#sorry for the ramble in tags i love that i made this for myself too much hehe

[horsemeatluvr23]

the juppet !! i just realised he is jerma posing i swear that was unintentional...... i spent so long digging thru muppet concept art and looking at old puppet designs just to end up doing a rly simple drawing but. i love joehills!! i have only been watching them for like 4 years but their videos r so special to me :3

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[francicide]

　—　a dead mans gun speaks far more words than him ❞

〔⠀💥⠀〕⠀MACTHING SHIPPAMOR !

pt: The Thing. end pt A shippamor term where one's attraction is best described by how RJ Macready feels about The Thing , and vice versa . Intended in a romantic sense for personal reasons , but other forms are okay as well .

Too tired to make ID

@smilepilled, @radiomogai, ask to be added or removed .

[rxttenfish]

Asking because I’m extremely curious about this, how did MonProm’s writing get different over time? I remember you saying that the lore and characters feel different, and that it's missing sincere character interactions, too. I know almost nothing about the lore and I’ve only seen a few people mention the characters, so I’d be interested in a rundown of what aspects you think got worse in the series

I wouldn’t mind a very long response since I’m not that active in the fandom, I need to catch up on what happened

sorry for taking so long to answer this! i kinda waffled on it for a long bit, mainly because i started doubting myself again, and whether or not this was me simply overreacting or being tinted by nostalgia or simply being extremely picky and choosy in what i like (the last of which is true, i seldom get into fandoms at all for this reason and stay away from most popular media, but i wasn't sure if it applied here). i've posted about it already, but i'm in the middle of a psychotic episode where i can't feel a lot of pleasure to begin with + most things i do experience ending up solidly in the "very bad" category, so as you can imagine, i really didn't want to mislead and check that i was actually in objective reality.

as it is, this is also when a lot more screenshots started to be posted in the monster prom tag, and that helped me bridge the gap back into returning to the games themselves and feel like i was making a more accurate judgement. if you're one of those people who have been posting screenshots, i sincerely thank you, and i appreciated seeing you in the tag greatly.

for those not in the know — i've been in the monster prom fandom since it first released, prior to even the first additional ending to be added (the "Punch the sun" ending, and i recall the minor fandom drama that happened at that time due to it). my impression of monster prom is very much influenced by this, as what got me into the first game was the fact that the characters genuinely seemed to care for each other and were friends with each other (not merely tolerating each other's presences nor dressing it up, they sincerely thought of each other as friends and were open about that fact), on top of the wide variety of small details and statements that, if taken at face value, could create compounding complexity in the lives of each and every character and had wider implications for their lives.

no, they were not necessarily explored nor even necessarily "real", with so many conflicting events and statements, but i liked this too, because it meant a wider flexibility in what you could imagine, helping to create a more tailored experience for everyone who thought about these characters. this was what i liked about the early fandom too. what was baseline "canon" was so vague and minimal that you could have wildly different interpretations of the same characters' histories and relationships with each other. you would have radically different perspectives on what the world itself looked like, what it was like, that there wasn't really any wrong answers so long as their personalities remained the same. this is where you got the old headcanon of polly and liam being childhood friends who knew each other as humans, or that the world of monster prom was post-apocalypse where humanity itself had gone extinct or only existed in tiny pockets, or my personal headcanon that both monster and human society existed right next to each other and had minimal crossover for petty cultural reasons. this was also prior zoe-as-ro, and there were wildly different interpretations of zoe's personality, with most going for a far more disquieting creepy-cute than the deep nerd we got.

this is why you get stuff like the timeloop theory, where everyone is repeating the same weeks leading up to prom over and over, and are perhaps vaguely aware of it but broadly unconcerned. this is also why it felt like the joke that, the characters were still in high school but were all fully legal adults with most in their 20's, best landed, because it was absurd and strange and didn't quite make sense, but the world itself was inherently absurd and semi-malleable to begin with. realistically, i felt like everyone understood it was making fun of the trope of having adults play teenagers in american sitcoms and wildly casting outside the age range, but for more in-universe explanations it wasn't any different from the way that you would have a large, dramatic ending in which everything changed, but then you'd restart and everyone would be right back at the beginning with nothing different, or even having conflicting events in the same run. it was a dream-logic that fit with the tropes and, thus, diagetically made sense.

to be clear, i don't mind canon having a set, well, canon on which it refers back to itself. i don't mind expanding that or including more things which are set in stone. but there was a perceivable shift in how the games handled this over time, becoming a lot more... bitter, it felt, towards all of these different branching ideas and concepts that, yeah, the people making them knew wouldn't necessarily be "canon" because "canon" already liked to contradict itself so much. most people weren't even sold on any one idea, and there was a much greater sense of enjoying and appreciating all the varying ideas people would come up with even if you personally didn't share them. making the characters be out of character was the real crime, because then it didn't diagetically make sense in the same way, didn't wholly fit.

(again, this is not to say fanon didn't happen and characters weren't smoothed down into a simplified personality that fit these varying fan-interpretations instead of the game itself. certainly damien love/lust was just as bad as it had ever been, and everyone loved to mangle his character into a more stereotypical "bad boy with a heart of hold" all the time. but it certainly felt less set-in-stone about it than it does now, with any deviation from the norm being considered strange and odd and even broadly shunned from the wider fandom.)

all of this is setup for establishing what the writing, lore, and characters felt like in the earlier days. the characters were the strongest part, with their relationships to each other being equally as important. the lore played it fast and loose and was far less interested in setting anything in concrete because that wasn't the important part. the lore wasn't the important part, which was what made it all the more intoxicating to think about, all the more fun to play with.

montrip is easily the biggest offender when it comes to setting everything in all-or-nothing terms and demanding absolutism from the world. broadly i blame the hitchhiker conversations for the worst of it, but i think ultimately the way they handled the entire premise of the game is where this problem stems from. it's not really an exploration in the same sense that you might explore the first game, discovering different perspectives and different people with different relationships to each other. it's an exploration in the sense of a sequel that over-explains the monster, that takes the most boring option out of all those that were possible and floating around and settles on something that was blatant, obvious, typically rejected not because of how novel it is but how trite and par for the course it is in the rest of the genre.

yeah, okay. humans know nothing about monsters and there's a "monster dimension" that exists separately from the human dimension. there's no crossover between the two of them. of course there's a big grand-scale fight between the eldritch powers that zoe used to be a part of, from which not only are slayers the main organization against them, but also the merkingdom has some horse in this race too. it's an urge to make things so universal in explaining them, in revealing connecting threads which unite everything that's ever happened in here, that makes the worldbuilding and lore immediately much more boring than it ever was before.

and it didn't have to be this way! nothing in the first game contradicts any of this too explicitly (see the above, the first game loves to contradict itself), and i would even be happy if this was basically canon but never stated or confirmed to be the big overarching everything going on underneath it all. i believe you should probably know these things about any world that you create and have them in the back of your mind. the difference is that you can know these things and keep them in mind, even focusing on things where its very relevant, and still not reveal them. this is why you have lore bibles, after all. every horror writer knows exactly how their monster works and the full underlying reason for everything that happens, but that doesn't mean the audience will see it or possess this same information too, and leaving it intentionally obscure will make far better stories.

which, this is bad enough, but it wouldn't be the breaking point for me if this was all there was.

but the worst thing of all has to be the slow decay of the very same characters that sold me on this world, this lore, this game in the first place. monster prom is nothing without the characters in it. it's a dating sim, it has nothing but characters to get you to play, and liking these characters are the entire reason anyone would pick up monster prom in the first place.

and the first game pulls this off extremely well. it's all in the tagline: be your worst self. they are, indeed, all terrible people. yes, even that character that you just thought of right now. they all have points in the game where they commit atrocities, where they kill or hurt people, where they do inexcusable things that could not be ignored in a more serious setting.

