#so i realize there’s probably a ton going down in the tags that i don’t see

[starbuck]

usually I mind my own business, but occasionally I see some new fan posting meta-adjacent thoughts and decide to add my two cents, and it ALWAYS feels like this

[solarmorrigan]

Nothing Could Be More Important

For the @steddie-spooktober day 27 prompt: Scary Movies Rated: T | Words: 1812 | CW: some internalized ableism | Tags: established relationship, Steve Harrington has chronic pain, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, Eddie Munson takes care of Steve Harrington, hurt/comfort Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

This is shit.

This is utter shit.

Yes, fine, Steve gets that you can’t put your body through as much shit as he’s done without some kind of consequences. You can’t rack up that many injuries without later having to deal with things like migraines or, apparently, chronic pain.

And he gets that the weather tends to negatively affect him. He gets that the temperature oscillating between warm and cold like it often does in the fall is probably going to trigger an episode (something about shifts in atmospheric pressure; Dustin had explained it once, but he’d used a lot of jargon and, to be honest, Steve hadn’t retained most of it).

He gets all of that.

But today? Today of all days, when Eddie has planned something for them, when he needs Steve to be up and about and able-bodied?

Fucking bullshit.

Turning a groan into his pillow, Steve tries to stretch out, tries to work some of the tension out of his aching body, but it’s no use; his muscles pull and his joints creak in protest, and Steve deflates against the mattress with a sigh. His head is swimming, and his limbs are heavy, and the thought of having to get up already makes him want to cry out of sheer exhaustion, and – today just really isn’t going to happen, is it?

It's about the time this realization hits that Eddie chooses appear in the bedroom doorway. He’s already dressed and looking far more awake than he usually does in the mornings, and Steve wonders how late he’s slept in.

“Hey, there you are.” Eddie grins, crossing the room towards the bed. “Thought I was going to have to wake you up so we didn’t get a late start.”

Steve’s stomach sinks even further in the face of Eddie’s excitement, and something of his own dismay must show in his expression, because now Eddie is frowning and settling himself on the edge of the mattress.

“Everything okay?” he asks, reaching out and running a hand down the length of Steve’s back.

And Steve can’t help it – everything hurts, his skin hurts, and he lets out a noise of pure discomfort, flinching under Eddie’s touch.

Eddie snatches his hand back as if he’s been burned. “Steve?”

Guilt creeps up Steve’s throat, doing as much to twist his nerves as the pain itself, and he reaches out to take Eddie’s hand, threading their fingers together. His wrists and knuckles twinge, but it’s manageable.

“I don’t… think I’m going to be able to do today,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Disappointment drops immediately onto Eddie, pulling his face into frown and stooping his shoulders, and fuck if that doesn’t hurt, too.

Eddie’s been planning today since the beginning of October. They’d meant to start out in the early afternoon and make a circuit, hitting all the haunted houses, corn mazes, hayrides, and whatever else they could find in the area, making a whole day of it. This would, unfortunately, involve a ton of driving and even more walking around, two things Steve really doesn’t think he’s up for today.

It’s taken him a long time to get to the point where he can admit that he might not be able to do things, that he just needs to rest, but he hasn’t quite been able to shake the feeling of frustration and guilt that often comes with it.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “Today is a really bad day, I just– I don’t think I can be up that much.”

Eddie bites his lip. “Maybe we could just, like, take a lot of breaks? Or– no,” he backpedals, shaking his head. “Sorry, no, that’s stupid, I’m being stupid.”

“Not stupid,” Steve sighs (though he genuinely doubts the accessibility of most of the haunted attractions they’d been planning to visit, now that he thinks on it). “I’m really sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie shakes his head again, visibly packing away his disappointment. “No apologies, it’s not your fault.” He squeezes Steve’s hand, so gentle that Steve feels like he might crack. “Do you need anything?”

“Maybe some ibuprofen?” Steve asks.

“Consider it done,” Eddie swears, melodramatic and serious as he places his free hand over his heart.

Steve offers him a wan smile and watches him go.

It takes a little more effort than he’d care to admit to get himself upright against the pillows, slow and achy as he’s feeling, and he drifts for a bit until Eddie comes back, announcing himself with the thunk of a water glass on the bedside table.

Eddie’s not only brought ibuprofen and water, but a plate of toast. When Steve inspects it more closely after taking the pills, he sees that Eddie’s spread the slices over with peanut butter—an easy way to get a little protein in when Steve may not be feeling up to eating much—and he feels a little like crying for reasons entirely unrelated to exhaustion.

He swallows back the desire to apologize again; making Eddie spend the day comforting him isn’t going to make things better. Instead, he asks, “Do you think maybe Dustin and the guys would want to go with you?”

“Nah, they’re spending the day working on their costumes,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Oh.” Steve chews thoughtfully on a piece of toast. “Maybe you could go do that, instead? I know you still have work to do on yours, so–”

“Steve, I’m not going to abandon you when you’re feeling like shit,” Eddie cuts in, apparently a little baffled by Steve’s attempts to find him a new activity for the day.

“I’m probably just going to sleep. Not very exciting.” Steve shakes his head. “I just don’t want to completely wreck your day, you know?”

Eddie frowns. “My day isn’t wrecked. Am I a little disappointed we can’t go out like we planned? Sure.” He shrugs. “But I’m not, like, upset with you over it. Shit happens, baby.” Gently, Eddie brushes Steve’s messy bangs back and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Eat your toast, let the meds kick in, take a nap, and don’t worry about it. Hopefully, you’ll feel a little better after that.”

Steve isn’t sure what to say to that, isn’t sure how to express that he wouldn’t blame Eddie for being upset, even though he’s glad he’s not, and so he decides to just do as he’s told. He eats his toast, insists on taking his own plate to the kitchen so he can at least say he’d gotten up that morning, and then finds himself back in bed shortly after that, already dozing off.

When he wakes a few hours later, he can’t quite say he feels better, but he doesn’t feel worse, and sometimes that’s a win in itself. He can hear Eddie puttering around in the kitchen when he gets up to use the bathroom, and when he pokes his head in on the way back to the bedroom, Eddie seems more animated than he had when Steve had laid down again that morning.

“Hey.” Eddie grins when he looks up from their tiny dining table—which appears be strewn with… snacks?—to see Steve in the doorway. “How’re you feeling?”

“Eh.” Steve tilts his head to the side a bit in a sort of shrug. “What’s all this?”

“While you were napping, I had an idea,” Eddie says. “You feel up to moving to the couch?”

“Sure. You gonna tell me why?” Steve asks, craning his neck to try to see around Eddie.

Eddie shoos him out of the doorway and back down the hall. “You’ll see in a minute. Get your shit and get comfy, I’ll meet you out there.”

Uncertain about what he’s meant to be getting comfy for, Steve settles on changing into a fresh set of pajamas (it’s hardly as good as a shower, but it makes him feel a little cleaner, all the same) and bringing out a blanket and extra pillow.

The smell of popcorn hits him the moment he exits the bedroom, and he finds Eddie in the living room, busying himself with something on the coffee table. There is, in fact, a bowl of popcorn, accompanied by a few bags of candy and a stack of movies.

“Tada!” Eddie turns and throws his arms up like a showman when Steve shuffles into the room.

“Movie night?” Steve asks, then glances at the clock. “Uh– movie day?”

“Yeah! I figured if we weren’t going out, we’d have to get our cheap scares some other way, so I ran out and got a few things. Check it out.” Eddie holds up the movie cases for Steve’s inspection.

There’s a whole slew of selections: Fright Night, Dawn of the Dead, The Evil Dead, Psycho, Nightmare on Elm Street – Eddie had gone all out.

“You pick,” Steve insists, turning the cases back at Eddie. “This was your idea, after all.”

Eddie spends a long few moments humming in indecision before popping Psycho into the player (“We should start with a classic”) and then ushers Steve towards the couch.

“Go ahead and stretch out, if you want,” he says, and Steve shoots him a skeptical look.

“Where are you going to sit?”

Eddie pulls a throw pillow from the stack on the couch and tosses it on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. “Boom.”

Steve maintains his skepticism. He isn’t the only one with chronic pain, after all; maybe Eddie’s never announces itself quite as dramatically, but his scars give him trouble sometimes, and his back, if nothing else, won’t thank him for spending an entire afternoon on the floor.

“I’ll be fine for, like, one movie,” Eddie insists. “Lie down already.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve does as he’s told, arranging himself on the couch until he’s about as comfortable as he’s going to get, and waits for Eddie to do the same.

“Your Raisinets, you weirdo,” Eddie says as he passes the box of Steve’s preferred movie-going candy back over his shoulder.

“I don’t have to defend my life choices to a man currently combining popcorn and candy corn,” Steve retorts.

Eddie doesn’t even pause his snack crimes, shaking the bowl of popcorn a little to get the candy corn to mix in. “As a mutual friend would say: try before you deny,” Eddie replies sagely. “Besides, it’s festive.”

“Uh huh,” Steve hums, watching as the opening scene plays out. When Eddie finally settles, leaning back against the couch, Steve lays a hand over his shoulder, stroking a thumb against his chest. “Hey.” He waits for Eddie to turn, then takes a moment to defy the screaming of his muscles and bends to press a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips. “Thank you.”

Eddie’s answering smile is immediate. “Anytime.”

And Steve doesn’t doubt that he means it.

[carlsangel]

TERRIFIED

carl grimes x reader

(carl comforts you during Terminus.)

tags: hurt to comfort, Terminus and mentions of The Claimers.

masterlist here!

During Terminus, you couldn’t remember a time when you felt more terrified than you were in that moment. You traveled long and far, originally you were from Woodbury. You remember being scared when you were told you’d have to move to the Prison, especially after your parents had left with the Governor one day and never returned.

You never got full answers, you heard they were attacked but not about what attacked them. You wondered about it everyday. But even in that moment, you don’t think we’re as scared as you were in the large crate marked with a big “A.” You hoped this place would be your savior, your new home.

On the walk to Terminus, you were nervous and for valid reason but Carl tried to make you feel better. He held your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it, occasionally squeezing when he noticed you breathing a bit deeper. He talked to you about a bunch of different things, a book he’d read, his old dog from before, he even asked you a ton of questions to distract you.

It worked, even though he probably was the one who needed comforting. Especially after your groups’ ordeal with the Claimers.

Right, the Claimers. The only other time you’ve been genuinely terrified.

You arrived to the wire fence surrounding Terminus. Rick asks Carl if he wanted to stick with him and he said no and he’d continue walking away with Michonne. You knew they would talk, he’s been pretty avoidant towards Michonne since that night with the Claimers. You went to walk in the opposite direction when Rick stopped you. “You’re with me.” He tells you, immediately getting to work on a dirt hole. You stood there awkwardly watching him when you realized you’d finally been alone with Rick, meaning you could gather details.

“What happened to my parents?” You inquired, not even minding the fact that it was a very blunt way to ask. It was your right to know. He looked up at you before continuing to shovel out some dirt. “We told you, they were attacked.” This made you roll your eyes. “You never told me what by. I know what kind of a world we live in, I’m not just gonna assume it was walkers.” You retort, Rick stops for a moment before you continue. “It was the Governor, wasn’t it?”

He remains still for a moment, eventually nodding while still looking at the floor. “He shot a lot of his people that day.” He explains, going back to digging the hole. Eventually the hole is big enough to stuff the duffle bag inside and he does so. He stands up and looks at you intently. “Sorry we didn’t tell you. I didn’t realize you’d be a larger part of our lives here.” He gestures to Carl, insinuating he was the reason your around. Which was entirely true.

“I just…don’t like secrets.” Rick nods and looks down at his hands as he wipes them off. “Well as long as you’re family…we won’t be keepin anythin from you.” He puts his hand on your shoulder like he tends to do to Carl. He smiles at you, and you return one as well. He goes back to the ground to cover up the bag and you walk to find Carl and Michonne. You notice they’re having a moment and you smile a little. You’re called back over as it was time to actually enter Terminus.

You enter the large factory building, noticing a woman repeating the same sentence over and over into a microphone(?) . Eventually you reveal yourselves and you’re lined up to be patted down. You’re led through what you thought would be your new home and you and Carl were both offered some food. You held the plate in your hands, looking at it curiously wondering what kind of meat it was, you wanted to assume it was venison.

Before you could ask, Rick had suddenly had a man in a headlock, causing you to drop the plate and arming yourself with the gun in your holster. You looked around and noticed everything that was familiar, the poncho, the bag, the riot gear. It was all a trap and you all fell for it. Surely you’d make it out alive, right? You always did.

Shots were fired and you started running. There were no thoughts going through your head other than escape. You’d recklessly shot at a man standing on a roof, somehow you’d actually hit him. His leg gave out and you could see him fall off the roof before Rick pulled you in the direction where you needed to run.

It felt like they were hunting you like animals. Upon running you’d see what looked like cages filled with human bones and blood all over the floors. You passed tons of crates with people screaming from the inside and you realized that would soon be you if you didn’t keep running. You were then cornered. Forced to drop your weapons, herded into the crate like, once again, like animals.

You were reunited with the people you saw as family. While that gave you a glimpse of hope, you still were still extremely worried. What would they do to you for shooting that man’s leg? You began to overthink when the group simultaneously decided that you would try to escape. You weren’t sure how to help, someone handed you a chunk of wood they’d cut off of the door with the pocket watch chain to shave down into a blade.

You looked over to Carl and he looked fine. How could he be acting so normal? Usually he had a front when in situations like this; he had one during the fall of the prison. What’s so different?

“What?” He noticed your staring. You shake it of and return to shaving down your wood against the ground. “It’s nothing.” You reply, your voice a tad shaky and he goes back to what he’s doing. You were warned that there were men arriving and you all began to prepare to storm through the large crate door. Then the roof opened.

Before you knew it you were huddled to the floor and you were extremely panicked, worried they’d take you first considering you shot one of their people. You felt someone grab you and you tried to resist. “It’s me, it’s me.” The person grabbing you was Carl, he took you to a corner to so you could catch your breath even with the smoke that flooded the room. He rubbed your back despite the fact that he was also coughing.

