the money market default account.  Estimated spoon cost: 0

$6000 - $12000: put $5000 in VTSAX and select VTSAX for future contributions. Estimated spoon cost: 1

More: put around 80% in VTSAX and around 20% in VBTLX and select that for future contributions.  Estimated spoon cost: 1

Certainty of advice: 70%.  These are decent choices but may not match your appetite for risk and/or retirement horizon.  

5) continuing work: contribute up to $6500/year into your IRA.  contribute as much as you can afford to lock up into your company 401k, up to $22500/year.  If your bank account grows much past 3 months while doing those things, move some into your brokerage account.