but that's the point. i think there's something very powerful in creating a character who not only do you love and love their personality and the way they interact with the world, but who also are inapologetically terrible, and to have the humor and the charisma be so good that you don't get bogged down in the "this is awful". likewise, it never feels the urge to really go out of its way to justify what's going on. this is not to say theres no discussion of if someone "deserved it", but usually there's still the sense that the joke is on them, that this is still an extreme reaction specifically for comedy and not necessarily something that can be justified. you can have damien set leonard on fire and have it feel earned, without prompting the needed reaction of what it's actually like to watch someone burn to death.

this is what sets the prank masterz ending apart from the rest of the game, and really establishes it as the first real "bad ending". because nothing that you do or happens in the prank masterz ending is any different from anything else that happens in any other run. you summon evil beings from other dimensions as a throwaway gag on how visiting one location raises your stats. you kill other people and damn them to terrible fates. you watch as body horror happens. the only difference is that, in the prank masterz ending, the laugh track doesn't play.

the rest of the game and the writing echoes this philosophy, this careful interplay of tropes that keeps everything tongue in cheek and yet sincere enough to make sure emotional beats still land when they're needed. the characters feel true to themselves and their own emotions, even when the world is extreme and excessive, when everything else runs on comedy logic.

this is also what i noticed failing first as time went on.

like i said, fanon has always existed and there's always been very specific ideas as to what characters are like in the same way fanon always flattens down characters into the same tropes over and over. scott is stupid and innocent and doesn't know what sex is. damien is violent and hot and too cool for anyone else. miranda is the idiot girl character. repeat over and over and over until you get sick of it.

but it's been an issue as time has crept on that canon has started to approach fanon and began to merge with it. now, scott is so innocent that he can't even curse. polly starts being mean to her friends and saying things that would be very hurtful to hear. the merkingdom isn't really super evil and fucked up, it's just miranda that's like that. they become simpler, easier to digest, streamlined for social media posts and mass-sharing. they become less and less subversions of existing tropes and moreso just another example of them, something else to add to the collection, not their own individual stories.

even further from this, what more complex traits they had are now stated and not shown. polly is stated to be smart and clever in a way that her party girl persona doesn't imply and to be sincerely rather down to earth with the people she cares about, but we seldom ever see this anymore unless its the game specifically trying to make a point about it, in which case it won't let her do anything that implies cleverness and moreso will just outline it in the narration. vera is stated to care for people in a very genuine and heartfelt way, but seldom will get a chance to do so, and every opportunity for her to do so to their faces is missed while she will just outright state it later. it does not feel consistent, it does not feel like any of these are intended reads of their actions. it feels like the devs have something they want to do but no idea on how to actually do so. and forget it if you want these traits to manifest in small ways that show up in unrelated moments and scenes.

the dialogue becomes harder and harder to tell between each speaker, if you are just looking at what's said and not at the pictures attached to it. the characters' distinct voices have been eroded away, so that they speak more and more like each other, relaying the same terms and ideas in the same words. perspective becomes a suggestion, instead of a must.

this is something that started back in monster camp too, as all of the endings in that game felt ultimately the same as every other ending. it's very hard to place or define the full reason why, why there feels like there's no emotional stakes nor investment, why everything feels moreso like selecting different coats of paint and trying to find all the different ending pictures rather than being interested in exploring the characters as characters.

stranger yet, the series that started with the tagline of "be your worst self" has experienced a kind of... softening, for lack of a better word? what i mentioned about being able to handle the balance between terrible people who do terrible things and the light tone of the game starts to change, as abruptly the same characters who were down with violent murder in the first game start to lose their nerve, acting more and more on more typical morality. it's one of those things that feels like it's starting to damage the tone, as abruptly it's not as absurd as it used to be, demands less suspension of disbelief which could buffer and support the rest of the setting on it. there's even a part in one of the endings in montrip which involves current-polly and current-scott looking back on their monprom selves and reacting in horror at how violent and careless their pranks are, in a way that fundamentally felt like it was undercutting and disparaging all the things that felt fun and made monprom what it was.

which is odd, really, because more and more i feel like the characters in these games like each other less and less. the friendships and genuine enjoyment of each others company that brought me to this game in the first place has gone. now they don't mention each other as much, don't care for each other's feelings and reactions as much, aren't as willing to support each other. they are more and more found on their own, relied on their own, seem to seek out contact and interaction with their own friends less and less. it feels like they're all separating out into their own worlds, but also feels like they wouldn't willingly want to interact with each other if they weren't already forced together by some other outside contrivance.

if anything, i'd compare it to every other dating sim out there, where you, the player, are the most important person in these characters' lives, and they only feel ambivalent or antagonistic towards every other character. which, again, is not why i picked up monster prom or why i liked it so much in the first place.

and it's because of this that it feels like the current state of the series has to focus on its increasingly weak worldbuilding and lore, trying to form a more serious foundation without character relationships being so tightly bound together, without the characters themselves being more developed and rich, without an aspect of absurd humor to rely on.

more and more i've noticed monprom has to rely on referencing other series to make itself funny and create humor, which, again, it's always done. it was just easier to ignore back then, if you didn't know what was being referenced, because there was always more going on in the exact same scene to bolster it and give context clues as to the setup and punchline at play. it feels like the current games are much more dependent on you knowing pop culture references in order to have any fun with it, and i'm someone who, again, is very picky in what i like or what i'll seek out. i'm not interested in a stream of references about other things that i would much rather be doing than playing through a game that feels like it hates that i like it at all, when i could, again, just be engaging with the thing that takes itself seriously and knows what it wants.

[rebornofstars]

Silly Game Time: Who are some of your favorite alien (non-human *and* extra-terrestrial) characters? And what do you like about them?

They can be from sci-fi or fantasy, from other worlds or dimensions or realms. All that matters is that they're not from Earth and that they're not human in any traditional sense (and, most of all, that you find them interesting).

MY FAVOURITE ALIENS. i've been a little bit in love with space since i was 9.

firstly for the definitely non-human:

the doctor. of course. and literally everyone from his show. the weeping angels. the sky fish. nardole. missy. romana. the ood. the list goes on

um. bumblebee. 😅

star wars creatures

estraven from le guin's the left hand of darkness.

d'lacey's erth dragons are from the planet ki:mera

those martians in the war of the worlds. i had a h.g. wells kick halfway through high school. this wasn't my favourite of his works, but it was fun.

and for the recognisably human, but still extraterrestrial, because i really wanted to include these guys:

mara of the acoma from feist & wurts' empire trilogy. she is one of my favourite fictional women ever. in the context of her own series, she's not an alien, but in the context of the riftwar saga (which was published first and contain more elements of feist's mainline plot than the empire trilogy), she is, so. i think she counts.

the mandalorian. i'm not immune to single fathers... or general badassery...

darrow from brown's red rising. born on mars.

todd from the knife of never letting go (book) / chaos walking (movie). i have fond memories of going to see this at the drive-in with a friend when it came out.

actually, this list is shorter than i thought it would be 🥺 there's a couple of other books/movies i love about space but they're all human-focused and mostly about astronauts. if anyone has any recs pretty please drop them below?

[bakafurai]

WARGH SONA REF..... because I couldn't bring myself to actually get rid of my past ones haha....... i like robots can you tell???

[harrylights]

.

[bunny-jpeg]

firecracker

carlos sainz jr.

request: no. 52 “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” + cs55 🥰 no. 52 "you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

tags: smut/pwp, cowgirl position, established relationship, hair pulling, dom!reader, sub!carlos

eros (the valentine's day collection)

carlos knew he wasn't stupid. he prided himself in being intelligent both on and off the track. but maybe this wasn't his brightest moment.

you stood there in the living room with two items in your hands. carlos' red ferrari t-shirt and your noticeably pink blouse. it took a moment before his expression dropped in realization.

"i'm so sorr-"

you dropped your hands and held onto the garment tighter, "this is the second time this has happened. i told you not to mix my whites with your ferrari reds." you huffed.

carlos got up from the couch and walked over you. his pace was slow, despite his pure intentions to make you feel better as he approached you. he had to admit, you looked good when you were angry.

he got close into your space and looked at you with a soft glance, "my love, i'm so sorry."