The room eventually aired out and you’d calmed down. You were now just sitting in the corner, your eyes still watery. Carl was checking up on everyone and you took a head count. They’d taken Bob, Rick, Daryl, and Glenn. Rick. You just talked to him, he just welcomed you to the family. Now he’s probably gone. Tears begin to form in your eyes, and you begin to sob quietly. Carl notices and he returns back to you, crouching down and placing his hands on your knees.

“Hey we’re gonna make it out.” He reached his hand out to your face and he gently wipes away your tears, brushing your hair behind your ear. You lift your hands up to cover your face while you sobbed and his heart begin to shatter into millions of pieces. “Cmon.” He pulled your wrists from your face and pulls your hands to his lips to place kisses on the both of them. “Just breathe okay?” He says softly, continuously kissing your hands to calm you down.

Your breath slows down and you nod. Your sobs had turned into small sniffles and you looked around to see if anyone was watching and they weren’t, thank god. “But y-your dad-” He immediately starts to shake his head. “Don’t worry about him. He’s gonna handle it. I know it.” He squeezes your hand twice and looks at you intently. “You promise?” You ask, your voice still quivering. “You know I can’t.” He responds. You give him a small okay, understanding he could never really promise anything.

“Cmon.” He smiles and stands back up, sticking his hand out to you. As soon as you go to grab his hand, boom.

Maybe you would make it out.

a/n: everyone thank mama carol for saving everyone’s asses! i hope this was okay, it honestly didn’t take me too long to write so i’m happy about that. i tried to incorporate a new sort of storyline for the reader since i feel like i use the same shit every time LMAO okay bye love u

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @evilnight07 @ilikestrawberriesandwomen

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Could you do a Miguel or Hobie x reader where the reader is with a flu and with like a massive headache (I’m actually with a flu right now it’s killing me 😂 ) what would he do to make her feel better.

love!! I’ll do both (: I hope that you feel better soon!

Miguel

He’d be kinda like “damn that’s a skill issue” at first, until he realizes it’s the flu

I imagine him as a germaphobe for some reason… like his room and house are so clean your probably won’t find a bit of dust in both

Anyways, he probably will try to see you as less as he possibly can

He will however also try to help you at the same time, asking you if you needed anything and telling you to NOT go to work, which was rare

As soon as he hears you have a headache, he gives you the best painkillers (obviously he has a shit ton)

And he will definitely make soup for you. I know damn well that man knows how to cook 🤌🏽

Hobie

He’s automatically asking you if you need anything

He stays by you the WHOLE time

“Hobie I’m sick.” You sniffled and tried to push him away when he laid down next to you in bed.

“I don’t care.” He ignored you pushing him and went over to you anyways

He does not gaf about the spider society, so if you’re apart of it, he tells Miguel to fuck off and you’re taking off for a bit

Gives you all the medicine he can find

“Hobie, these are allergy pills.”

“And?”

“And I have the flu.”

Anyways he’s the sweetest, and tries to give you whatever you need

Tag list: @enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorrxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @I-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh

@rayis-psychotic @scaraza @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @1eonk @whosace16 @zebralover @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn @deputy-videogamer

@666kpopfan @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @notbluees @

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3658

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains background themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

3. Cream filled Sponge Cakes (with chemicals)

Bucky

They plan out what they’re going to do when they get to the hospital on the car ride over.

“I think it’s best if you wait outside at first,” Bucky says, glancing away from the road for a second to try and gauge Steve’s reaction to this. He looks neutral. “Just because she’s already pissed,” he adds. “And it’ll probably be overwhelming having one person telling her they’re taking custody, let alone two.”

��Yeah,” Steve agrees. “That makes sense.”

Bucky holds his hand out over the center console, waiting for Steve to take it. He does, and Bucky grips his hand tight. “I’ll get the initial stuff out of the way. I’m sure there’s gonna be a ton of paperwork.”

“What if she refuses?” Steve worries. “She can, right?”

Bucky sighs. “Yeah. I don’t have any legal hold on her. Yet. I’ll just have to try and talk sense into her, get her to see that we’re better than the alternative.”

Steve gives his hand a squeeze back. “You can do it.”

Bucky sighs. “I hope so. I really do.” Inside though, he’s already not so sure.

They get to the hospital about forty-five minutes after Bucky’d hung up from the phone call with the police officer. He spots a cruiser parked outside when they approach the emergency room, and it rankles his nerves to think of Mary being forcibly shoved into the back seat of said car.

He goes to the check in desk with Steve and asks for Officer Santiago. “I got a call about an involuntary hold. My submissive,” he says. 

The woman at the desk does a double take at that, looking up and down Bucky where he stands like she’s just realized he’s a different species. “Oh,” she says. “You're one of those?” 

Bucky ignores it, but he can sense Steve tensing up by his side, indignant on his behalf. “Yes,” he says. “I am.” He’s not going to waste time getting on his spiel about mental illness and stigmatization. They’ve got bigger problems right now. “I’m going to need her records,” he says, injecting authority into his tone. “And any paperwork for transfer of custody. The cops brought her in. Name’s Mary.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to look self-assured while he waits, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if the woman demands a last name.

It takes her several minutes to gather everything up for Bucky. She hands it all over to him and says, “That’s the paperwork for custody. The attending physician should be able to provide you with her medical workup.” She points to a set of double doors. “You go down that hallway and to the left. Bed number four.”

Bucky nods and thanks her, then turns to Steve.

“I know,” Steve says, putting on a brave smile. “I’ll wait here.”

“Baby.” Bucky steps close, pulling him into his arms. Steve’s physically just a little bigger than him, and Bucky has always liked the novelty of that. He kisses him gently and then rests their foreheads together for a moment, letting Steve feel their connection. “I love you,” he says quietly. “You’re the best thing I could ever hope for, you know that?”

Steve’s smile is more natural, now. “Yeah I know it.” He gives Bucky another kiss and stands back. “Hey, what about this?” He knocks on Bucky’s shoulder—the metal one. “She know about that?”

Bucky realizes that he’s not wearing his glove, and tries to remember if he’d had it on at the café. He frowns. “Oh well. I don’t think that’s going to be her main focus, not after I explain everything to her.”

“Yeah.” Steve gives him a light push. “I Love you. Now on and get the hard part over with. I’ll be here when you need me.” 

Bucky nods. He knows he will. He goes back to the check in desk, one last question on his mind. “Is there a food court or something around here?”

Mary

Mary’s taken a break from saying pissy things to the cop who’s guarding her. She’s been so angry, she’s felt like her skin’s boiling. But now she’s starting to get tired, too. She hadn’t slept last night, just stayed up and gabbed on the phone to that crisis counselor. 

She grits her teeth as she fumes about that, feeling betrayed all over again. That bitch had called the cops on her!

“You can tell me anything you want to. I’m here to listen, remember?”

Liar!

“I hope you know I don’t have insurance,” Mary snaps at the officer. He’s sitting in a chair in her little curtained off area. He regards her coolly, saying nothing, and she jerks her head to indicate the emergency room. “And I’m not paying a single red cent for any of this.” So far, they’ve taken her blood, her pulse, an EKG, and sent in nurses, a resident, and several shrinks. They’d tried to put an IV in her but she’d ripped it out as soon as nobody was looking. “I’m suing the hospital,” she adds. “And you. I’m suing the whole police department.”

“Okay,” Santiago says, annoyingly calm.

Mary growls, rattling her hand where it’s cuffed to the bed rail. “This is unconstitutional!”

There’s the sound of a throat clearing, and then the curtain to their area is being pulled aside. Mary’s eyes go wide when she sees who it is. “You?!”

Bucky smiles politely at her. “Me.” He steps into the curtained room, a little snack bag in his hand. He holds it up to show her, and she sees the Hostess logo. It’s a bag of little … sponge cake pastries. “Best I could do on such short notice. They’re for you, if you behave,” he says, talking to her like a pet being offered a treat.

Mary wrinkles her nose. “Pass. D’you even know all the chemicals they put in those things?”

Bucky shrugs and turns to offer them to officer Santiago, who more than happily accepts. Mary pouts as she watches him rip open the bag and stuff one in his mouth.

“How are you doing, Mary?”

She turns her attention to Bucky and scowls at the way he uses her name like he knows her. “Awful,” she says. She jerks her head at Santiago. “Officer Dickwad over here won’t let me have my phone.”

“Language,” Santiago says dispassionately, through a mouthful of cake. 

“Shut up and eat your fucking donut, Rent’a’cop.”

Bucky

He puts his foot down once she starts flinging curses and insults at the officer. As a paramedic, Steve is always in and out of emergency rooms, often working in coordination with law enforcement to deal with uncooperative patients. So Bucky knows just how much drama and belligerence these guys have to deal with on the regular. 

“Hey,” he says sternly. “Don’t disrespect him. He’s just doing his job.” He’s not mean about it, but it’s verging on what Steve likes to call his “Dom” voice, and Bucky can see how it affects Mary. She freezes up, all of her focus on him. For a few seconds, she even forgets to be angry. Bucky takes the opportunity to step close to the bed. He eyes where she’s cuffed to the rail. “Mary,” he says gently. “I know you don’t want to be here. I know you’re angry.”

“You’re damn right I am,” she growls. “They just showed up and threw me in a cop car! Didn’t even give me a choice!”

Bucky reaches out and places his hand atop her cuffed wrist. It’s his metal hand. Her eyes widen when she sees it, but she doesn’t pull away. “I know,” Bucky says. “And I’m sorry it happened that way. But do you understand why people were concerned for your safety?”

Her face tenses up as she tries to hold back some emotion (something tells Bucky it isn’t anger, this time). “They called the cops,” she pouts. “They lied to me.”

“They did,” Bucky agrees, wanting to placate her. “But you were hurting yourself, honey. And you were talking about doing worse, weren’t you?”

She can’t meet his eyes, instead staring at where he’s holding her wrist. “I … I talked about a lot of things,” she mumbles. “It was just talk. I don't even remember half of it. I didn’t … I wasn’t really gonna do anything.”

“Can you show me where you hurt yourself?” Bucky asks, careful to keep his voice gentle. “I want to see how bad it is.”

Mary shivers, shaking her head sadly. Her hair is loose and hanging messy around her face, so Bucky reaches up to tuck it behind her ear. He hears her give a quiet, shaky inhale. “Come on now,” he coaxes. “Let me see.”

For a long moment, it seems like she won’t obey, but then her shoulders sink down and she takes a deep breath and lets it out, whispering a tiny little. “... kay,” as her hands creep down to take hold of the tee shirt she’s wearing. It’s extra large, going all the way to her knees, and it’s all she’s wearing. Bucky doesn’t know if the police brought her in that way, or if it’s something the hospital gave her to put on after being examined, but either way, he schools his expression as she edges the tee shirt up her leg, higher and higher, until it becomes apparent that she is wearing underwear, and she’s bared her hip to him.

Cutting, then.

Bucky looks her over, not as upset by the fresh cuts so much as the old ones. They litter the skin of her upper thigh and hip—some so old they’re scars, some still in various stages of healing. Bucky forces himself not to touch, even though his brain is screaming at him to fix fix fix! There’s nothing here that can be fixed easily—certainly not with a bandaid. Bucky takes a moment to calm himself down before he asks, “How long have you been doing this, honey?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers. She shoves the tee shirt back down and meets his eyes. “Why are you here?”

Moment of truth, Bucky thinks. “The police called me. They got my number from your phone. They wanted to call your Dom to come get you.”

She frowns, looking confused. “But … you’re not—”

“Officer Santiago,” Bucky says quickly, cutting her off. “Could you give us a moment alone please?”

“Sure.” Santiago gets up and takes his bag of cakes with him. “Just a couple’a minutes,” he warns, then steps outside the curtain and pulls it shut. Bucky can see as his shoes walk away.

“You told them you were my Dom?!” Mary hisses.

Bucky looks at her sternly. “No. They assumed I was. You had me in your phone.”

“I … I did?”

Bucky’s mouth quirks. “Yeah, you did.”

“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” she huffs. “I’m not even submissive.”

“I think you know that’s not true,” Bucky says. He reaches up and gathers her hair back in one fist and pulls—gently, just enough to put the barest of pressure on her scalp—forcing her to raise her chin. She visibly reacts to it, softening into his grip, eyes slipping closed and features going slack. “You like that,” Bucky says, making it a statement rather than a question, because it’s obvious she does.

Her eyes open slowly. “S’nothing. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He releases her hair, cupping the back of her neck instead. He grips her firmly in his hand, and this time she nearly moans, lips parting and the sound coming out before she can fully stifle it. Bucky’s mouth curls and he hums. “And that? Is that ‘nothing’ too?”

“Please.” She’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact, which is typical. There’s a little pinch between her eyebrows that’s so sweet and needy, Bucky wants to kiss it. It makes her look like she might cry, and that thrills him too. “Please,” she whispers. “I just wanna go home.”

“You’re not going home, Honey,” he tells her, keeping the grip on her neck steady and petting at her hair with his other hand. She’s going down a little, likely so easily because of the alcohol in her system, because of how deprived she’s been until now. She whines a little at his words and he shushes her. “They won’t let you. You’re either gonna have to let me take you, or else stay here in the hospital, in the psych ward.”

Mary whimpers. “No.”

“Shhh,” he soothes. “I know. I don’t want that for you either, but you have to make the choice. If you want to leave here, then you have to sign the paperwork that gives me custody of you.” He tilts her chin up. “Look at me now, Honey.” She’s sluggish, so it takes a second, but her eyes come up as she obeys. They’re a little glossy, pupils blown wide, and Bucky gives her neck an encouraging squeeze. “Good girl,” he praises.

She practically melts at hearing that. “Please …” she says again. 

Bucky would bet money that she doesn’t know what she’s asking for. He does, though. He knows down to the marrow of his bones what a ‘please’ like that means. “Don’t worry, Doll. I’ll take care of you. I will.” He bends and pecks a kiss to her forehead, then steps away. She makes a weak noise of protest and he shushes her. 

“I’m just gonna go get officer Santiago back. … And my husband, Steve.”

She blinks at the word ‘husband’. “Steve?” she repeats, shoulders shrinking as she pulls into herself. “But—”

“It’s okay,” Bucky promises. “He’s a very nice man. You’ll like him.”