"please use your head, carlos. i need these for work, i can't show up looking like an after dressed cotton candy." you frowned, "and i don't hear about how you'll just buy me a new shirt. money can't solve all of your problems.it's not fair tome." you knew you were rambling, but you didn't care. you wanted to get your point across!

carlos took the clothing from you and leaned in to kiss you on the lips so delicately. you wanted to get made some more, but when carlos threw an arm around your middle, you only sank into the kiss.

you held onto the front of his t-shirt and moaned gently against him. he smiled into it and you knew you've give him a piece of your mind later. but for now, you'd just accept his kisses.

"there." he said, "i promise i will be more mindful. i'm sorry, i love you." he said gently as he cupped your face, "i won't let it happen again."

you smiled a little at his tenderness, "next time you do this, i'll make sure all of your white t-shirts get stained too." your words were a warning and carlos simply smiled.

"i would not accept anything less, my love." then kissed your cheek, "i have to admit my love." he leaned in a little closer, "you're so fucking hot when you're mad."

you chuckled softly and said, "oh i bet i am." then pressed a hand against his firm chest, "i bet you love when i tear you a new one." then looked into his dark eyes.

carlos smiled broadly, "don't get me too excited." his eyes cast to your hand on his chest and he licked his lips. you were simply too beautiful.

"sainz."

"i can't help myself. I love when you put me in my place." he looked a little excited at the prospect of you getting angry with him. you playfully rolled your eyes and went in for another heated kiss.

"you are something else, honey." you said, "but don't ruin my laundry again, or i'll be making something else of yours pink." then patted his behind while made him more excited. you led him to the bedroom, with the clothes left behind. carlos' gaze lingered on your behind as you led him to your shared bedroom. before you went through the open door, you asked him, "going to be good for me, carlos?"

carlos felt his sweatpants tighten and he nodded dumbly, "yes, of course." and felt a spike in his pulse, "you really are the most beautiful woman alive."

he got his clothes off and you did your own. carlos reached for you and you batted his hands away. he looked at you with mild confusion before you placed your hand on his chest once more, only to push him down onto the bed.

you climbed on top of your nude lover, taking in the sight of tanned skin and strong muscles. you ran your hands down him with a certain affection. you mused over him for a moment before you let out a small laugh. he looked good under you, "how does this look? still like me when i'm angry?"

carlos ran his tongue across his top teeth before he chuckled, "i love it. you look beautiful on top, it is like your rightful place." he reached for you once more but you batted his hands away.

"look, don't touch." you said and pinned carlos' hands above his head. his wrists captured in your one hand. it was a slight stretch of your palm, but it was worth it, "this is punishment for ruining my shirt."

"of course, of course." he tensed up when you soon sank down on his cock. with a little maneuvering of your hips. he cursed under his breath and thought that if heaven were a place, it was between your soft legs.

"fuck carlos. i hate that your cock makes my brain feel like mush."you groaned, you started to move your hips. they were short lovely thrusts that made carlos feel pleasure race through him.

the hammering of his hear while you worked yourself against him, you felt perfect around him. he swallowed back the lust to say to you, "you look beautiful."

your free hand was in his dark hair, you gave it a yank and his eyes rolled back a little. you said lowly, "i know, and you look like a total slut, sainz. you get off to this. to me." there was heat in your tone as the pleasure pounded through both of you.

you moved quickly and kept him under you with a momentum that made him groan. you shakily exhaled as you kept up your pace, it was a lot and it made your heart pound. there was a small fire of lust in your gut as the two of you moved, or rather he tried to move. but it was hard with how he was pinned under you.

you pulled his hair once more and he moaned. he sounded cute when he moaned against you. next time you'd squeeze your thighs around his head, make him really squirm. carlos was good. a good man, and under you, a good boy. you'd forgive what he had tone, especially with those doe eyes heavy with lust.

"promise not to do that again?" you asked as you held onto him tightly, you moved against him. the force of your movements was heavy and you licked your lips. you could see the pleasure across his features.

carlos tensed up and you chuckled lightly. this was your boyfriend. the pain in your side, the love of your life.

there was a leap in your chest as you let go of his wrists and pinned both hands to his chest for better leverage. your hips moved to a rhythm of your own making. it felt beautiful, you could feel his heartbeat. it was like a symphony in your soul as your bodies moved together. you loved him, and he loved you.

you gasped loudly as the pleasure raced through your body. you squeezed your eyes shut as he feeling went down to your very soul. it was hot and left you flustered all over.

"i like when you're mad at me." he chuckled, "you get so fiery and it can't help myself. more beautiful than a bonfire."

you felt a tinge of warmth in your cheeks from his words. you wanted to refute them, but you couldn't bring yourself to do so. you leaned in to him and then kissed him on the lips.

he tasted warm, like comfort and of home. you felt a curl of lovein your core, it was a beautiful feeling. all of him was perfect, even when he got under your skin.

you pressed further into him as you made love. the anger repalced with something else. you kissed him once more and felt the thrill og pleasure through you. the kisses grew hungry and needy.

carlos loved the feeling, how you drove him wild. you moved against him like you knew exactly how to make him yearn with sexual want. you were the woman of his dream. you shared another tender kiss and he groaned with his lips against yours.

"fuck, carlos." you said with a heated moan. you sounded beautiful as carlos was tempted to grab you by the hips and fuck you with an intense pleasure. an attempt to take control, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. he watched you fall apart on his cock, you held him by the shoulders tightly as you rode yourself through your pleasure.

it was heated and arousing in a way that made carlos close behind you with pleasure grasping you tightly. you basked in his warmth, the flutter of post orgasmic bliss left you feeling beyond amazing. and soon carlos joined you in the bliss as he finished as well.

"fuck." you exhaled as you slowed your movements to a stop. you enjoyed the feeling of him under you, it felt comfortable as you spread your hands across his chest.

he then wrapped a strong arm around you to pull you next to him in bed then kissed the top of your head with affection. he asked, "am i forgiven?"

you looked at him and chuckled lightly, "for now. you may find me hot when i'm angry. but you look hot when you're all fucked out." then curled up close to him. you shared one more tender kiss.

carlos would be forgiven this time, but he knew not to try anything like that again <3

[cera-writes]

So… a bit of a (potentially) weird fix request. The crop top has me in all kinds of feelings. The hair metal look on Gambit even more so. But I have the idea that the self insert (SI) is a massive fan of the bands that he uses T-shirts for, and Gambit has no clue about the music, he just loves the designs - and to rile up the SI. I’d love to see something in that vein, teasing or stealing his merch maybe? Could be SFW or NSFW? I’d imagine nsfw if it went too heated or playful an argument.

Sorry if this seems like a ramble. I just have the funniest images of myself having these arguments with him and it makes me smile.

Okay, BUT I LOVE THIS PROMPT. Yes, I'll write it asap ≧◡≦ pairing: reader x Remy Lebeau tags: nsfw, rough sex, kissing, face riding, teasing, dry humping, edging [Prompt: Reader steals Remy's crop top to teach him a lesson]

"You Wearin' My Shirt I See."

Dammit.

Why did he have to be so freaking hot in that tee shirt?! And his hair. GODS. You wanted to run your fingers through it.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of Remy. He was wearing one of your favorite bands on a sinful crop top that he had absolutely no business wearing. In front of you.

And he looked so damned good in it.

"Where'd you get it?" You asked him, taking a plate of beignets that he made.

"Get what chérie? These good looks?" Remy winked, clasping the tongs together in a clapping motion.

You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of a beignet before your eyes settled back towards his midriff. That sexy, defined midriff.

"My eyes are up here mon ami," he teased you.

You huffed, blushing and embarrassed from the way he was making you flustered. The way only he could make you.

"Your shirt." you said as a matter of fact, trying to hide your annoyance.

"A thrift store." Remy shrugged.

Your eyes widened. "That shirt?! Do you know how hard it is to find that specific shirt? And you just found it? At a thrift store no less?" you shook your head.

Remy chuckled. " They must be important or somethin'. Shoot, I mean, I don't even know the band. Just liked the design."

You playfully smacked his arm.