Mary looks unsure. Bucky’s glad she’s down, otherwise he’s fairly certain she’d be arguing by now, maybe even pitching a fit and cursing. Instead, what comes out of her mouth is a hesitant little, “... He’s like you?” 

“No. No he’s not designated. He’s—”

“Normal.” She says it so sadly, sounds so demoralized. Bucky has to fight the urge to correct her, to give her a speech about how, ‘just because they’re designated, it doesn’t make them abnormal’. He bites his tongue. What’s more important right now is that she’s making progress in accepting the reality that she’s almost certainly submissive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Steve’s not like us. But I wanted him to come in here and meet you. Do you think you can do that for me, Sweetie?” The pet names come naturally, are a part of his dynamic as a Dom, and Bucky can tell that she responds favorably to them. “Hm? Answer me, Mary.”

(And of course, the use of her name gets instant attention and obedience.)

“Okay,” she says. “Yes.”

He smiles and gives her a heartfelt, “Good girl,” wanting to show her that he’s pleased, that she’s doing well. “I’m gonna go get him, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Steve

Steve is equal parts excited and nervous to meet the woman Bucky has found, the woman they’re going to be taking care of. … Maybe more, if things work out. 

He holds Bucky’s hand as he’s led back to where the emergency room beds are. Bucky draws back the curtain and Steve sees the cop sitting there, looking bored, … and her.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Hey.”

She’s pretty—which is saying a lot, because that’s Steve’s first thought, despite the state of her. She’s got goo gobs of dark eye makeup that it looks like she put on once she was already drunk, and by now it’s been smeared to kingdom come by tears and her own hands. Her hair sits messy and unbrushed around her shoulders, and her eyes are glazed and tired from a high that’s probably going to wear off soon and leave her looking even more exhausted than she already does. 

“Hey,” Steve says, eyes flicking up and down her body where she’s sitting on the bed. She’s wearing nothing but a big tee shirt, and Steve allows himself one glance down at her shapely legs, then resolutely keeps his eyes trained upwards. She’s a disheveled mess, but even like that, Steve can see how she drew Bucky’s attention, that day in the café.

“Hi,” Mary says.

Steve smiles hopefully. By his side, Bucky squeezes his hand in encouragement, and offers, “Mary, this is Steve, my husband.”

Steve watches her face, curious to know what she thinks of Bucky being married. He’s expecting displeasure maybe, imagining that a submissive would feel jealous or upset, if their prospective Dom was already attached to someone else.

But she seems to stay calm, sitting there and taking Steve in with slow blinks, even looking a little bit shy herself. “... You’re big,” she eventually says. “I thought you’d be smaller than him.”

Steve grins and he hears Bucky’s scoffed, “Size has nothing to do with our dynamic.”

Steve knows he’s got half an inch on Bucky, more muscle mass too, but he’s never felt bigger than his husband. Bucky’s personality, his dominance, is larger than Steve.

Mary’s still staring at him, a thoughtful little pinch between her eyebrows. Steve waits in expectation of a question, but none comes. “What?” he asks. He pulls up the room’s extra plastic chair and sits close to the bed, offering her his hand. He’s surprised when she takes it. Steve stares thoughtfully at his hand as she drags her fingers over his fingers, his palm, still not saying anything. He looks over at Bucky, concerned. “Did they give her drugs?”

Thankfully, Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. “She’s down,” he explains.

Oh. Okay. That’d explain her calm affect. Steve had come in here halfway expecting a screaming hellcat. He hadn’t expected this. He turns back to Mary, giving her a friendly look. “Did you have questions you wanted to ask me?”

She bites her lip, clearly working something out in her head. “Bucky said you two have a ‘dynamic’.”

“He did.”

“But he said you’re normal.”

Steve’s lips thin once he figures out what she means. “We’re all normal,” he scolds. “But no, I don’t have ‘Dominant or Submissive Personality Disorder’, if that’s what you mean.” He puts sarcastic quotes around words to clearly convey his distaste for the classification. He wants her to know how ridiculous he finds it.

“Babe,” Bucky warns quietly from behind. “We’re not getting political right now, okay? Just focus on her, on what we have to do.”

“Right, sorry.” He knows that Bucky’s right, so he tries again, telling Mary, “I’m ‘normal’, but Bucky and I still have a very intimate relationship together. We’re husbands. So yeah, we’ve developed our own dynamic. When I’m with him I tend to follow his lead, so to speak.” He smiles and shrugs. “It works for us.”

Mary looks like she’s thinking this new information over. There’s a slowness to her, a dreaminess in her expressions and her reactions.Steve figures it’s a combination of her being down, and not being sober. In fact, he can smell the vodka leaking out of her pores. It’s actually pretty horrible. “So does that make sense?” he prods her gently. “Mary?”

“… Yeah, I think so.” She eyes him up and down, looking back and forth between him and Bucky. “What will you do?” she asks Steve. She blushes a little from asking the question, so he deduces that she’s asking what he’ll do with her; what their dynamic together will be, outside of her and Bucky.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, because that’s all he knows for sure, and he wants her to feel safe. Steve knows that it’s absolutely crucial for this woman to feel safe right now, if they’re going to take her home with them. “Bucky and I both will.” He holds her hand—the one that isn’t cuffed to the bed—enveloping it between his. “It’ll be much better than staying here,” he promises. “You’ll be so safe. And much happier.”

Mary’s body draws in, seems to actually get smaller as she pulls back into herself. “I’m never happy,” she says mournfully. It hurts Steve’s heart to see it, so he knows it must be killing Bucky, given his overly protective instincts. Steve glances over at him. “Babe?”

Bucky has a clipboard full of papers, which Steve knows must be the custody orders. “Here, Honey,” he tells Mary, handing her the clipboard and the pen. “This is what you have to sign to be able to come home with us.”

It kind of bothers Steve that Bucky doesn’t encourage her to read through the documents more thoroughly, but he doesn’t say anything because he knows they have only the best intentions for her. She’ll be safe with them. He watches as she signs her signature in the places Bucky points out, trying to scan some of the fine print as she goes. Anxiety is written across her face and she starts to bite at the chapped skin on her bottom lip. “But, um … what if I’m not what you think?” she worried, not looking at either of them. 

Bucky pets her hair and reassures her. “You are, sweetheart. Trust me. And we’re gonna take you to a therapist anyway, to get an official diagnosis.”

Normally Steve would be scoffing at the word “diagnosis,” but he’s too busy watching the two of them together. There’s a strange feeling in his gut, at seeing his husband touch Mary like that, at hearing him call her pet names and calmly take control of her. Steve’s never seen Bucky dom another person before, and he … he kind of doesn’t hate it. In fact, it’s actually making him feel all the more attracted to Bucky, and curious about Mary. Like he wants to help, wants to get to know her.

She signs the rest of the documents without making a fuss, so Steve figures he’ll be getting that chance.

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Square G5: Dom!Bucky Barnes

[captaincapsicle83]

At First Sight ○○ Bucky Barnes x reader

Pairings: Natasha x reader (platonic), Wanda x reader (platonic), Clinton x reader (platonic), Bucky x reader

Plot: Your roommates set you up on a date with their coworker, and you two hit it off right away. (Most of this story is silly little platonic fun, but I like it anyway).

(The little gif of him drinking water is funnier after you read the story)

“He has a cat.”

“Well, whoop-di-do,” You huff monotonously. Wanda scrunches up her nose at you, before sighing and shaking her head.

“I think you should go,” She says. You risk rolling your eyes, even though she could very well kill you, then and there.

“‘I think you should go’” You say, making your voice go higher, in a mocking tone. “If he’s so great, you go. I have a ton of work to do.”

Just last year, you landed a teaching position. It had been in May, and you were given hardly any time at all to prep. School started again in a week, and even though you’d been preparing loosely all summer, this week you were locked in.

So why the hell did Wanda need you to go on a stupid date?

“If you don’t go, there’s a good chance you’ll die alone,” She crosses her arms, eyebrows raised.

“You’re here, and so is Natasha,” You point out, finally putting your laptop to the side, and uncrossing your legs, stretching them out.

“What about when we go get married and have lives, and have jobs, and you just…die of boredom,” What was this a Sims game? Was she gonna lock you in a room with a radio next? Put the walls up around a pool?

“Clint’ll be here. Poor little shit’s never getting married. No one wants the little scrapper,” You pull your coffee mug to your lips. You must’ve left it idle longer than intended, because instead of warm, silky, and smooth, it was starkly cold, and felt thin beyond your lips.

“You want him?” Her eyes were annoyed, but her face was bemused.

“He’s low maintenance,” You shrug.

“Who?” Someone says, coming through the front door with an armload of groceries, and a red-haired friend behind them. While Clint had about ten plastic bags of things, Natasha sipped an iced coffee from a straw, looking awfully unbothered.

“Why does she still look homeless Wanda?” Nat questioned. “You said you were gonna drag her kicking and screaming.”

“We were getting there.”

Four people in one New York apartment, in upper Manhatten. It was expensive as high hell, but you all made it work.

So why am I gonna put my job on hold for something stupid as this-

You’re sitting on Wanda’s bed, Natasha’s fingers in your hair, Wanda in her closet, and Clint tasked with the job of “make-up artist”.

“I have my hobbies.”

You’re just about at the end of your rope with them, Wanda picking something out and Clint huffing and puffing that it doesn’t go with the look he’s going for, Natasha yelling at both of them like children. Finally, the timer that means, “We better be ready now or we’re gonna be late” sounds off. Wanda’s best idea today, the worst being, obviously…

Natasha and Wanda have tickets for an art gallery opening, so they’re both driving you, Clint tagging along for “moral support.” Groans were elicited.

Natasha was giving you a run down the whole way there.

“He’s a little quiet at first,” She says.

“Good thing you’re not,” Clint whispers to you.

“I don’t know if he’ll get there first, or not, but he’s got dark hair and will probably be wearing dark clothes, he does around the office all the time.”

“Emo bo-” Clint cuts himself off from his whisper, snapping to Natasha. “He works with us.”

“Yes.”

Silence…

“Well, who is it?” Clint asks, rather boisterously.

“…No.”

“No?” Clint, clearly offended, turns to you. “What’s his name?”

Your mouth opens, before shutting again, realizing no one had told you. You lean forward in the backseat.

“Who is it, Nat?”

“You’ll see.”

“No-” “Nuh-uh!” You and Clint both protest.

“I’ve been to your guys’ office I wanna know,” you say.

“Better pray it’s Steve,” Clint says.

“Oh, Natasha it better be Steve.”

Natasha turns around in the passenger seat, to face you and Clint in the back.

“Steve is engaged,” She starts.

“Yeah, so?” Clint says, and the car is quiet for a moment. When you make eye contact with Clint’s green eyes, the silence is cut by both of your laughter.

Unfortunately, this put a dent in the interrogation, and now you were outside of the diner. Your friends had told you good luck and left you here. You did notice Natasha whisper something to Clint as you got out, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. She covered his mouth and basically strangled him down when he tried to tell you.

Since they were gone…no one could force you to go in…

You couldn’t do that. Morally, you would feel horrible to just leave whoever this is sitting alone, waiting for you.

And the girls might evict you.

You walked through the doors of the diner. The diner was a cute little place, albeit a strange theme. It was based on Norse Mythology, called “Odin’s Sons.”

You were greeted by a blonde man, who was the hostess. You told him you were here to meet a date and he broke out into a smile. He said a man had arrived just a little while ago, here to wait for a date.

He led you to a table, where you were greeted by-

before

“I think you’ll like it,” Sam was saying. He was helping his friend, coworker, and roommate, get ready for a date Sam had set up for him.

“Who is she again?” Bucky asked, his voice strained.

“You don’t know her, but she’s Nat and Clint’s friend. She’s in some of the pictures on Clint’s stupid little desk of picture frames,” Bucky rolled his eyes at the mention of the pictures. Clint took many unauthorized pictures of Bucky himself (among others) and they ended up in frames. Clint claimed that, being an art major, and having taken many photography classes, he had the ultimate right.

As Sam described what you looked like, Bucky felt like he did sorta know who he was talking about. You came into the office sometimes, to bring whiny Clint and grateful Natasha food and coffee.

And you were probably the same girl Clint tortured and made fun of him for having a “crush” on.

Bucky arrived at the restaurant about half an hour before he was due. He wanted to be early and to have time to shake away all the nerves.

Well, maybe all was a bit much to ask. There were definitely a lot of nerves to cover.

He was greeted by Thor, the host who gave him a seat. A teenage boy with light brown hair and a bubbly personality brought him a glass of water and some bread. And another glass of water. And another. And a refill of bread.

“Thanks, Peter,” Bucky said again. No matter how many times the boy had to come back, he didn’t seem to stop smiling or being glad to get Bucky yet another glass of water.

As Thor came around the corner again, just as Peter was leaving, he was accompanied by the very girl Bucky had guessed it would be.

You were laughing, he could see, something Thor had said. Time felt like it was slowed as you met his eyes with yours. They seemed to sparkle with your joy, and his heart fluttered at the sight.

He hadn’t seen you so elegant before, but to him, you looked just as beautiful with or without. The makeup that defined your features seemed to have been applied with a steady hand. The dress you wore seemed to almost go with the makeup, and he wondered if it was planned or if you were just…perfect.

He had barely any time at all to gather his thoughts and put his ducks in a row before you sat across from him, smiling warmly. He smiled back, unable to say or do anything but sip his water.

“Hi,” You said. Your heart was pounding, and your heads were sweaty with nervousness. He set down his water glass that he had been holding since you came around the corner with Thor. He was barely finished saying hi back when the young waiter came to take your order.

He ordered first, and you quickly scanned the menu and picked something. The boy smiled warmly as he collected the menus from you, with the promise your food would be out soon.

“So,” The dark-haired man cleared his throat. You were entranced by the blue of his eyes as he said, “You…your name’s Y/n, right?”

“Hmm? Oh!” You realized you were basically questioning your own name, only a second too late. “Yeah, yeah, uh…Nat…asha, didn’t really tell me…your name.”

You decided on the long version of Nat’s name, taking a pause beforehand. You were grateful when the waiter, Peter, popped up out of nowhere with a drink you ordered, and more water for your date.