"Rock God ?! You don't know who Rock God is?" You looked at him in disbelief. You absolutely loved that band. Worshipped them even. Hell, you'd basically worshipped them when you were in high school.

Remy simply shook his head.

"Poser," you smirked, crossing your arms. Remy arched a brow and moved closer to you, backing you up against the kitchen counter.

He noticed the slight dusting of powdered sugar on the corner of your lip before taking his thumb ever so slowly and swiping it across your skin. You tensed for a split second. He then brought his thumb to his lips before licking the sugar clean off.

"So sweet," he teased, dangerously close to your ear before moving away from you like nothing had happened. You could feel the heat of his breath tickle you, exciting you in the littlest of ways.

You felt your body suddenly heating up at his little act of flirting. So that's how he wanted to play? Two could play that game.

Later that night, you went to check and see if Remy was in his room. After a few knocks with no answer, you proceeded inside. You knew his room had an attached bathroom and you saw steam rising behind the closed door, meaning he was in the shower.

You also couldn't help but notice the shirt he was wearing earlier tossed carelessly on top of his bed.

Perfect.

You didn't know how long you had but you stripped down in nothing but your underwear. You threw his shirt over your head, leaving your other clothes discarded on the floor.

It smelled so good. You inhaled the scent of him. A hint of tobacco, sandalwood, and the faint scent of beignets he made earlier lingered on the linen. It was just so incredibly Remy.

You heard some rustling in the bathroom and quickly posed on the bed before he noticed. You laid down in the usual sexy cliche pose, one hand resting on your hip as you used the other to prop your head up on one of his pillows.

What you didn't expect to see was him clad in nothing but a towel draped over his waist as he came out of the bathroom after flicking the light switch off.

It was dark in his room, but you could see him plain as day. He hadn't noticed you yet. He shuffled around the room until he found the lamp on his bedside table. He yanked the pull cord down and nearly jumped in surprise upon seeing you, at last.

"Putain, tu m’as fait peur!" Gambit jumped back, holding his towel tight against his ass. He then noticed what you wearing and a lack thereof, on his bed.

"Damn, chére, you look good enough to eat sprawled out like that. And what's this?" He smirked before biting his bottom lip. "You wearin' my shirt I see?"

"Nice of you to finally notice," you said in your most sultry voice.

The plan was just to tease him. But you didn't expect him to actually be into it. You figured he'd kick you out of his room or something after pulling a stunt like that, but you should know Remy better than that.

Remy climbed up onto his bed, getting ridiculously close to you again. "Now, ma petite, you should know by now when Gambit sees somethin' he likes, he goes after it."

You felt your body growing hotter with each word that came from the creole's smooth tongue. You wanted him. You wanted this man from the very second you set eyes on him. You wanted whatever this was between you both.

Without a second thought, you were pulling him into you. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him into a very heated kiss. All those months of you teasing each other finally culminated into this exact moment.

His stubble tickled your cheek as he kissed you back with even more ferocity and lust. God, you couldn't get enough of Remy Lebeau.

He groaned into the kiss, letting his tongue wrestle yours in a game of dominance. You needed to be above him. You needed that sense of control. So you did. You flipped positions so that you were now straddling his waist.

He let out a low whistle before drinking you in. "My shirt sure does look better on you."

He then sat up, only to lean into your ear. "But I bet it'd look even better off." He nipped at the soft skin of your ear, making you whimper and shudder pleasantly as you felt yourself getting wetter for him. He knew that got a reaction out of you earlier and loved the way you came undone for him.

You then found yourself grinding against him through that pitiful excuse of a towel he still had tied around his waist. This time, Remy was the one letting soft whimpers escape his lips. "A-ahh, ma chere..."

Oh.

Oh.

That definitely did it for you. You ground your hips into his again. If it wasn't before, your underwear was definitely soaked now.

"Continue comme ça," he begged. Oh, to have him begging in French underneath you was such a treat. It definitely turned you on more than you'd have liked to admit.

You continued teasing him. Just feeling him against your core was almost enough to send you over the edge but Remy stopped you from abruptly reaching that high. You pouted in frustration at this.

"Not yet. I wanna taste you," he licked his lips. You didn't have time to react before he was scooting your frame above him, positioning you so that you were practically sitting on his face. He pulled your underwear down your thighs before they were even completely off of you as he didn't stop until he had tasted every inch of you, his skilled tongue dancing patterns against your hot, drenched skin.

"Oh, fuck!" You screamed. You gripped the brass metal headboard, gripping it for dear life as his tongue explored everywhere. You started grinding again, not realizing the sound his bed was making as it creaked back and forth. Honestly, you didn't seem to care and neither did he. You would soon rather wake the entire Institute before letting this kind of pleasure slip away.

"Gods, Remy...I'm about to-" Your eyes slammed shut and you screamed in ecstasy as waves of pleasurable relief and bliss washed over you. He lapped up every bit of your essence and proudly grinned once he'd made you come. He did that.

After you caught your breathing and had time to recuperate for a second, you decided you weren't done with him...by no means anywhere close to being through with this man.

You positioned yourself on top of him once more, not that he had any conplaints. "It's my turn again." you smirked, face and hair sticky with beads of sweat. But you looked like a goddess in his eyes. "Angélique," he sighed, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip and tasting any remaining remnants of you. "So sweet," he purred.

His erection had practically slipped from underneath the towel by now and you ripped the rest of the fabric away. He was big. He was already dripping precum for you before you'd even lowered your mouth completely down his length.

His hands instantly gripped the sheets. He hissed as a gasp of pleasure escaped his lips, just from you doing god's work.

He was a whimpering hot mess, uttering broken French as you bobbed up and down his shaft at a pace comfortable enough to edge him close but not enough to make him orgasm. Not yet anyway. No, you wanted to enjoy seeing him squirm for you.

"Oh, mon ami, I should let you borrow my-unf-shirt more often if it leads to this," he moaned, tilting his head back in pleasure.

You teased him sinfully, bringing him dangerously close to climaxing but denying him that release.

You didn't have time to continue before he wanted control. "I can't stand it anymore, chere. I have to have you." He growled, flipping positions again but this time you were on your hands and knees, pressed into the mattress.

You hardly had time to even notice him slipping on a condom. He was making fast work of his hands.

"So eager," you teased.

He lined himself at your entrance before slamming into you with such a need that would bring the whole Institute down. You gripped the brass headboard again, screaming in writhing pleasure as he pounded in and out of you with such relentless force.

You were damn sure the other X-Men could hear every single moan and scream coming from Remy's room but you could own up to that later. You honestly couldn't give a fuck. The only thing that mattered right now was this man literally fucking your brains out. And Gods. He was.

"Harder!" you begged. Remy was already so close. He obliged you and gripped your waist with both hands, throwing his head back as he moaned your name over and over again. All you could think about was him in that crop top and his hair done in such a way that could have sent you over the edge right then and there.

He was hitting that sweet spot over and over, causing you to come a second time before his movements became sloppier as he finally released himself inside of you.

You were both a panting, hot sweaty mess when you collapsed down onto the mattress. Remy carelessly tossed the used condom in the bin beside his bed.

"Fuck, Remy. That was...amazing." You smiled, laughing incredulously a bit as you kissed his cheek as he laid beside you.

"You're amazing, ma petite." He grinned, pulling you into his chest.

Somewhere amidst all your fun, your underwear had gotten lost in the sheets. Remy found them before sliding them into his bedside drawer for keeps.

"Can I keep your shirt?" You asked, not expecting him to say yes.

"As long as I can keep those," He smirked, alluding to your underwear.

"Deal," you sighed contently as you both drifted off to a great sleep.

A/N: Thanks so much for requesting this @cookiesandcosplay! It was so much fun to write! <333

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

---

“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.” 

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too. 

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened. 

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened. 

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot. 

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop. 

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now. 

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan. 

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box. 

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going. 

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.” 

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever. 

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded. 

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?” 

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too. 

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part. 

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her. 

“New record, champ,  that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check. 

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces. 

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what. 

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts. 

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.  

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself. 

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now.. 

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--” 

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while. 

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates. 

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling. 