“It’s Bucky…Well, I mean, it’s James, but everyone calls me Bucky,” “Bucky” gave you a lopsided smile, which you returned.

Peter wasn’t lying when he said your food would be out right away. It seemed like you had barely taken the time to talk before your plates were in front of you.

“So you have…?”

“Three roommates,” you said, laughing a little.

“Oh god, and one of them’s Clint?” His face was twisted in genuine concern, which made you laugh a little harder. Bucky was hot and Bucky was funny and you could hardly take it.

“What about you?”

“It’s just me and Sam right now…and we have a cat,” He adds the last part after taking a sip of his drink.

“You don’t look like a cat person,” You shake your head, taking a bite of your food.

“If I wear clothes that haven’t immediately come out of the dryer, I look like a cat,” He says, and then seems to pull a white cat hair off of his black shirt.

“You need lighter clothes.”

“Not really my style.”

“You’re eternally a goth kid?”

He lets out a loud laugh at that, making you smile even harder.

~~~

“She was hot, and she was funny,” Bucky was saying to Sam. Sam was lying stretched out on the couch, Alpine laying pristinely on his chest, all her legs tucked under her fluffy body.

“That’s nice Bucky,” Sam says, only half paying attention. He coos at the cat, scratching her chin, “Isn’t that nice baby?”

“Okay, you’re not listening.”

“What makes you think that?”

~~~

You were laying on your couch, your feet in Clint’s lap as he prodded you with questions. Natasha shushed him, smacking him upside the head, as she handed you a drink. And by drink, that refers to an entire bottle of wine.

You were fiddling with the cork as you droned on about the date. About what Bucky looked like, and about what you talked about. More about what he looked like…

You let yourself trail off as Natasha and Clint shared a knowing look, and Wanda was smiling to herself as she played on her phone.

“What?” you ask, eyes full of innocence.

“Noth-” Wanda starts, but Clint cuts her off.

“You’re whipped,” he laughs.

You smile to yourself, shaking your head.

Maybe you were.

[gibbs88]

exposure therapy - (coyle/fem!oc)

short fic i wrote for my other OC who i never talk about because she has a ton of pre-trials lore i still haven’t physically written lol. no smut but it’s a bit suggestive. probably gonna vomit all these finished Coyle WIPs into a collection on ao3 soon.

Even in this Hell of stainless steel and fluorescent lights she can’t forget him. They shove experimental pharmaceuticals down her throat and lock her in a chamber full of nothing but one long sustained beeping noise and nothing changes.

Injections. Sensory deprivation. Electroshock therapy. 

Some days she wakes up forgetting her own face, her own name. Never him. He’s bigger than her own ego. 

Dr. Easterman visits her personally one day (over the television in her room, of course) and tells her that she’s ready for her first Trial. Exposure therapy, he says. It’s a special experience just for her, because he’s so invested in helping her get better.

She can barely sleep these days but that’s okay. They give her a drug for that, too.

She dreams so vividly that night that she can’t even remember closing her eyes.

“Mia.”

She jolts awake and she’s back home, back in her bed, muslin cloth sheets drawn up to her chin. It’s a humid summer night and she knows it’s raining before she even looks outside the window, because she remembers this exact night. The night when everything changed. 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She doesn’t want to get out of bed because she knows what will happen, but she seemingly doesn’t have a choice. Her feet touch the hardwood floor and it’s so humid that they’re slightly sticky. Was this a dream at all? Maybe she had died and that sterile Hell was actually Purgatory. 

The cute little Oklahoma farmhouse she loved so much is empty as if she had never lived there at all. Maybe she’s already forgotten what the furniture looks like.

Thunder rumbles in the distance and she feels it vibrate in her bones like the throaty growl of some kind of animal. Maybe it's a warning. 

Don’t open the front door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Lightning illuminates his silhouette through the screen door and still she opens it, the scene playing out like a film reel. She’s dreaming and perfectly lucid at the same time.

“Mia.”

Her name, not a series of numbers. He’s soaked to the bone and seems possessed as he backs her into a wall, his hands greedy and rough as he hikes the hem of her nightgown up over her thighs. 

Their relationship had always been torrid—passionate—but on this night he seemed to want to forget something. Maybe himself.

Leland Coyle is a hulking shadow that leaves dark handprints on wherever he touches. He kisses her and it tastes like whiskey and blood and smoke. It chokes her and she wants to breathe nothing but him at the same time. 

She doesn’t understand. 

You liked feeling wanted, even if you were just a possession, not a person. 

Just like those war trophies of his. Dog tags, a Japanese katana…

Those gold-capped human teeth.

But maybe you’re special. You can walk and talk and fuck.

Did you think you wouldn’t end up like the others? That if you ignored it, it would all go away?

That you could just go away…?

—Nine-Tenths of the FUCKIN’ LAW—

Mia jerks awake to a high-pitched sound and hears someone cursing before she’s blinded by pain at her temples. Her instincts force her to vomit up a shriek and two people in white outfits have to hold her down while another injects her with something that makes her bones turn into jelly.

The next time she wakes up she’s being strapped to a chair and her head still really hurts. 

There’s a weight that wasn’t there before and she nearly screams again as she feels something metallic seemingly attached to her skull now. It reminds her of the visor that her father would wear at his welding job but also more complicated. 

She tries to think about her father to distract herself 

but it only makes her want to cry instead, so she stops. Her eyes are sore too. 

After a few minutes she realizes that she’s moving, or at least whatever she’s in is slowing down, and the restraints attached to her chair retract. She blinks a few times and just stares at the green light above the doors. Is it a trick?

Why does it say “Police Station”?

[bitchlessdino]

You know i love dino but i also really really love boo seungkwan so how about a morning coffee/brunch date with kwannie 🫶🏼

Pairing: gn!reader x seungkwan

Genre: fluff

word count:2.5k

tags: brunch date, blind dates, book stores, sunset

Summary: Blind dates aren’t really your jam so you didn’t expect to enjoy this one so much.

No description, no name, no age, absolutely nothing. You were walking into the face of danger. Well, maybe not danger per say, but a blind date with no context and absolutely no point of reference to who your date would be. All your friend that set you up said that it was a total surprise and that he is a total hottie, completely your type.

Your eyes watch over the tons of people in crowded brunch places, already told that your date was waiting for you inside. Your friend texted ahead of time that he’d be early, hoping to make the situation a tiny bit easier for you. It did not.

Luck struck when your eyes land on someone you would define as a ‘hottie’ and met his round eyes before seeing him timidly smiling at you in the midst of the noise. He put up his hand and waves, to which you do right back.  You stare at him for a minute before realizing he’s urging you to take a seat, quickly following through. “Sorry, you’ve probably been waiting a hot minute.”

“Not at all, glad you could make it.”

“They literally didn’t tell me anything, just that I would know and here you are.” You playfully present.

“And here you are! Wow, I was told you were gorgeous, she was not kidding.”

His words already had you flustering, knowing you had those exact thoughts about him in your head. You cup your cheeks in embarrassment before immediately changing the topic. “Thank you, um, have you ordered yet?”

He shakes his head, “Just some water for now. Didn’t want to get my food before yours. They have a special, or you can get the surf and turf brunch item, gosh so many options, and mimosas! Hopefully bottomless, but ha, probably shouldn’t be drunk on a first date—oh my god, my head is all over the place. I’m Seungkwan, by the way.”

Gosh, he was way cuter than you anticipated.

“Thank you for reminding me, I definitely would’ve forgotten to ask. I’m Y/n.” You put your hand out for a handshake, which he accepts, firming grasping in a hearty friendly shake.

“I’m saying this more for myself than you, but let's relax. No formalities. I’m not really sure of blind date etiquette, to be honest.”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh a breath of relief, “Me too, I had no idea what to expect, but I’m starving, so don’t mind me while I scarf down a whole brunch special.”

“I am glad you said that because I will have no reason not to scarf down mine.” He put his hands up and caught the attention of the waiter tending to him before. “Hi, we’re ready to get some drinks—wait are you? Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Oh no, you're on the money. I’m ready.”

You get your orders in, along with Seungkwan and it doesn't take long to get back into the flow of things. You wish that friend told you he was a conversationalist, you were initially worried you’d be doing all the heavy lifting. It made you wonder what was wrong with him that he was still single. He was super attractive, entertaining, and fit; a total catch. What was his deal?

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but, what’s wrong with you?”

He bursts into laughter, your crass language taking him by surprise, finding it refreshing and even delightful. “What’s wrong with me? What did I do?”

“You’re just…I don’t know, perfect? Why did you accept going on a blind date? I feel like you’re perfectly capable of finding someone.”

He nods in comprehension, seeing where you went with pretty much insulting him within the half hour of talking. “Ah-ha, you say that, but I’ve hardly even made plans after a second, heck even a first date.”

“So, what is it? Dog hater? Conspiracy theorist? Or the worst of all…you’re a ‘movies over books’ guy.”

“Okay, okay. One, no. Two, I don’t even know what that would entail. Three, movies are better, okay?”

“Your flaws are unraveling right now. You’re on my watchlist,” You joke–notice the pun–in a feign serious tone, narrowing your eyes as he lightheartedly rolls his. “Okay, then what is it?”

He shrugs, unsure himself. He would ask himself that every day, and he’s sure–he hopes–he’s following every rule of not being an asshole with potential partners, but something always still missing. “I don’t know, I’ve just been told I’m not really…boyfriend material. They all end up wanting to be friends with me and nothing more. I don’t really get what I’m doing wrong if I’m being honest.”

You hum in ponder, elbow propped with a curved hand to your cheek. “That’s kind of hard to depict. So, you’re either the nicest guy on the planet or the worst guy possible.”

“Why?”

His sincerely hurt tone lets you know he’s assumed the latter, now making you both linger on the significance words ‘the worst’ like it was poetry poorly crafted in a beginner's workshop. Seungkwan at the moment is trying to figure out the trials and tribulations of adult dating, whereas you wondered why he was already pondering on the negative conclusion.

“Well, to say the furthest you’ve made it is only at the end of the second date can be a red flag in itself, but you have yet called yourself a ‘nice guy’, which means it’s more likely than not you are actually a nice guy. And that’s maybe the issue. You’re not setting off romantic vibes, hell, you even said we should drop the formalities.”

He shot his eyes and finger at you, accusatory, “Which you agreed to!”

“And accepting that too quickly was your first wrong step in the wrong direction.” You retort smugly. “Dating is like a soccer field, Seungkwan. You make the right moves, you score a goal.”

“...I do like soccer and scoring goals.”

“Well, so far you’re kicking the ball directly at the goalie’s feet instead of strategically making it to the net.”

“Alright then,” his elbows are parallel to each other as the interlock of his fingers holds up his face in amused anticipation, “What do you suggest I can do better?”

You stretch your lips out in a wide grin, already listing out the unorthodox first date activities you can teach him, but decides to spare him. Before you get started, you made made sure to finish your meals, leaving a decent tip when the bill arrived. You drag him out of the brunch place with a hand wrapped around his slim wrist and towards the direction of a bookstore, you knew is not too far from here. 

“Books…” he whines, “I’m eating my movies over books comment, aren’t I? You’re going to force me to read?”

“Tip numero uno: try doing things that your date might enjoy. There is so much magic in reading,” You run a finger through a shelf you know all too well and hand him the hardcover, “Here, go nuts.”

He playfully grimaces, observing the foreign object you’ve put in his hands, feeling the indentation of its engravings and subtle, yet stimulating, cover art it had to offer; in the midst a black, shots of red, purple, and yellow all over. It was, admittedly, beautiful, but wasn’t the saying always ‘don’t judge a book by its cover.’

“I don’t get it.”

“Just read. I’ll pick up one myself and we’ll share a spot in a corner with intimate lighting and little space.” You wink at him, grinning.

He can’t help but grin back, “Alright. Lead the way.”

You sit in the silence of each other in close space as you promise, scanning the jumbles and combinations of letters that would stare back at you. Although your selection was a mildly good read, you were curious about Seungkwan’s journey as you peek up from the covers and see him enthralled with the content (a good change from the yawning he was exhibiting earlier).

“How is it,” you whisper.

He barely catches your words in his immersion and looks up confused, clearing his throat as you blink back at him with a goofy grin on your face. He tries not to let the corner of his lips twitch, but fails. “Slow beginning, some alright pacing, have to admit.”

You nod, pretending to take notes, “Something worth finishing?”

“...Be honest, you brought me here so I would shut up, didn’t you?”

You snort, covering your face with your book. “Maybe you’d be cuter if you were quiet,” you answer, not denying it.

“That is so mean of you to say—you’re lucky I enjoy your company.”

As you enjoy his. Fortunately for both of you, you finished your books (thank goodness for fast reading and short books) and you both leave the store, surprisingly content with what has come out of it. You can tell he enjoys it, even if he denies it and triumphantly says movies are always better. There are smiles on both your faces, hands lingering at each other's side. For a somewhat quiet afternoon, it felt like I’d be memorable, at least for a first blind date.

“Look, the sun's setting,” you point out.

The air felt warm and alive, you’d think it’d have a mind of its own. This lights up a figurative bulb in Seungkwan’s brain, now having him be the one to tug to a place of unknown, and for some reason, you were okay with that, and rightfully so. You stumble upon a park together, luscious green grass with tall fibrous green trees to match.  It was a sign spring was finally here to embrace and enjoy. His hand now interlocked with yours, leads you to an empty park bench, hitting in direct line with the descending star in the sky, sharing a sigh as the colors shift gradually before your eyes.

For the first time in some time, you felt your heart tingle and were unsure whether it was the painting-eque scene before you, the soothing buzz of insects including the appearance of crickets coming out of hiding, or how Seungkwan’s thumb brushes against the back of your hand like it belongs there. Your once normal temperature hand felt warm in his, even comforting despite him being a stranger still, but something about it makes it ok. Seungkwan makes it okay.

“I haven’t watched the sun set like this in so long,” He admits.

“Why’s that?”

He looks down at his lap, a smile on his face. “Something I used to do back when I had free time, or when I needed time to think. I don’t really get that these days.”

“I can say the same.”