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut. 

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head. 

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity. 

Eddie was still standing there. 

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question. 

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking. 

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated. 

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up. 

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag. 

***

Steve didn’t open it. 

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night. 

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days. 

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.” 

Eddie nodded. 

Eddie left. 

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat. 

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it. 

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible. 

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him. 

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap. 

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that. 

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’ 

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada. 

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke. 

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale. 

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess. 

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six. 

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

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

Thank god you linked your Tumblr on AO3 or I wouldn’t have found the person responsible for possibly the best Doey fanfic there is! And it’s a romantic one too!

I really, really love the way you wrote it and how much hope it gives me for Poppy Playtime Chp 5 (I pray he survived 🤞) And thanks that timeline of how exactly Doey and the toys are not exactly kids anymore since coming to be. I also like how you explain how Doey, despite being made of three dead kids, has his own conscious (or the fourth and leading as someone told me).

But what I really wanted to say is that I can’t say for your story to develop. Like I’m wondering what happened to Player, Poppy, Kissy, etc. How will Doey adjust. What happens when society possibly discovers him. Like I know their lives will never be the same, let alone normal (which isn’t a bad thing!).

Pardon me rambling, but I just wanted to express how much I enjoy your story!

And if possibly, could I have a drawing of tiny Doey making PB&J? 🥹💕

Eeeee thank you so much for the kind words!! :D

I'm glad there are people who like that it's romance...I thought I had made it clear with the tags at first but I realize now that Doey x Reader on tumblr doesn't mean exactly the same thing has Doey/Reader on ao3. When I realized some people had the wrong idea about where my fic was going I kinda panicked a bit tbh ^^;

As for the story developing in regards to the canon cast...I was probably going to leave that ambiguous. A big part of why my other Poppy fic (DogDay x Reader) never updated (I don't want to say abandoned because I hope to get back to it) was that I got too bogged down trying to litigate what would happen in Chapter 4 and onwards that I just...intimidated myself out of writing anything at all. (Most of my other fics are either oneshots or wildly removed from canon.)

Though I don't think canon PPT has a happy ending in store for us, so that's definitely influencing how I think of the state of the factory in Second Chances. I realize this might not be the most satisfying answer but I don't want to be coy and string people along for something that probably won't happen. T_T

But thank you again for the kind words!! I'm excited to be working on this (Chapter 3 is still coming along...slowly...)

And sammich! Sorry it's kinda a rough sketch but I did attempt to use a gradient map for the first time...

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 5/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

A/N: I think we are staying on track for this to wrap up within two more chapters, but again, we are both in the dark if that's the case😂 Thank you guys for the love! If you are wanting to be tagged, please send me an ask. It's a lot easier for me to keep track of who's been added and who hasn't :)

_________

Y/N’s POV:

Okay, so maybe I blew up a little more than necessary, but I tried to chill out before he started chasing me, ordering that I didn’t walk away and talk to him. Let a girl try to get a hold of her emotions for a second big guy.

I’ve been anxious all day, waiting to talk to him about some deep seeded trauma, and then he comes and screws up all of it with a simple acceptance of an invitation. I know he didn’t mean harm by it, but he’s a trained professional. That was not a trained professional response. Plus, stepping out of my normal routine of being a bitch to him to keep him at a distance wasn’t just a switch I could flip.

Again, I could have handled that better, but now my brain is in mission mode, trying to reprogram what this night has set up for us. Considering the invitation was for tonight, it gave me little to no time to prepare.

“What time did she say dinner was?” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was going through our small, hidden arsenal of gadgets Tony had made for us.

“Six,” Bucky replied from his room down the hall.

Great, that was forty-five minutes from now… “Ok, I can do this.” Deciding it was best to keep some bugs on hand in case we could plant them in the house, and we would be planting them, I needed to consider sizes and placements.

“Should we bring over some wine or something?” Bucky’s voice was now in the doorway to my room, but I kept my back to him as I sifted through our tools.

“I made a pie earlier today. We can take that,” I answered absentmindedly.

“Why’d you make a pie?”

“Felt like it,” I shrugged and walked out of the closet with three small wires/ bugs in hand. When I looked up, I saw he had changed into a nicer button-up and was tightening a tie around his collar he hadn't been wearing earlier. “Why are you wearing a tie?” I examined him.

“Same reason you’re wearing a nicer dress. I want to make a good impression,” he shrugged, straightening pieces of his outfit.

“I’m wearing this because we were going to our ‘anniversary dinner,’” I made sure to put the lie in hand quotes. “I had a story that went with it, but this can pass as casual, too,” I motioned to my dress and moved toward him, placing the wires on the bed. “This looks like you’re about to give a sales pitch.”

Without thinking, I pop his collar up and loosen the tie to get rid of it. The whole time I’m focusing on untying it, I ramble about what the plan is for the night.

“I’m going to give you a wire to put wherever you see fit, and I’ll do the other two. I’ll excuse myself to use the bathroom and sneak it where it’s needed. I feel it’s important we look for cameras already in the house in case it’s a setup. We don’t need them having hard proof that we bugged their place. We want to come off as simple yet good assets if we want them to bring us on board for their work,” I struggle with a certain spot on the tie he somehow fixed in an efficient way I’d never seen. “Jesus, were you a sailor in another life? Might as well have knotted it.”

He doesn’t respond, but I get it off in the next two seconds and look at him to see he had been studying me intently as I invaded his space. I see my slip-up, push the tie into his chest, and take a step back.

“Sorry.”

“No problem,” he answers rather calmly, and I look at his eyes, seeing patience there. Always that damn patience. How did he still have it with me even with how I’ve treated him? “Listen-”

“About last night,” I say at the same time, and he seems shocked but gives a single nod to tell me to continue. “I want to say I’m sorry for being all over the place recently. From last night to thirty minutes ago.”

He seems frozen by my apology, and I became anxious enough that I start to word vomit.

“I took some time to think after last night and spent the day stressing, thinking how I was going to talk to you about it because I do want to. I want to get what I can out on the table if you’d be ok with that,” I look up through my lashes, and I see the most subtle turn of his lip as he watches me attentively.

“Are you hinting that there’s a chance I’ll get to see the side of you others are lucky enough to see?” he retorts, grin growing and taking a step closer to me.

His use of the word ‘lucky’ shortcircuits my brain, and all I can do is nod once, slowly, as my answer. He takes another step, and I match it with one back. I feel more vulnrable than I was expecting to.

“You can understand now why having our plans for the night changed made me slightly temperamental.”

“I think slightly may be an understatement.”

“I think you still should choose your words carefully,” I say, tightening my smile. However, it doesn’t shut him down like normal. Instead, he laughs under his breath, and the doorbell rings.

Both of our heads shoot toward the noise, and solemnity takes over the room.

“You don’t think that’s,” Bucky pauses as he turns back to me.

“How often am I wrong?” I take a deep breath in and smooth my dress out as I walk over, pausing beside him. “Hide the wires. I already did a sweep of the house while you were getting ready to make sure we didn’t have anything out of place. I’ll tell them you’re getting ready.”

I don’t need to open the door to know who it is, but when I do, the urge to yell, “I told you so!” in Bucky’s face is strong.

“Bethanne!” I smile kindly and immediately notice the dish in her hand. Reggie is behind her, holding two others, looking like he just got off work and had been dragged over here. “Did Beau tell me wrong? Are we not eating at y’all’s house tonight?”

She scrunches her face in a practiced motion and lifts the ceramic bowl up as she explains.

“I hate to ask this of you, but our oven is still the old rickety one. The new one had some faulty design, and we had to ship it back. Needless to say, it decided to give out on us today of all days,” she raised her shoulders. “I know we sprung the dinner on you suddenly, but would you two be willing to host if we provide the food?”

Not on the money of what I guessed, but pretty fucking close to the money if you ask me.

“Who is it, Doll?” Bucky’s voice carries from the hallway he’s now emerging from. The first three buttons on his dress shirt are undone, and he’s messing with the cuffs on the sleeves. “Hey, Bauers,” he smiles yet still holds shock in his features by the neighbor's appearance. “Did we get the time wrong?” he asks, looking at his watch before coming to my side, where I've now moved and am letting themselves in.