There’s an unspoken message you both share. Somewhere in the past that made a reason to stop moments like this. You both had the respect not to pry. The silence spoke for itself, a comfortable kind of silence, the kind that even Seungkwan found himself enjoying.

“I had a really nice day with you.”

You’ve both reached the footsteps of your front steps to your building, lacking the desire to end the day. Your hand feels like it’s fused into his and now you’re worried about how cold it’d be without him. Despite your remorseful mood, you hum, letting him know the feelings were mutual.

In his eyes, you sense hesitancy, feeling the disheartening sensation as he plucks his fingers away from you, and sighs in disbelief. The day just had to be over. He locks with your gaze, holding onto it as if he never would again. Just as you wave your hand at bidding him an amicable goodbye, he calls out your name to make you stop. You turn to him slowly, almost expecting—no hoping—it’s exactly what you think he’s going to ask you.

“Can I…kiss you?”

His tone resembles that of a timid schoolboy: a light dusting of red on his cheeks and ears, his eyes shifting back and forth, and his lips quivering before even forming those words. You lightly giggle, walking back towards him, standing close enough to him you can still smell the syrup breath from the brunch you had together, reminding you really needed to fix something for yourself when you get inside.

“Depends, is that something you ask on all your first dates?”

He shakes his head apologetically in defense. “N-not at all, I just thought, we had this moment—or I guess a lot of them, I don't know, maybe just me—that I wanted to do it but felt awkward to ask, but now I’m asking anyway which kind of proves me right—mmp.”

Your lips meet his mid-speech, lucky for you since the curve of your lips fit perfectly through the gap of his, close your eyes, and sigh in bliss when you feel how lush and soft they feel. Seungkwan pauses for a moment, for the first time glad he’s being interrupted, and reciprocates with heavy lids, savoring the felt and taste. It’s chaste and magical and even peaceful, something you could only read in books or watch in movies or experience after having starved yourself all day waiting for the morning to come so you can have breakfast. His hand finds your shoulder, steadying himself against it, but pulling you closer, the heat of the kiss making him momentarily lose all of his remaining senses. It leaves him wanting more, more than what first fate normally could offer, and he begs himself to keep it together.

When you part, it’s like a ghost of his lips is still there and you smile. “You talk so much.”

“Sorry.” 

You shake your head, grinning harder than ever. “It’s cute.”

His eyes finally shoot open and he drops his jaw in realization. “Your number! Oh my god, I was going to ask before you were going to leave—I mean if you wanted to give—“

“Sure,” you pull out your device from your pocket and are met with several missed calls and messages, ones that had you shocked, almost erupting with boisterous laughter. “Oh, my god.”

“What? You changed your mind didn’t you?”

You shake your head again, showing him your phone.

Jihyo: where are you

Jihyo: don’t you ignore me

Jihyo: you did not just ditch my guy 

Jihyo: you better have a good explanation on why you left a perfectly good date waiting around for you and didn’t have AT LEAST the decency to give me a heads up

Jihyo: OMG ARE YOU ACTUALLY KIDNAPPED, IM GONNA KILL YOU IF YOU'RE ACTUALLY KIDNAPPED

Seungkwan sees what you mean and laughs with you, now has the urge to pick up his phone and see a similar flurry of messages from his friend. You match in an expression of disbelief, finding this situation serendipitous, and although remorseful of having left out their real dates, they were not regretful of having met each other. It makes this encounter a lot more special knowing it wasn’t meant to happen yet the universe made it out to be that way. You both hope this time it’ll last.

[wren-writes-things]

Hii wren <3

1, 8, 10, 28 for soft asks :3

Hey Pixel! How have you been?

1. What song makes you feel better?

Well music just calms me down in general, I’ve always just really enjoyed the piano and singing. So you can probably get me to listen to just about anything and I’ll probably be happy.

But let’s see… New Discovery by the Crane Wives and Meteor Shower by Cavetown both have a really nice imagery to them and I appreciate that. Also my roommate writes music and I always love hearing what she’s working on because I know she puts a lot of work into them.

Oh the BotW soundtrack. My absolute adoration for that game might provide a bias but I love it so much.

8. Tag someone (or multiple people) who make you feel good.

I had things to say and it got out of hand, this is not my fault. Also I realized partway through this that a surprisingly large percentage of my mutuals are trying to kill me with their fanfics. “Guys, you have to stop, I can only take so many emotions,” they say, as if they don’t choose which fanfics they read.

@liminal-lesbian | You’ve always left really supportive comments when I posted stuff about my AUs and you’re just a really nice person. It also makes up for the fact that your last fanfic inflicted permanent trauma on me. (Joking on that last part but seriously if you haven’t read her fanfics drop everything you’re doing and go read them now. You could be literally trying to save the world but this takes priority.)

@the-god-of-chaos-himself | You might have an evil alter ego trying to murder me as I type this, but you’re an awesome person to talk to and I enjoy our conversations. (Yes this does imply Dalex is trying to stab me and I’m just typing on my phone, I have ADHD what do you expect?)

@kiwibirb1 | I was so excited when we became mutuals the other day the other day, you’re just a very cool person and I’m always excited to see what new ideas you have.

@detentiontrack | So we do not talk much and I legitimately did not know you were aware of my existence, but you said I was nice the other day and it just made me really happy. Plus I just find your blog really interesting.

@sars-wulf | While you’re definitely trying to murder my emotional stability with your writing you are very cool. I really just enjoy talking to you.

@aspynnwoofs | You’re really exciting to have boop wars against, also you’re just a really nice person! We do not talk a ton (because I’m pretty sure we’re both bad at conversation initiation), but I really enjoy seeing you.

@meowlphibia | You’ve successfully become the most reasonable one in the adoptive family of Marcy Wu, but only because everyone else is completely unhinged. Congratulations on this award. Honestly though you’re just a really cool person to talk to.

@heart-wit-strength | The joy that I experience every time I notice you in my notifications is astounding. You’re just a really cool person with really interesting Amphibia takes and AUs. Also you gave me claws one time via polls and I wish to assure you that I have made the best use of them.

10. What's something you’re excited for?

Ooh! I have an example that isn't Amphibia related for once. Epic The Underworld Saga is coming out soon, which yes I am aware you know (because you're the one who cursed me with this interest, and I mean that positively) The music is just so well done and I’m really looking forward to it. The Art of Amphibia is coming out and I need it! Oh also Stardew Valley updated and I’m really looking forward to when the update is available on the switch.

28. hugs or hand-holding?

Hugs, they’re just really nice.

[steddieas-shegoes]

just the king

for @strangerthingsocweek prompt 'favorite tropes'

rated t | 1,576 words | tags: only one bed but with a twist, steve and meg are so bitchy, high school sleepover vibes except they're both grown ass adults

🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️

Meg was so used to staying in hotels by now, she hadn’t even considered the fact that someone would have booked her and Steve in a room with only a king bed.

It was pretty standard to just always get a room with two beds. She never even asked, really, it’s just what they always got.

Except now.

Steve looked over at her, scowling and incredibly unamused.

“When I agreed to bunk with you for the next few nights, I didn’t think it meant literally sharing one bed,” he said.

Meg tried not to take it personally. Robin went home for her parent’s 25th wedding anniversary and the band had tons of interviews set up over the next three days that basically left Meg and Steve to their own devices.

They agreed sharing a room made sense since the guys would be coming and going at weird hours and neither of them liked being alone for too long.

But Meg was rethinking that right now.

“I can call the front desk. Maybe they just assumed we were together or something,” Meg shrugged.

It was nearly 11 at night, and they’d been busy all day, so their patience was hanging on by a very thin thread. Meg didn’t wanna snap on him and she knew Steve didn’t wanna snap on her.

“I’m gonna change while you do that. I can feel my jeans making me meaner.”

Meg snorted as she walked to the phone by the bed.

She dialed down to the front desk and spoke casually for a moment with the woman who checked them in.

“So, our room is a king and we kinda need two beds. Any way we can be switched? I can pay more if we need to,” Meg saw Steve nearly fall while changing his pants out of the corner of her eye and tried not to laugh.

“I’m so sorry about that, ma’am. Um, I don’t see any doubles available.”

“Any suites? I will pay.”

She heard typing and clicking, but already knew what the answer would be.

“Unfortunately, I only have king rooms available. I can check with our sister hotel a few miles up the road, but I do believe they’re fully booked for this weekend due to the concert.”

Meg groaned, but didn’t want the woman to feel bad. “Okay, I understand. Do you have any kings? Maybe my friend could just get his own room.”

Steve looked over at her and shook his head. “It’s not that serious. I mean you don’t take up that much room. We can manage one night and maybe something will be available for tomorrow night.”

Meg thanked the woman on the phone – May maybe? – and hung up, turning to Steve.

“If you kick me, you’re going to the suite with the guys and you get to deal with them getting back at three in the morning and having to leave again at seven. Bet they won’t even shower.”

They both grimaced, realizing that was probably true. On press junkets and tour date weekends, they rarely had time to shower if they wanted to grab a couple of hours of sleep. The smell was…not good.

“I’ll put pillows between us,” Steve offered.

“But then how will we cuddle?” Meg pouted.

“You’ll just have to make do,” Steve rolled his eyes as he went to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. “Heard from Robin yet?”

“No,” Meg answered, changing into her comfy clothes while he was in the bathroom. “She said 16 of her cousins showed up uninvited. I’m not sure if she’s dead or if she’s just doing damage control.”

Steve looked around the bathroom door with bubbles covering his face. “16? I thought she only had three.”

“She thought she only had three. Apparently she has about 50 second and third cousins who decided to make themselves a part of the celebration.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Meg walked into the bathroom to start on her skincare routine, smiling to herself at how much Steve sounded like Eddie. It shouldn’t be surprising; They were attached at the hip and apparently had been long before Meg even met the band.

They continued getting ready for bed in a comfortable silence, Steve’s phone playing a playlist almost certainly put together by Eddie on a low volume.

And then they both looked at the bed.

“I claim by the air conditioner,” Steve said. “I get hot at night.”

“Oh I know,” Meg said. Robin had told her how often she woke up next to Steve sweating because of his body heat. “All yours.”

They kept the bathroom light on, door cracked open just enough for a tiny glow to break through to the room so it wasn’t pitch black. Neither of them commented on it, neither of them needed to. Steve didn’t like not being able to see a little in an emergency and Meg wasn’t going to deny him his comfort.

“You know, I don’t remember the last time just the two of us hung out,” Steve said quietly as he turned to her in bed. “Been a while.”

“Yeah,” she answered. “At least six months or so. Miss me?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

One thing about Steve was he was honest, sometimes heartbreakingly so.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I mean, obviously Robin is my platonic soulmate, and Eddie is my actual non-platonic soulmate, but I think you’re probably a soulmate by proxy or something.” Steve smiled. “Or at least one of my best friends. Kinda wish we had more time without everyone else.”

“Is this the King Harrington I’ve heard so much about?” Meg teased, pushing on his shoulder. “Your charm is pretty impressive.”

“Is it? It barely works on Eddie anymore so I figured I lost my touch.”

They both laughed. “You think it doesn’t work on Eddie? He wrote an entire song about being charmed by you. Literally called it King of Charm.”

“He writes about a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah, and all of it is based on truth. You think I don’t know what Tied Up is actually about?” She could see Steve blush even in the darkness. “Or the new song?”

“New song?” Steve perked up at that. “They recorded it?”

“Mhm. And we are all sworn to secrecy on it so don’t even try,” Meg closed her eyes pretending to be trying to fall asleep.

“You’re seriously falling asleep after that.”

Meg opened one eye and grinned. “You should too. Busy day tomorrow.”

“I don’t have fuck all to do tomorrow. I’m not in the band,” Steve huffed.

“Oh, I just figured you’d wanna be there for the first performance of the new song,” Meg sighed. “But I guess I could give your ticket to a fan or something.”

“Shut up. They’re performing it tomorrow? Before releasing it?” Steve sat up in bed. “Tell me what’s so special. Why are they doing this?”

“I can’t. You should go to sleep.” Meg turned away from him, smiling to herself when she heard Steve muttering under his breath. “Steve. Sleep.”

“Meg. Awake.” Steve reached over and turned the lamp on. “Does Robin know?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Sworn to secrecy.”

“But that doesn’t count with me!” Steve looked like he was one second away from getting out of bed and pacing the floor. “You have to tell me.”

“Steve, if you ruin this for yourself, you’re gonna be very mad. Trust me.”

“He promised he wouldn’t write about the lingerie thing. He promised. If I hear one word about the way the red lace touched my thigh, I’m gonna divorce him,” Steve crossed his arms over his chest.

“Uh huh. Well, it’s not about lingerie. But that’s all I’m saying about it,” Meg double checked her alarm to make sure it was set properly.

“Well now I can’t sleep.”

“You can and you will. Gotta look rested for tomorrow.”

“For what?”

“Eddie.”

Steve took a breath in like he was gonna argue, but decided against it. He laid back down in the bed and groaned.

“Fine. Fine. But you all are on my shit list. I don’t trust any of you.”

“Okay, bud.”

“And I don’t appreciate the attitude.”

“I know.”

“And you’ll never be on the receiving end of my charm ever again.”

“Oh, however will I cope?” Meg snorted. “Go to sleep.”

*****

When Eddie performed the ballad he’d written for Steve the next night, followed by a proposal on stage, Steve gave one look at Meg before crying through his yes.

Meg had Robin on Facetime, both of them crying while watching everything.

“God, he’s insufferable. They’ll be so happy together,” Meg said.

“Hey! Watch it. That’s my soulmate,” Robin said between sobs.

“I woke up in soaked sheets from his sweat. I deserve to complain a little,” Meg sniffed. “And at least tonight he gets his own room with Eddie.”

“You act like it was torture.”

“I’d just much rather be sharing a bed with you, Robbie. You land at ten in the morning, right?” Meg walked away from the side of the stage so she could hear her better as the band started playing their final song.

“Yes and I promise to cuddle in bed with you and not sweat,” Robin said. “Except a little maybe. You do owe me for three missed nights.”

“Oh, baby. We’ll have to change the sheets before we even go to sleep when I’m done with you.”

[cq-studios]

🪐 and/or 🏜️ for the writers ask game!