“No, no, no,” Bethanne shakes her head and hands off one of the pots to me as she takes one from Reggie, who looks more bothered to be here than happy. Long day human trafficking, asshole? “We had some appliance issues thanks to some of the renovations we were doing. I was just asking your wife if we can use your house as tonight's setting and possibly use your oven while here.”

Without hesitance, Bucky takes the dish from my hands and the dish Bethanne had swapped for and nods for Reggie to follow him.

“No problem at all. Let me help you ladies with that. Char," A nickname he had never used for my character before, but it seemed to work fluently. "Would you like to get some wine for the two of you while I get this organized in the kitchen?” he asks me, placing a kiss on the side of my head while his hands are full as he walks towards the other room.

I don’t know how he’s learned to play his role so well, but it’s convincing, even to me.

“Uh, yeah,” I almost stutter in my response as I motion for Bethanne to follow me to the wine cooler out in the garage. “Red or white with tonight's dish?”

"Do you have any more husbands like that in the back I can steal? What a gentleman," she coos, shoulder-bumping me.

___________

Half an hour of baking the food and getting it plated, and our conversation continued with questions strictly about us mostly, which would have been fine if not for the reason behind such invasive intentions.

They started off simple. How’d you guys meet? Who made the first move? What did we love about the town so far? What kind of hobbies and adventures did we take on before moving here? All questions we had prepared for, and if not, could easily improvise.

So far. No slip-ups. If anything, we sold the scheme far better than I’d imagined we would, even when they became more personal. And our discussion on being the ‘prude couple’ last night seemed to affect Bucky’s actions a lot more than I was expecting.

An obvious hand on my thigh under the table and an arm thrown over my seat in a slightly possessive manner seemed to catch the eye of Reg, who mimicked some of the moves as if it were a competition.

In addition, Bucky kept making small compliments about how I looked and how smart I was when they asked about my job. Dropping little comments about things I did (not my character) that he loved and appreciated.

“She’s always doing things like that. I almost never have to worry about making coffee in the morning because she has it all set up just to hit a button and go.”

“You should ask Charlotte about that. She’s the reason our house looks like a home. I’m sure she could give some advice on the kitchen backsplash.”

“She may not know how to boil an egg correctly, but her baking skills are unmatched. I've put on a few pounds now that we have a nice kitchen to spend time in."

I did my best not to act shocked every time he dropped a compliment, but the fact he could have made shit up for my character and used those details as conversation pieces, yet he went the honest way (although more convincing, of course), shocked me.

“Speaking of baking skills,” Reginald nodded his head back to the kitchen counter behind us and smiled at me. “I spied a pie on the counter. Any chance we can have that to finish off this dinner?”

I was still staring at Bucky from his last form of appreciation when I blinked out of my distraction and returned to our neighbor.

“Oh, of course! I was just about to offer,” I smiled, standing up, and Bucky quickly stood next to me, pulling my chair out. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm as I moved around to the counter.

“How sweet. Oh, Charlotte, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is?” Bethanne asked, standing and giving her husband a look for not showing the same chivalry as Bucky.

I watched her, knowing that I would have used the same excuse to do what we planned to at their house. But I was two steps ahead of her.

“Of course! Beau, do me a favor and get some plates out for dessert. I’m going to show Beth-”

“Oh, I’m sure I can find it,” she waved off, coming around the table and moving to the hall promptly.

Yeah… Not without a chauffeur, honey.

“No problem,” I waved off, moving with her casually. “I need to grab some floss from my bathroom before dessert. I’ll show you to it.”

I can see the most subtle glaze of annoyance at my insistence, but she smiles and walks a step ahead of me.

I show her to the bathroom and make it seem I’m going into the master down the hall while she’s in there. And I do, but I keep an eye to make sure she isn’t snooping in any other room besides the one. We’ll have to survey it after they leave, but better that and the dining room than the whole house.

Once we’re back with the boys, no wandering to be done, Bucky helps me plate a slice of chocolate pie for each of us, and I offer to move the conversation to the porch. Any kind of redirection from the comfort of the inside of our home is welcome.

“I love how you’ve decorated your porch. It’s so cozy,” Bethanne notices, pointing out the colorful decorative pillows, hanging swing the size of a daybed, and loads of plants and decor that make the space more intimate. She and Reggie are sat on the two rocking chairs facing the front yard, and Bucky and I are sat close together on the swing, where he’s controlling the tempo we sway in.

“I always wanted a spot outside to escape. We didn’t really have that at our last home, and it was important for me to have this time around,” I replied.

My answer is actually very true. I loved being outside, especially when it was something as simple as sitting in the backyard or swinging on a porch. I had one requirement about this mission, one I’m not even sure Bucky knew about. But I asked Tony to supply a nice budget for the porch.

Call it cheesy, but growing up in such an unnatural and dehumanizing way, you crave a small part of that normalcy you see on the movie screens. For some reason, a porch I could escape on but still be within the comfort of my own home was a dream. And because it was, I thought I’d make this situation a little more bearable by granting that small wish I always had.

“Well, I may have to start budgeting for a new kind of renovation,” she patted Reg’s back, and he gave her a tight-lip smile. "What do you say, Reggie? Do you think we can get a swing like that one?” She smiled over at us just as Bucky pulled me into his side, his arm going around my waist and his hand resting on my hip.

“I have a feeling we might as well have built a home from scratch by the time you’re happy with the renovations we’ve taken on,” Reg answered with a nod before taking a swig from his beer. “Get that recipe for the pie from Charlotte, and I’ll consider buying you a new porch,” he winked my way and turned back to the front of our lawn.

I found Bucky’s hand tightening at the action, and his thumb started rubbing in an up-and-down pattern along my hip. When I turned to him slightly, his gaze stayed on Reg.

Before finishing cleaning up for the night, we said goodbye to our guests, and just when we thought we hadn’t made any headway in our conversation about work (mind you, we had dropped hints and notices about it all night, but neither of the two seemed to take the bait), Reg stopped on the last step to our porch and turned to Bucky.

“You mentioned working in transportation, and by the sounds of your new job up here, if you’re interested in a more innovative place, I may have some ins for you,” he shook Bucky’s hand. “I have some coworkers around the states that could use some employees like you on their route.”

“I may take you up on that offer. It all depends on how this week rolls out,” Bucky answered perfectly. The Bauers said their goodbyes, and we watched them walk home before turning to each other.

In a silent celebration, we grinned at the invitation and then sent wordless glances to tread carefully when we got in before scoping the place for bugs…

_______________

Bucky’s POV:

I’m not surprised that the blonde sole cycle instructor of a neighbor was able to get a wire in our bathroom, but neither Y/N nor I were in the mood to remove it right away and give away our knowledge of it, so we each grabbed another drink for the night and debriefed subtly on the porch where the only bugs we had to mind were the crickets chirping their music for the night.

Bethanne was right. Our porch was nicely done, and I hadn’t even noticed Y/N had hung lights out here until she plugged them in.

“I feel like this spot is more put together than the rest of the house.” I noticed the details when we were out here earlier. Now, we both have taken up spots in the rocking chairs our neighbors had vacated.

“I may have focused more of my attention on this spot than the others,” she smiled as she brought a tumbler glass up to her lips. She had drank wine while Bethanne was here, but as soon as they were gone, the whiskey I had made a glass for myself was stolen out of my hand before I could take a sip. Now, we had each of our own.

“Was what you said about the porch a real thing? I mean, we have balconies at the compound,” I looked at her as I sat my drink on the small table between us.

“Balconies and porches aren’t the same. At least in my head, they aren’t,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh and resting her glass in her lap. “Did you mean what you said when you were complimenting me all night?” She lulled her head to the side to look at me.

I had been giving quite a few compliments. It felt easier to use the ones I had picked up on than the ones I made up. Yet again, I think anyone should get the recognition they deserve when they excel in something. Y/N just tended to excel in more than I think she was aware of. And I was learning she didn’t seem to be used to people taking note of those things.