(For this)

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

Well, the other day, I finally got prescribed some anxiety medication. I’m a little worried about it ruining my chances of actually getting diagnosed with anxiety or becoming too dependent on it, and my anxiety being worse without it (yes, the irony of being anxious about anxiety medication is not lost on me lol), but I know it’s probably for the best, and it‘ll at least help with managing some symptoms for the time being.

I’ve also been lucky and able to spend quite a bit of time with few of my close friends recently. One of them has been working on a fursuit at my place (he stores his stuff in my room since there’s not enough space in his apartment, and my room is basically just storage space for me anyways lol), so I’ve been helping him out with that, and it’s been a lot of fun. He and I have also been doing a ton of LPS stuff which has been a blast too. We cleaned my collection and cataloged it on a collectors website where you can keep track. And the other started working with me again (though it’s only temporary to train the new reception) and I’ve been able to hang out with her too once both our shifts are over. We’ve been editing together clip compilations of the all the fandubs we’ve done over the years among other things (we can talk forever her and I lol).

And for a third thing, I’ve been really enjoying Arcane season 2. God, that show is so good. The writing is excellent. And the animation. Dude, don’t even get me started. It’s stunning. Like I cannot even articulate, it’s just so, whoa. So good, really excited for the next three episodes (and honestly really happy about the staggered release too. Like yes, force people to wait and discuss and theorize instead of dropping it all at once and letting people binge. The wait is honestly part of the fun in my opinion. Helps to build community, keeps us all at the same place and waiting for what’s next together, the hype alive for longer than a week or so, and gives you something to look forward to. All of which are things I feel are very important for all sorts of stories ^^)

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Honestly, just any comment. I love to hear people’s reactions to things. I love when they point out things I didn’t even realize when I wrote it. It’s so rewarding to just know that people are actually reading and interested.

I will say though, if I’m allowed to include more than just my fics, the tags I got/get on the Brain quiz are incredible. Like hearing everyone’s anguish because of a quiz I made at 4AM a based off of a dream I had is so amusing (and rewarding) to me. Maybe it’s just ‘cause I made it, but like these tags make me laugh so hard

(Seriously though, thank you to everyone who commented on that, I look through it sometimes when I’m feeling down and it almost always helps me feel a bit better)

[yeowangies]

Blood Stains

CHAPTER VII: Nodus Tollens

❧

PAIRING: Raditz/Reader RATING: Mature CONTENTS: Canon Divergence AU, Slow burn, Smut, Enemies to Lovers. WARNINGS: Implied sexual content. WORDCOUNT: 2411

Summary:

The more time he spends in that small, cozy apartment of yours, the more he feels as if he had been transported to another planet where it’s only the two of you.

Notes:

I was too tired to upload this here yesterday, but on ao3 it was uploaded yesterday!

Chapters get longer after this one, thank you!

You can check the tag #*bs if you wanna see the previous chapters.

The sunlight wakes you up the next morning, but you’re not sure it’s exactly morning. It’s probably closer to midday than it is to morning. 

The soreness in between your legs is the first thing you feel. Raditz is bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, so you knew it would bother you as much. Especially after he had taken you three more times last night until you couldn’t utter a single word. 

While you were positive that this is just a one time situation (or four times situation), that he was going to just take it and leave, Raditz is sleeping peacefully right beside you. He’s snoring quietly with an arm under his head, and the other one pressed to your side. He looks so boyish and young, though you’re not sure how old he even is, but his usual stern look makes him seem much older than what he looks like now. You blink a couple of times, getting used to the light in the room and taking the opportunity to look at his handsome face before you stretch your legs. 

The moment you move to get up, he wakes up. And it’s hell when you have to make breakfast for the both of you, partially because you have to make a shit ton of food because he obviously eats like crazy, but your legs are much wobblier than you expected. But Raditz just seems pleased with himself, looking at you with knowing eyes and a smirk. 

You don’t complain at all, not even when you’re done cleaning the dishes and he simply picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. 

That’s how you find out Saiyans have a lot of stamina and not just for fighting.

*

It had been a naive assumption on Raditz’s part to think that lying with you a couple of times would suffice him. He lost count of how many times he had taken you on the second day, but what still surprises him is how willing you are every time. He knows you’re sore, and he does take it slow at first, trying to hold back and not hurt you, but you simply beg him for more every time. He was half joking when he implied you were into being hurt, but apparently it’s true. At the very least, you like it rough, which just spurs him on even more. 

Maybe you’re more Saiyan like than he expected. Raditz has initiated most of the sex obviously, but it’s not like you haven’t crawled all over him a couple of times, and it has thrilled him to no end to see you smize and kiss him so passionately. And that cuddling thing… that isn’t so bad. Maybe everything you said about the hormones is true, he does feel warm whenever you curl up next to him.

Sleeping on a bed for a change is more comfortable than sleeping on the ground in the middle of nowhere. He likes the wild, and he likes feeling the grass underneath him. But a comfy, warm bed is better than what he remembered. You probably have a lot to do with that. Sometimes he would feel you move in your sleep, or mumble something very quietly, and he’d wake up, startled, ready to punch someone, until he notices that it’s just you, sleeping peacefully next to him. Sometimes he can’t sleep afterwards, so he simply watches you until he dozes off. Sharing a bed is also new, something he hadn't done with anyone before, and while it triggers his hypervigilance the first few nights, it’s also pleasant when he realizes that you have your guard down when you sleep by his side. 

“So you are telling me kissing isn’t something most species out there do?” You ask with a mouthful of pizza.

You have ordered pizza again that time, and Raditz couldn’t believe how much he likes it. He devours one slice after another while you watch him, obviously amused, as the two of you eat in bed. 

“Not all species have lips and mouths like we do.” Raditz replies after swallowing.

“Oh. What do they have?”

“Sometimes nothing, sometimes a trunk.”

“How do they eat?”

“Not all of them ‘eat’.”

“Oh…”

He looks at your confused face and chuckles. 

“Some species only drink water. Others really do not eat at all, and take energy from the sun or the moon.”

“That’s fascinating. I wish I could see all that.”

Raditz has a mouthful again and he freezes momentarily to glance at you when you say those words. You’re still eating calmly, not looking at him, and he’s glad, or else you’ll notice the look on his face.

None of those species exist anymore. 

Most of the ones he’s encountered have been wiped out, or pushed to the edge of extinction, with only very few survivors. And the responsibility of most that has been his. Not only his, obviously, but it’s a minor detail in the grand scheme of things. 

It’s not that he feels guilty, but he would have to burst your bubble if you inquire. For what he recalls you saying, you probably aren’t too much into genocides. It would affect your current arrangement, and he doesn’t want that. 

“This planet must be really boring for you, then.” You add after you eat a slice. “I mean, you probably see diamonds rain in other places, or something, right?” 

Raditz has already finished all the pizzas you bought for him, there’s only half of one you had claimed, and while he knows you won’t eat it all, he won’t take it. He doesn’t answer your question right away, and when you look at him with big wide eyes, he sneaks a hand up your thigh and under your robe. 

“So far, this is one of the most interesting planets I’ve been to.” He smirks, leaning closer to you. 

“I should have known you’d say that. You’re more human the more I get to know you.”

He’s leaning closer to your neck to plant a kiss there until the words coming out of your mouth make him pull back.

“What?”

“What I said. You’re as single minded as any man here.”

Anger invades him in a second until he notices you’re joking; you’re trying hard not to smile (and failing miserably), and your eyes are fixed on him like expecting a reaction. 

“I said I do not intend to harm you, but you do realize I can still kill you, don’t you?” Raditz huffs before replying, and grins as frisky as he can. He’s not really threatening you, but since you jabbed him like that with your words, he has to counterattack. 

“For your information, even a tiny spider could kill me,” You retort with an obvious playful tone now. “So you’re not so special, Raditz.”

He looks at you with open eyes. He likes you enough to not hurt you, but you have some balls to say that to him, even when he knows you’re just playing and he’s going along with it. 

“A spider, whatever that is, can’t destroy the planet in a matter of seconds.”

“Maybe a dedicated spider could.” You turn up your nose in fake contempt, making him chuckle. 

Maybe he’s a little (or a lot) turned on by this attitude of yours. 

Raditz grabs your ankle this time, yanking it lightly and making you fall flat on the mattress with a yelp as he crawls over you. 

“Wait! Your hands are dirty, don’t touch me!”

“What? My hands?!”

“Yeah. Pizza is good and all, but it’s also really greasy, so go wash them…” You sit up as he pulls back. You’re obviously serious now, but he stares at his hands with curiosity. “Actually… you showered the day before yesterday, right?”

“Yes…”

“I guess it’s time for a shower.”

“You humans bathe way too often.”

“Nah-ah, you don’t shower enough. Especially since you’re sleeping on my bed.” Raditz groans when you start pushing him off, and he moves away slowly. “Come on. Use my shampoo.”

“I don’t even want to shower, and I have to wash my hair too?”

You open your mouth to speak before closing it to smile mischievously. 

“Maybe we can shower together.”

“What’s the point of that?” Raditz looks at you, confused. 

“Well, for once, I’m going to be wet and naked, and-”

“Let’s go.”

He definitely likes your attitude.

The more time he spends in that small, cozy apartment of yours, the more he feels as if he had been transported to another planet where it’s only the two of you. You still have to work, you explain it to him (and it’s not like the concept of a job is so foreign, technically he has a job too), and he’s left alone at your place for some time that he uses for either eating or sleeping. But it doesn’t matter, you come back and you’re still happy to just see him, and it’s an inexplicable warmth he feels every time you smile when you walk into your place and see him there. 

Neither of you talk about anything substantial, and that just makes him feel more at ease. While Raditz knows you can’t really harm, he’s used to being on guard every time, even around his own ‘comrades’. He’s not when you’re being intimate, but the rest of the day, he’s careful about the words he’s using. 

What literally and figuratively wakes him up one night is a nightmare. When he’s sleeping right beside you. He’s panting, chest heaving and muscles tense as he sits up abruptly; it’s inevitable you’d wake up. 

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” You ask him, sitting up by his side and sliding a hand up his bicep. 

Raditz yanks his arm away from your touch and growls as a response. 

“Did you have a nightmare? It’s alright, you can tell me-”

“Why would I tell you anything?” He spits with contempt as he runs a hand up his hair in exasperation. 

This is humiliating. He has these kinds of dreams every once in a while, but he’s always sleeping alone when they happen. Why did it have to happen when he’s literally sharing a bed with someone who’s supposed to be his enemy?

You huff, and Raditz watches you get out of the bed and walk out the room. Maybe it’s time to end whatever this is. It has only been a few days since he’s been staying there, it’d be dangerous if he stays any longer, he’s used to being on guard all the time, but your attitude throws him off so much he doesn’t know if he can stay on the defensive for longer without having another slip. 

When you walk in again, you sit next to him on the bed and offer him a glass of water. 

“It’s only water.” You tell him when he stares at the glass for a long time. 

Raditz takes it and drinks it in one gulp before returning the glass to you. You settle closer, and when you slide your hand up his arm again, he doesn’t pull away. 

“You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to. I get nightmares too, you know.”

Despite his better judgment, he turns to gaze at you. He doesn’t find pity or mockery in your expression, but something else he can’t distinguish. He shouldn’t have looked at you, however. He wants to kiss you and forget about the things he’d seen when he was dreaming. So far, sex has been a good way to make him forget unpleasant moments, even if only temporarily. 

Raditz doesn’t move, however. He stares at you for a while until you lean in to put your head on his shoulder. 

“Feel better?” You ask, squeezing his arm. When he grunts in response, not really a yes but not a no either, you tug at his arm, lying down on the bed and trying to make him lay with you. 

His first thought is that he shouldn’t. This could be a terrible slip, letting you see him so weak. Sirens go off in his head, the same ones that made him so guarded growing up, but he doesn’t feel threatened when he looks at you. 

So Raditz does lay down, letting you put his arm around your waist. And he can’t help, when you snuggle closer, but pull you closer and press his lips to yours without thinking. You respond just as eagerly, sliding your hand up his jaw and caressing his cheek with your thumb. 

When he shifts to get on top of you, you move your hand to his shoulder, softly pushing and making him stop. He pulls away to look at you, ready to slide off, thinking that maybe this isn’t what you want right now, but you’re smiling, pushing more at his shoulder until he’s flat against the mattress. Despite still being tense, Raditz lets you climb on top as you kiss him, running your fingers gently through his hair. He can’t think clearly, even more so now that he’s hard, but your touch is a lot more tender than it usually is, and when you remove your shirt and press your body to his, carefully sliding his cock into your entrance, he just lets himself get lost in your body, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you just as earnestly while you move your hips, riding him steadily. 

That’s the only occasion where Raditz actually takes it slow, following your lead, but when he comes it’s just as intense as it has been all the previous times. It’s like he’s floating afterwards, exchanging lazy kisses while you hold him close, stroking his hair. 

You fall asleep pretty fast when you’re done, curling against him, and while he feels infinitely better than when he woke up, he doesn’t fall asleep right away. 

Raditz has to leave. Again. He is going to be distressed after this, and while he has been like that all his life, he also never had to be careful about hurting anyone. He enjoys your company too much but he might accidentally hurt you; this nightmare had been tamed in comparison to other ones he had before, he might react differently next time. 

And the normalcy with which you treat him is unnerving him, even if he cannot explain why. 

Raditz doesn’t fall asleep afterwards, and leaves before sunrise. 

[thelanor-s-astame]

Episode 1 Behind The Scenes!

Welcome to Amateur Hour! I mean this whole series is amateur hour, but stating out was REALLY amateur hour. So most of the way our videos worked is we would do a weekly video (Either podcast or Over The Shoulder game review). And I’d release a Funny Joke Video every two weeks. I was given Carte Blanch over my videos and basically just kinda did them on my own. So everything I did was suuuper rudimentary My scripts weren’t formated very well, there were tons of spelling errors, stuff I’d cut out I’d leave in the document and just remember I cut it out. But all this worked just fine because I was the only one looking at them.

And the way I’d send people their lines was I would *send* people their lines over discord and have them send me back an audio file that they’d recorded. I didn’t even really do any audio directing aside from a couple of notes. I might have directed Dalsson and TheDragonLover (heretofore referred to as Dergo), but that was it.

For anyone who might want to make a narrative series, uh… don’t do this with your main cast. If you have a guest star who knows what their doing and might not be comfortable being directed in a discord call with a stranger, that’s fine. But for everyone else you’ll just end up playing phone tag for a a couple of VA lines that won’t be nearly as good if you just set the people down in a call and told them what kinda performance you want them to give. A thing that, And I cannot stress this enough, they will be fine with you doing and in fact would much prefer this to the alternative.

And if you sit multiple people down in the call and do their voice lines in one day, that’s just way better! Your actors will be more comfortable with more friends around, and after the session is over, you have multiple scenes worth of voice lines to work with! It’s one of those “We do this thing like this for a reason.” kinda deals.

But ultimately a lot of the What Worked for those videos I’d put out every two weeks, and the video essays, did not really work here. But anyway lets look at the actual video.

The like first scene you can see how the cutting around is really off. That’s because the footage of me just standing there lasted, like, 3 seconds and I had a minute of dialogue, so I HAD to keep cutting if I wanted to use that footage. I should have just started a new save and rerecorded it but… again amateur hour.

But. The first joke here I think is really good. I have a lot of thoughts about it, so I’m going to make it a separate thread. There’s quite a bit going on there and I’m really proud of it.

But the beginning of the video, and the beginning of the series as a whole, is just kinda me moving from bit to bit like I did in the previous Joke Videos. These started out as those with a tiny bit more structure.

The Conversation with Elderbug here is what got Lordfrezon to get a better mic. Like this video convinced the man to get a better microphone. But you’ll notice Elderbugs mouth keeps moving when he’s not taking. I didn’t start putting a still picture over the talking characters yet

The quirrel scene is probably the best put together in the entire video. The editing is sharp. and I realized I could like, just reverse the video of him looking at the Black Egg to make it a little more dynamic.

But most of the dynamic-ness of these scenes comes down to me zooming in and out of characters faces for emphasis. The footage I’m working with is a character with a one second animation loop and another character staring up at them. So I gotta do a lot of cuts and zooms to make it look like a conversation with multiple emotions in it is happening. And I already had a pretty good grasp of that thanks to the joke videos! Say what you will about youtube video editing, but it sure teaches you how powerful quick cutting for emphasis is!

This was also before I started putting Reverb on every scene that takes place in a tunnel… which most of them do, and if there’s one thing I love, love, love playing with, it’s reverb. Sound design is my passion tbh. It is also the only thing I have any formal training in! I was taught it by a bunch of 80s rockers who showed me how to use an old analog soundboard for live mixing! And I’ve always held to the idea that 75% of video editing is sound editing, and 95% of that sound editing is shit no one would notice unless it wasn’t there.

There a little after the Quirrel scene I got *extremely lucky* and found a sign mender. Which is a really rare event. Just immediately out of the gate I see that man. I’d never seen him before I was getting footage for the video and he blessed me with his presence like an angel. Thank you Sign Mender! You gave me a great bit about property destruction!

The Cornifer scene is firstly, a great look into how a voice role evolves over time, and secondly, a great exemplification of what I started this with. Just Direct Your VA’s. You’ll notice how Saine’s performance on his first line here are worse than any of the other ones he’s given. He didn’t know what I wanted. And if I would have simply directed him, that wouldn’t be a problem!

He did, however get to delever the funniest lines of the video. And he did a great job with those! And, another thing to Saine’s credit is he does a fantastic job as Iselda! Man eats up that whole scene! Just great shit there!

Sly’s change is less in that the voice evolved as time went on and more I changed the character. I focused more on the Shopkeeper aspect rather than the teacher aspect as his Central Thing, and ultimately I think that was the best choice. Surly Shopkeeper who can “Show You Da Ropes” Is always a great character and he’s a lot of fun to write. Also all the thing’s Sly says about ‘God’ put me in a bit of a bind because “Okay, so why the hell does this guy know about The Radiance… a thing that a lot of people were lied to about for decades?” So I had to come up with some stuff for that. But that’s the kind of problem I love solving. Because it goes from “Weird plot hole” to “Ooh new character aspect! let’s give this man some depth!

Dergo’s performance as Myla is the best one in the video. And it’s great that’s the case too, because of how much *that* kicks off a lot of the story. But, yeah 10/10 no notes. Dergo is incredibly good at this shit.

The end bit with the snail man is probably my biggest regret of the video. It very much does not fit in with the tone of everything else. It’s kinda something that just happens in the first episode and I hope everyone forgets about. The implication he just murdered the snail guy is funny but it doesn’t fit in the wider whole. Whole scene just is not very good tbh. I also probably should have had someone else voice the Snail man as well.

And I wholeass forgot I used a different font for the credits! But I think that’s that for the first episode. IT’s kind of just a collection of thoughts, but the episode is just kind of a collection of scenes so, there we go!

[talesfromthebacklog]

Tales From The Front Log: Endless Ocean Luminous

5/10

This was a $30-$40 game labelled as a $60 one. It’s fun but after a day or two you’ll find yourself quickly bored. Yikes. I don’t have a lot of nice things to say about this one. I’m not angry at it, but I’m just going to lay it all out as it is.

Endless Ocean suffers from what I consider to be the worst thing that can happen to a game. It’s just… not much to talk about. It’s largely nothing. Good games will be remembered. Bad games will also be remembered. Maybe not made again, but we still talk about trite like Superman 64.

Nothing games? No one talks about. Which is sad because I love games like this, but I don’t see this as a franchise Nintendo will continue to make because no one from the casual sphere will be asking for it after this. (And despite what many folks believe, you need casuals to buy games like this from companies like Nintendo to convince the corpos that they are still worth making).

Let’s talk about this ocean diving game and where it went wrong.

Firstly the story-mode. Hate it. The story itself is very… okay. Nothing special but serviceable. My big problem is the progression. It’s locked behind doing TONS of exploring instead of just letting players enjoy the story at the pace they want to enjoy it! (Probably because players would finish it in a matter of hours and put it down forever because it would have little left to offer. The replay value is nonexistent and there is no incentive to play longer.)

Additionally the only person who ever speaks is your AI computer companion and I could not care less about anything that thing says. It’s dull and lazy. All the divers just flail around. You’re telling me we can have special magic fish which I can suck the light out of to save magic coral, but no communicators so the divers can actually speak to each other? Okay💨.

I’m being harsh here. But when I see a $60 price tag with Nintendo’s name attached I expect more than this. And while I am going to get into the stuff I like it’s hard to ignore to mediocre nature of the game.

For example this game is just… empty. It feels weirdly lifeless despite being heavily populated by fish. Probably because they don’t feel like they’re really there sometimes. You can swim right through nearly all the models. The maps are huge but I actually think this is a disservice because they largely don’t do anything interesting with them. There aren’t many different biomes to visit randomly, you can’t interact with anything other than treasures that just give you nearly meaningless currency. It’s just diet New Pokemon Snap. And Pokemon Snap arguably does the job much better despite being on rails.

And the more I think about it… the more I realize that it really does have a LARGE amount of similarities with New Pokemon Snap in terms of story and function. Even down to the luminescent giant creatures! I would almost say if you want the Endless Ocean: Luminous experience of wandering around looking at stuff you should just go play that. The environments are prettier, Pokemon react to your presence, Pokemon react to each other, you interact with environment, you get items, and you get tons of unique biomes. Or just play the original Endless Ocean games because they’re way better.

In Endless Ocean: Luminous you’re just kinda dropped off in a big blue pool. The water even looks kinda hazy when you’re in it. There’s no weather, no sunsets, no beautiful ocean moonlit nights. Just… big blue planes of nothing. And there are fun places to explore sometimes. Like ruins, old ships, some caves, and the depths. This is in the minority though.

In majority there’s big flat sand planes of fucking blue nothing. With rocks. And you’ll spend more time there than you will anywhere else. Especially in multiplayer.

That’s all you really do in Endless Ocean: Luminous. You wander around and look at shit. Which I like games like this in theory. Outer Wilds and Paradise Killer are also “look around” games. But they also have compelling narratives and gimmicks to keep players hooked. And I’m not arguing it’s not fun to poke around in Endless Ocean: Luminous. I did have a fun time swimming around. I’m just also saying you’ll get bored quick.

This extends to the multiplayer. Which boils down to who can wander around and look at everything the fastest. That’s it. You’re given emotes but players rarely interact with each other and are given basically no incentive to. I guess you can join the mode to feel less lonely. It’ll get you through the story mode quicker than working on your own.

I just… additionally one of the big selling points was you could be with up to 30 people in a room but this isn’t quite true. It’s up to 10 random people. The other TWENTY you need to have friends or join a stream. And practically NO ONE was streaming this on Twitch ON LAUNCH. The amount was painfully low for a Nintendo IP. I wasn’t expecting Mario numbers but it was kinda pathetic. 🤷‍♀️ I was genuinely disappointed. The large amount of players in one room sounded fun.

But at the same time 10 players on one map can actually be too much at times and leave little for players to do as you witch hunt for the one fish that hasn’t been scanned. A weird conundrum.

So… what did I like about this game??? I did mention I would talk about stuff I liked.

The variety of fish was good. I like that all the fish got factoid excerpts that could be read aloud. Though I’m irked I can’t play the verbal explanation and look around at the same time. While the game is very basic it’s still fun to poke around and look at stuff! There is interesting stuff to look at. I appreciate the fantasy elements.

I like the idea of the fish bosses you have to lure out. Though I wish luring them out required learning about the fish and using something special for that fish to get them to reveal themselves. They want it to be a big grand event but it’s really not.

The fish models actually look really good and detailed. If you know your ocean life you can properly identify the fish for what they are. As someone who loves ocean life this actually matters to me quite a bit. Weirdly enough I’m disappointed the plant/coral life was lacking. It would’ve been a good way to add to the catalogue. Might just be a me thing but ocean plants are as equally interesting as the fish.

I appreciate that there’s no combat. As I don’t have a strong spine for ocean horror. (I have to play Subnautica with creature aggression turned completely off.).

Fish companions. Great choice. Being able to unlock bigger fish friends over time and respecting their dive capacity was also a great choice. My favorite ended up being the starfish since they could just attach to your tank. Too cute. (Though… we needed urchins in the game too. Just saying…)

Actually. This leads me to another real niche nitpick. We can have fantasy fish but the all the plants outside of the World Coral are BLAND normal ass plants??!?

*Flips table*

MORE PLANTS and CORAL GOD DAMMIT. I WANT TO LOOK AT PRETTY PLANTS WITH MY PRETTY FISH. It’s not a lot to ask! I want Subnautica level plant decoration even if it’s on a budget. Barbie Ocean Discovery has more COLOR in the background for Christ’s sake.

*Ahem*. Sorry. Ocean stuff is a hyper fixation, but I promise I’m not actually mad. Ha ha. Can you imagine?

The customizable avatar and emotes is… cute. Really. I swear. But you likely won’t last long enough to unlock anything truly complex before moving on.

The idea of events is cute, but don’t mean much. It’s largely just increased rates for rare creatures to appear. Eh.

In short Endless Ocean: Luminous is a fairly empty game with a LOT of padding for $60. You can tell they wanted a cozy game that players would play for longer than a few days, but you likely won’t. I’m not going to argue it’s valueless to pick up. I’m just going to say that you deserve to not buy it at the price Nintendo wanted us to buy it at.

Buy it on sale and just accept it for what it is.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Summer Of '87" [Chapter 9]

Chapter 8

Chapter 10

Heyyyy, she's a little faster this time!

I'm working to put out chapters guys, I really am. I just want them to be quality. i hope you stick with me and share with your followers!

This does get a little spicy, so caution when you read! <3

Tag List:

@gingertimelord

@witchwolflea

@loliakeoghan23

@fancytragedything

@eg-dr3amer3

@wanniiieeee

------------

You were pacing back and forth in your room while muttering to yourself how stupid you were when there was a knock on the door. 

“Eddie I just need a minute, okay--” 

“It’s not Eddie,” Dustin’s voice came through the door. 

You immediately ran over and swung the door open to reveal Dustin standing there with a neutral look on his face.

“Hey..” you hesitantly greeted him while looking both ways down your hall to see if he was alone. 

“Eddie said we should talk. Alone,” Dustin said when he realized what you were doing. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed rather loudly, making an embarrassed face. “Sure, come on in.”

Dustin walked in and admired your room for a moment before speaking. 

“Wow, this room is probably half the size of my whole house,” he spoke quietly. “Must’ve been nice growing up here.”

“Eh,” you shrugged, causing a laugh from him.

“Oh yeah I’m sure it was so hard, with your huge room and pool,” he rolled his eyes, but didn’t speak as harshly as he had been.

“Pools aren’t everything, Dustin,” you said simply. “My parents were barely around since I can even remember. Dad always with his ‘business meetings’ across the country and mom drinking herself into a coma over them….” 

“Because of me,” Dustin thought out loud.

“No!” You assured him as you took both of his hands. “No. My mother never knew about you, I promise. But-- your mom wasn’t the first, and she wasn’t the last.” 

“So we’ve got a ton of siblings then?” he raised an eyebrow. 

“God I hope not,” you half laughed. “All I’ve found is you. I think he was extra careful after that. And before. You were just--”

“A fluke.” he sighed as he sat on your bed. “An accident. A bastard,” 

“NO,” you sat on the bed with him. “No. You, Dustin Henderson, are no fluke.”

“You don’t even know me,” he looked at you sadly. “How do you know that?”

“Eddie told me,” you smiled. “He told me everything you did to save WIll, and fight the Demogorgan, Mind Flayer, and Vecna. That’s pretty bad ass, if you ask me. And just think where your friends would be if you didn’t exist,”

“I mean, I’m sure they would’ve handled it--”

“But Eddie wouldn’t be alive.” You reminded him with a nudge. “You saved him, Dustin. You’re his hero. 

“No way,” he chuckled with his toothy grin. “He’s my hero.”

“Hey,  there’s no rules that say you can’t be each other’s heroes,” you told him with a nudge. 

“But, Steve and the others really saved him. I couldn’t carry him outta there,” 

“Hey, don’t discredit yourself. Eddie told me he fought like hell to stay alive. For you. Not for anyone else in your little friend group.”