“Why lie?” I shrugged, starting to rock in a steady pattern.

“Because that’s this whole gig. A lie,” she answered, taking another pull of the hard liquor.

I considered her perspective and shook my head, looking out to the lights on the other side of the street. “I guess it gets tiring at points. Don’t really feel like doing it if the truth can be just as usable.”

She didn’t answer for a handful of seconds, and when I turned back to her, she was staring at me like she was waiting for another shoe to drop.

“How are you so patient? Seriously, is it a drug Tony made you before you had to deal with me on this mission? I don’t get it,” she laughs, but I can hear the genuine confusion in it as she sits forward and turns her body to me.

Honesty. I’m in a mood to be 100% honest.

“Want me to be real with you?” I asked, turning my own body.

“It’d be preferred,” she nods and rests both her arms on the armrest.

“I don’t know anything about your past, but I know most people have a reason for acting the way they do. It took years and a ton of patience before I felt like I was even close to who I used to be. I still struggle to come to terms with the fact I’ll never be who I was before the train incident,” I sigh and rest my head back against the chair as I look at her. “I guess I have understanding more than patience. I understand that you have a history of your own that I don’t know, and I can’t blame you for a lot of the things you do.”

“But you should. I’m an asshole to you,” she says, and the admission is kinda nice to hear, even if it is sad.

“Yeah, and I was hoping you’d be willing to share why that is,” I reply calmly.

She tenses some and sits back in her chair, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed, the chair rocking with her movement and her dress overflowing past her knees.

“I guess now is as good a time as ever…” She looked at me sidelong before finding comfort in the view in front of her instead. “I didn’t really have a chance to develop a personality of my own because my time in this lifestyle,” she motions around her, “started as soon as I could walk. So I had no identity to fall back on since I had to find it after I escaped.”

I had questions, but I found it best just to listen. Clearly, what she was talking about wasn’t something she brought up lightly, and being an ear to listen was what she needed right now.

“I was left behind by whichever no-good parent gave me up, and Adonis Hummel took me as his own and decided he’d try to recreate the famous assassin, The Winter Solider, from birth practically.”

The name drop came quickly and struck home. I didn’t know her whole story, but I had enough imagination and experience to believe where she was going.

“Wait, Hummel?” I started because the name sounded familiar, but…

“He was a low-level scientist who worked for Hydra when they were still using you under Pierce. He thought he had the brains and resources to create his own version of you. A version that would be more undetectable as a woman and a version he could tweak however he wanted,” she rolled her shoulders. “Lucky for him, I didn’t have to be brainwashed since I knew nothing besides the life of abuse, experimentation, and a shit ton of conditioning... " 

"To clarify, I say that for context, not sympathy,” she straightened, and I could see her shifting back to her unbothered disposition, but the truth was shining through the cracks. She may not have wanted sympathy, but something about the vulnerability seemed to lighten the load on her shoulders.

“As for why I may have built a wall around you, an unhealthy and senile wall, I felt as though…” She gulped as if the next part was harder for her to say than the abuse of her past. “I felt as though you had been my competition my whole life, and a part of me, a young and in-need-of-therapy part of me, thought it was best to keep you as far away as possible and hold onto that anger instead of work through it. It felt easier than facing the fear that I didn’t actually equate to you in any way. So that’s another reason why I felt everything with you was to prove a point.” She lets out a short breath after using all the air in her lungs in one swift swoop.

I-

It’s a lot to take in…

She doesn’t move her head back towards me after her confession, and I can’t seem to break my stare from her.

“This is where you say something like, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m actually an asshole either way, so we can go on hating each other for completely understandable reasons!’ or I don’t know? Anything but silence would be preferred, though…”

Her hand is gripping the arm rest unconsciously like an anchor keeping her on earth.

On instinct, I reach across and pull her hand into mine, keeping my stare heavy, enticing her to look at me.

She closes her eyes at first and takes another short breath before turning.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unworthy of being on the team.” I feel like I personally am the reason for her suffering, even if I had no correlation with her before I joined the team. "You are more than an asset to the team and are your own kind of weapon. It's incomparable."

“Ugh,” she sniffles and rubs an eye with the heel of her free hand as if to disguise a possible tear as allergies. “This would be so much easier if you were a piece of shit misogynistic asshole, but you're part of the few good ones out there. Steve, Sam, and Clint included, not Tony,” she noted.

I smiled, thinking about how I’d make a team like that even if she had me believe otherwise for so long.

“What I’m trying to get at, B, is you’re not the one I should be blaming for my past. You’re just as much a victim as I am, but I took the easy way out of making it more manageable for me, and I only made it harder for us both in the end. And for that,” she turned and stared into my eyes fully, the hand she held squeezing my own. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve an ounce of the kind of cruelness I tried to bury you in. You are the opposite of what they tried to make you, and you’re genuine in proving that to anyone who meets you. I've been envious of the strength you have, and I can say confidently that I deeply regret ever blaming you for that.”

I once again have to process yet another collection of words I’d never thought I hear. From her. Ever. A part of me believed this was a dream, but the part that Y/N had a grip on was practically pinching me into reality.

Without hesitating, I stood up, pulled her arm up with me, and yanked her into my body in a crushing hug.

She froze at first… The motion was quick and surprising, but slowly, she unhooked our hands, brought both of hers tightly around my waist, and laid into me. I rested my head on top of hers and pulled her shoulders in with my arms, wrapping both of my own tightly around her.

I wasn’t going to let go until she did, and by the looks of it… She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Marvel Tags:

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[guilttrippinmp3]

you buy me orange juice

college au!mikey way x gn!reader // ~1.5k words

tags: pt 1./?, fluff, few year age gap, friends to lovers, late night studying, recreational drug use, falling in love, feat. roommate frank for a couple sentences

a/n: self-indulgent mikey college au i wrote for myself that's probably ooc but maybe someone else'll enjoy it too <3

the stuffy air of mikey's dorm room was thick with the scent of weed and the sugar-cookie-scented candle you'd gifted him for christmas. the white noise of typing was louder than the CD that'd been playing when you fell asleep, now turned all the way down so that it was barely audible. you rolled over onto your side, cracking one eye open to see mikey chewing on his lip, face lit up by his open laptop screen.

"what're you doin'?"

at the sound of your voice mikey's face lit up with a smile, teeth losing their hold on his bottom lip as he turned to look at you. his hands paused, hovering above his keyboard before he reached out to trace a fingertip down your forehead.

"hey, kid," he murmured softly. the nickname made you whine, eyes squeezing back shut when he laughed. you were only a few years younger than him, but the nickname had stuck from when you'd first met. he'd been so excited to be hanging out with someone who didn't know his older brother that he'd immediately played up the few years difference between you both. you didn't mind. it had made the transition to university easier, feeling like someone was looking out for you. "sleep okay?"

"mhm. i didn't mean to fall asleep," you huffed, pushing yourself upright and letting your head fall to rest against his shoulder. "thought you were gonna wait so we could smoke together."

"i'm sorry, i'm just stuck on this fuckin' essay," he sighed. "figured you didn't wanna get high just to watch me study."

"'s okay," you replied, the warmth radiating off of mikey already making you sleepy again. the clock in the corner of his laptop screen read two in the morning, which should've been a surprise but really wasn't. "you want me to run and get you coffee?"

"where're you gonna get coffee at this time?" he asked, his expression so clear in his voice you didn't have to look up to know he was raising an eyebrow at you.

"the gas station," you replied, like it was obvious. mikey hummed softly before shutting his laptop.

"okay, let's go."

"hm?"

"let's go," he repeated, shrugging his shoulder to get you to lift your head. he slid his laptop to the free space at the end of the bed, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

"i can go for you, mikey," you tried, but you were smiling as you got up and reached for your jacket where it was thrown atop frank's bed.