“R-Really?” he seemed very taken aback by that as tears lined his eyes. 

“Of course!” you playfully shoved him. “If anyone’s worth living for, it’s my little brother.” 

You stopped suddenly after the words escaped your lips. You hadn’t meant to just jump the shark like that, and this was going so well. You inhaled sharply as you waited for Dustin to get angry again. But to your surprise, he didn’t. He actually smiled. 

“Yeah,” he nodded his head with a soft voice. 

“So, does this mean you accept--?”

“I don’t wanna say I accept anything,” he clarified. “I don’t wanna meet this guy, or--”

“You don’t have to.” you shook your head. “I promise you that. You never have to meet him.”

“Well,” he bit his lip. “Okay. Sissy,” 

“Sissy,” you smiled. “I like that,” 

“Y’know--” he sighed. “I wasn’t mad that you and Eddie were, y’know…”

“We’re NOT doing--” 

“That’s why i’m mad,” he interjected. “I just want you guys to be honest with me. That’s all.”

“Alright,” you cleared your throat. “Honestly? We do like each other. A lot. But I swear to you Dustin we both said from the beginning that we wouldn’t…’be’ anything until you were okay with it. And the kiss-- it was a mistake,” 

“So you don’t wanna be with him now?”

“No! You waved your hands. “No, I definitely do. I just mean, we should’ve stuck to our promise about not doing ANYTHING without your consent. It was a moment of weakness. I swear. We haven’t done anything else.” 

Okay so you left out the one other time, but that wasn’t a big deal, right?

“...I consent,” he said with a laugh. “I mean, I don’t care if you’re together. Although it’s kinda hard to think of my brother and my sister dating,” 

“Ew,” you made a face. “Dustin! Not like that,” 

“I know, I know.” he pat your shoulder. “I’m just razzing you sissy,”

“Alright goober,” You shook your head. “Let’s head back down before they think we killed each other.”

-------------------

After you two were finished talking, you made your way to the TV room to find El and Max asleep on the big comfy couches. Then you headed back downstairs to the living room. Everyone had passed out in front of the TV while NEVERENDING STORY played. Eddie was in the kitchen nervously sipping coffee, waiting for your talk to be over.

“You should get some sleep,” you told Dustin as you waved to Eddie. 

“I’m not even--” he yawned. “Tired,”

“Hey, as your newly appointed sissy, I say you need to go to bed.” you ruffled his hair. Surprisingly, he let you. 

“But I hate sleeping on the floor,” he pouted. 

“Tell you what,” you lead him back to the kitchen where the stairs were. “You can take one of the guest rooms upstairs. A bed and bathroom to yourself.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. We’ll call it your room.” you winked. 

“My room?” he asked in astonishment. “But what if--”

“I told you Dust,” you now used a nickname. “They’re never here. And it’s not like we’ll spend tons of time here. But, at least for the summer, you can stay here all you want. Cool?”

“Cool!” he grinned as he ran over and hugged you. “Thanks, sissy,” 

“No problem bro,” you giggled. Dustin said good night to Eddie and then ran upstairs to find the biggest room he could claim. 

“So,” You now focused your attention on Eddie as you sat in his lap. 

“Oooh,” Eddie smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “I take it the talk went well?” 

“It did,” you nodded with a sly smile. “He gave us the green light,” 

“He DID?” Eddie’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yes,” you giggled. “He said he just wanted us to be honest with him about it,”

“I mean--” he chuckled. “Does that mean we have to go tell him I’m about to ravish you?” 

“Eddie!!” you hit him. “You’re not ‘ravishing’ anything tonight. Not with the whole Scooby gang in the house,” 

“Scooby gang?” he laughed. “And why not?!” 

“Because horn dog,” you pushed a finger to his chest. “You can wait one more night.”

“I might not,” he put a hand over his heart. “I might die of anticipation,” 

“Hey--” you swung your other leg around his waist so you were straddling him. “Anticipation makes if more fun…” 

You had lowered your voice and stroked his hair behind his ear with a devilish smirk. You instantly felt a bulge in his pants, making you giggle. 

“So,” he gulped. 

“So--” you stood up. “That doesn’t mean we can’t-- ease the tension a little bit,” you bit your lip with a smirk, trying not to stare at his hard on through his jeans. 

“R-Realy?” he gulped harder.

“Really,” you walked up to him, inches from his face. “Boyfriend,” 

 “Boyfriend,” Eddie repeated with stars in his eyes. “Y’know…I’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend before.”

“Seriously?” you had to laugh but stopped quickly when you saw the sad look on his face. 

“Oh. Well, there’s a first time for everything.” you smiled before pulling him into a long, luxurious kiss. One you both could enjoy free of guilt or anxiety. 

“Mmm,” he pulled back just a tad. “Let’s go work that tension out girlfriend,” 

He resumed kissing you as he carried you upstairs, you both suppressing moans and giggles all the way to your room. 

-------------

As soon as the door shut behind you, Eddie had you on your bed laid backwards, climbing on top of you while his lips never left yours. 

“Eddie--” you took a breath. “I said no--” 

“I know, I know,” he nodded as he backed off. “I’m sorry, I just--” 

“Excited?” you smiled as you wiped your lipstick from his face. 

“Yeah,” he blushed. 

You couldn’t blame him. You had been wet since the moment you sat on his lap, and you were currently trying not to stare at the stain you’d left. But your eyes betrayed you, as Eddie noticed and glanced down, his own smirk crawling across his mouth. 

“Looks like someone else is too,” he smirked.

“Hey!!” you swatted at him as your face turned bright red. “I can’t help it,”

“Mmm, yeah?” He smirked while pushing you back on your pillows. “Then why hold back, princess?” 

“Mmm….” you were trying desperately to remember why you were holding back, your mind was too clouded with lust. 

“C’mon sweetheart, I promise not to be too loud,”

“I can’t echo that statement Eddie,”

“Ooooh, a screamer are we?” he giggled as he ran his fingers up your arms, causing you to shiver. 

“Yeah…” you sighed happily, already in a daze. 

“I can handle that,” he licked his lips as he slightly grinded against you. 

“No!” you suddenly grabbed a moment of sanity, remembering Dustin. “No, we can’t…not tonight, Eddie,” 

“....Okay, baby.” he nodded, backing off immediately. 

You smiled to yourself seeing how chivalrous he was. He kissed your forehead and got up to go to the bathroom. 

“Where are you going?” you asked with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I gotta get rid of this hard on before I can sleep somehow, Princess,” he stuck his tongue out before heading into the bathroom.

“Oh my god,” you shook your head and put your hands on your face as you laid back with giggles.

----------------------

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[agena87]

.@adelarsims asked me about the relationship dynamic between my four boys. And well, I don’t think I ever really explained it. Not in too many words, at least, so here we are (or maybe I did, but I can’t remember, and if I did, it’s probably divided among tons of posts, most stuff in tags, so…). It’s not easy to explain as a whole, so I’ll divide this post by writing about each duo. Also, I’ll probably go into tangents, as I’m wont to do (the joy of autism). I’ll go by alphabetical order, because… well, because I love alphabetical order.

(I'll put everything under a cut, 'cause it's kinda long - and rambling)

But first, a quick-ish reminder of who’s with whom, and how they came to get together:

Al, Mal, and Wolfie are one polycule, each of them being in a relationship with the other two. Jeb is only with Wolfie. All parties are aware and willing, there is no adultery involved; they communicate. With words. I know, it’s surprising given the people involved.

Officially, Jeb and Wolfie were the first to get together when Wolfie went to Windenburg and met Jeb in Evergreen, after he stopped there instead of going to the capital city like he initially planned. But, despite Wolfie calling it a “no-string attached fling between friends”, he was with Mal first (after an ill-advised one-night stand with Al which is the root of said fling with Mal, and his departure for Windenburg); that’s when Mal realized that he was in love with not only Al (as was Wolfie), but with Wolfie too. What a mess! So, Jeb and Wolfie were happy together when Al contacted him to invite him to his wedding to Kiyoshi. Both went to Henford for the occasion, Wolfie apprehensive to see the person he used to be in love with, but relieved to know that he wouldn’t see Mal, who wouldn’t be there, as his daughter was bound to be born around the same date as the wedding. Of course, things didn’t turn out as expected, and Al got nearly murdered by his jealous fiancé (who saw Wolfie among the guests and immediately flipped) and ended up in a coma. So, Wolfie and Jeb stayed in Henford for longer than planned, with Wolfie spending most of his time in the hospital, Jeb by his side. That’s where he was reunited with Mal. Jeb, who has always been a very perceptive person, saw immediately that there was some unresolved tension between the two friends, and understood that Wolfie wouldn’t come back to Windenburg, even if he would convince himself that it was to help Al during his recovery, and not because he was harbouring some deep feelings for Mal. So Jeb just told him to stay in Henford, and not deprive himself of being happy with Mal. Of course, Wolfie tried to do just that, but after a few weeks, and several calls to Jeb, he and Mal got back together (now with the addition of a little baby girl, Joy). Wolfie and Jeb never stopped being friends, and not once Jeb show any jealousy or bitterness regarding his ex-boyfriend’s relationship (he really was glad that Wolfie found happiness with Mal; that’s how good a man, Jeb is). Fast-forward a couple years, and Jeb is about to publish his first novel, and he asks Wolfie to design the cover. They met in Wolfie’s studio some time later, for Wolfie to show what he had done, and… they kissed. Of course, Wolfie was a mess and immediately confessed to Mal. So, Wolfie got back with Jeb too. It's not until a few more years have passed that Al joined the polycule. It took multiple confessions on both Wolfie and Mal's sides to get to him (he did love them then, but he was scared, which is quite understandable after what happened with his former relationship). It was Wolfie who first managed to get through to him, and while Mal was a bit down that Al was apparently still not interested in him, he accepted that Wolfie started a relationship with Al; after a few days, Al went to Mal, asking why he was so distant with him, weren't they supposed to be together now? Apparently, Mal missed the memo that Al wanted/loved both him and Wolfie (what an idiot!). And now, everyone is in a happy relationship with the person(s) they love.

Al + Jeb: Despite Al being the latest to officially join the little family, he’s the one after Wolfie (of course) that Jeb is the closest with. Since both of them have a traumatic past (Al, being the victim of domestic violence and attempted murder; Jeb… maybe I’ll talk about it some other time), they understand each other rather well, while Mal and Wolfie can only empathize to a certain degree. When Al has one of his worst days, Jeb is usually the one who gets him to talk, though he never forces him to. They are good friends with a few common interests, especially botany, and spend most of their time together taking care of plants; they also dance together from time to time.

Al + Mal: Mal is very protective of Al (he is with Wolfie too, but not to the same level). He also tends to let Al do whatever he wants, and can’t refuse him anything (even if he knows that it’s bad for Al: like telling him where Wolfie hid the alcohol). Though very loving, their relationship tends to revolve a lot around physicality, especially sex, more than anything.

Al + Wolfie: Wolfie’s the one who managed to get Al to finally accept that yes, people can love him and not want to hurt him, and yes, Wolfie and Mal are such people. Wolfie has always been Al’s best friend (other than Tabitha – just like Al is Wolfie's best friend as much as Morgan is), and they share a very special bond, partially due to their shared experience as non-binary people. After Al broke their friendship (or tried to, as only communication was really broken; both were still thinking of each other as best friends) back in Uni, and Wolfie left the country for Windenburg, most would have thought that they wouldn’t be able to have the same relationship, would they ever be reunited, but on the contrary, when Wolfie came back (and after Al emerged from his coma) they immediately went back to being joined at the hip, despite Al trying to isolate himself. Their relationship with each other is one of absolute trust and tenderness, but also a lot of (misplaced) guilt on Wolfie’s part, who feels that it’s his fault if Al was abused for years, since he was who rejected Al when they were fifteen, claiming that he wasn’t queer (he was still in denial of who he was at the time), allowing Kiyoshi to get to Al. Of course, Al keeps repeating to him that he is not to blame, and, little by little, Wolfie’s starting to believe him.

Jeb + Mal: They are polar opposites, and if not for Wolfie, they would never interact. It’s not that they don’t like or respect each other, it’s just that they have nothing in common. Plus, Jeb is very ill-at-ease with Mal’s chosen career as an OnlySims model and general attitude regarding nudity and provocative apparel (some might say that to some level, Al and Wolfie are worse than him when it comes to showing some skin, but somehow, it doesn’t seem as provocative/sexually-charged as when it’s Mal, so it doesn’t irk him as much), given his own repulsion toward anything sexual.

Jeb + Wolfie: Puppy love! Those two are the cutest when together, probably because their love is more intellectual than anything, with nothing more physical than cuddles, hugs, and a few chaste kisses here and there. For Wolfie, Jeb is a breath of fresh air; the lover that doesn’t expect anything physical from him (not that Mal or Al would ever ask him to do anything he doesn’t want; it’s just that sex is not a priority for him in a relationship).

Mal + Wolfie: Mal and Wolfie never imagined they would ever be together; they always thought they'd be great friends, and if one of them was lucky enough, he would end up with Al. But it seems that Fate has other plans for those two. And those plans involved a little girl that Wolfie helped raise from birth and involuntarily caused her father to propose to her Vatti. Yes, Mal and Wolfie are engaged to be married. And yes, both Jeb and Al are OK with that (weeeeell, Al has a debilitating phobia of anything wedding-related, so he's not really OK with the wedding part, but he's OK with them being married, if that makes sense?). The proposal (and answer) was kinda spur of the moment, but they talked about it with Jeb (they weren't with Al yet when it happened) later, telling him that if he was opposed to it, they would not do it, but of course, Jeb was OK with it, especially after Mal explained to him what prompted him to ask in the first place. Mal and Wolfie relationship is one of devotion and absolute adoration, which verges on worship on Mal's side. Mal is also the only person who Wolfie accepts (and believes) compliments from (not even Mila can claim that) for some reason.

So. Yeah, here it is, my rambling sorta explanation of the relationship between my boys. Not sure that I make much sense, but I'm still suffering from debilitating pain from facial neuralgia, so my brain is a mess (even more than ordinary). Anyway, I'm happy to answer any questions, if you have any.