"i'm not letting you go out alone at two in the morning," he shrugged, slipping his feet into the same beat-up converse he'd been wearing since you met him. now you were grinning, looking up from tying your laces to see mikey holding out a hand to you. he pulled you up, his warm palm against yours filling your stomach with butterflies. he let go as soon as you were upright, pulling on a hat just as you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink. "c'mon."

it was quiet outside, gusts of wind whipping around snowflakes that melted as soon as they touched the ground. mikey grumbled about his essay as you both walked, shoulders drawn up to his shoulders to keep the wind out of his face. his essay as he walked, shoulders drawn up to keep the wind away from his face as he rambled. you listened, even though you were still half-asleep, nowhere near awake enough to fully understand what he was talking about. he'd done the same for you on various occasions, listening to whatever was on your mind even if he couldn't do much to help (though more often than not he'd knock on your door a few days later, having done his own research on whatever was bothering you and ready to help out).

the warmth of the gas station enveloped you both as you walked in, poppy radio hits playing from the speaker as you both walked through the aisles. you grabbed a couple packs of cup noodles and mikey picked up a carton of orange juice before heading to the counter.

"can we get two coffees and a hot dog?" he asked the cashier, quickly pulling out his credit card before you could use yours.

"not fair, this was my idea," you hissed, hugging your noodles close to your chest so that he couldn't grab them and pay for those too. mikey just smiled, picking up two paper cups from the counter.

"i'll go fill these, just get the hot dog," he said, his smile growing into a grin when you shot him a glare. you didn't mind him paying, not when you could just bring coffee to his place the next time you showed up (and especially not when he glanced back at you, still smiling, while you paid for your noodles), but it was about the principle of it.

you took a bite out of the hot dog as you sidled up to him, resting your head against his shoulder as he stirred sugar into both your coffees.

"still sleepy?" he asked, humming softly when you nodded. "you can stay at my place if you want, i don't think frank's gonna be back until the morning."

"maybe," you mumbled, letting him take the hot dog from you. "thanks for paying."

"'course," was all he said, nudging the top of your head with his. "let's go, i gotta finish that paragraph tonight."

the walk back was sweet, like candy floss lingering on your fingertips sticky and bright pink. steam rose from the little gap in the covers over your coffees, taking on the orange colour of the street lights. you hummed softly to yourself, giggling when mikey joined in with you, singing along through a mouthful of food. the rest of the world was quiet and still, or at least as quiet and still as a student city ever got, except for the two of you. with the snowflakes falling it was almost as though someone had lowered the glass of a snow globe over you both, encapsulating this moment safe and sound where nobody else could reach you.

the door to mikey's room creaked as he pushed it open, and he immedately let out a groan.

"what?" you asked as you stepped past him, giggling when you noticed frank passed out in his bed. "oh, shit."

"fucker," mikey mumbled, setting his coffee down on his bedside table. "sorry, i figured he'd be too drunk to make it back."

"it's fine, i can walk myself back," you shrugged, kicking off your shoes and sitting down on the edge of mikey's bed. mikey nodded, quiet as he folded his jacket over the end of the bed, his hair unruly and sticking up when he pulled off his hat. "c'mere a second."

"what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice down as he sat down next to you. you reached out to smooth his hair back down, unable to hold back another giggle when he scrunched his nose a little. he didn't pull away though, letting you stroke every lock of his greasy hair back into place without complaint.

"there," you said, taking a sip of your coffee.

"you could stay over if you want, sleep in my bed. i got the juice you like and i'll wake you up in time for class," he suggested. when you hesitated he elbowed you gently, shifting to sit up with his back up against the headboard. "i can walk you back otherwise, don't worry."

you smiled, feeling warmth climb your cheeks.

"i can stay. if you're sure it's okay."

mikey smiled back at you, face lit up by his laptop screen as he clicked back to his assignment with a huff.

"c'mere then."

you let your jacket fall down onto the floor before you shuffled to sit beside him, slumping down so you could rest your head against his arm. as he typed away, deleting and retyping certain phrases over and over, you felt your eyelids begin to droop, the few sips of gas station coffee doing nothing to help keep you awake. you felt safe, tucked away against one of your closest friends with a CD playing quietly in the background, his arm moving slightly in time with each of his breaths.

you weren't sure when exactly you fell asleep, but you felt mikey take the coffee cup from where it was still in your hands, giving your fingers a gentle squeeze before he went back to writing. the last thing you heard was frank's bed creaking as he sat up, groaning softly.

"dude, how come i can't bring people over but you can?" he grunted, mikey's typing pausing for a moment.

"you're gonna wake them up."

"fine, whatever... shit, i think i'm gonna puke."

mikey's shoulder shook a little as he laughed, almost covering up the sound of frank shutting the bathroom door behind him. you smiled, shifting around a little so that your head was on the pillow beside mikey's hip. you could hear the smile still in his voice when he stroked the space between your brows with his knuckle and whispered softly to you.

"night."

[sneppu]

Hello! Welcome to The Sneep Zone

You may call me Nagi

Main blog: @nagoo (I'm also on Bluesky! absolutely NO MINORS on the bluesky, no exceptions. nsfw art will be going there.)

@headmasterseverussnape is my beloved

u better be able to tell fiction from reality i stg.

first and foremost: fuck jkr. i do not endorse her. i do not agree with her. we dont do that weird shit here.

we do different weird shit instead (bask in the decadence of The Sneep)

This sideblog is for me to post all my Snape art and Snape related ramblings! I am addicted to snape fics, and have found myself needing to make fanart for some of my favorite writers. such things will be posted here!

Severus Snape is my favorite guy!

I am known to refer to him as: Sneep, Snorp, Sneb, The Sneberous Sneb, The Snebulous One, He Who Sneeps In The Dark, SneepSnorp, Mother, Sneppu, El Sneepo, Snorpo, Snib, The Best One, The Only One That Matters, precious beloved sneep, Babygirl, etc.

rest assured, I am talking about Severus Snape every single time

I ship him with everyone! yes, even [insert character]. I always tag ships so block the tag or w/e if theres one you dont like.

I truly and genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, do not care even a little bit about The Grievances u may have about my ships or my sneeps. I cannot stress enough how much that is not my problem. If you're the type to throw a tantrum over ships and fictional content I'm just gonna block you tbh.

Dark/Fucky content WILL be found on this blog. Snape was practically MADE for that shit and I like to project my traumas onto him so like. ykno. I expect ppl with critical thinking on here ONLY.

in my ideal world, everyone would love and cherish Sneep. I tend to focus on marauder's era Snape

not to be rude, but i kind of only care about Snape really. the slytherins are cool and chill too (especially Lucius, Rosier, and Mulciber), but i mostly care about how they interact with and potentially fall in love with The Sneep. the marauders are rat bastards and i ship them with Snape in a "grovel eternally for the scraps of his affection" kind of way. I am not sorry.

dont expect nothing serious from me unless im waxing poetic about Snape or heavily projecting my own Tragic Past onto him tbh, and even then...

i have zero interest in any debates whatsoever. i cannot emphasize this enough, my thoughts are disjointed and nonsensical. The mere thought of having a serious debate about anything is stressful and unpleasant. I mean it as kindly as possible when I say it makes my eyes glaze over.

i am just here to draw Snape and shitpost about my favorite little guy.

i dont care that he's mean.

he shouldve been meaner, actually.

he's better than me and he's probably better than you too, because i wouldve absolutely lost it big boy style.

Art tag: #nagi nyart

Have you ever written a fanfic about Severus Snape? If so, please PLEASE read this post Here

this shouldnt even have to be said but please do not??? take me stuffs and completely re-upload it without credit or permission?? dont do that to anyone, actually? like idk basic courtesy towards artists or w/e. you know better, i know you do.

BUT that said.. using my stuff for your header or profile pic is fine with credit somewhere easily visible, like the profile description, or pinned post!

[blake-the-shadow]

thank you for the tag!!

tagging... uhm. anyone who wants to do it :3

Sometimes I like to start a Picrew train soooo here we go.

Picrew - super cute ☺️

Npt @nunanuggets @moonlight-huntress @raevulsix @padawancat97 @arctrooper69 @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @the-bad-batch-baroness @eyecandyeoz @kimageddon @justalittletomato @by-the-primes @echos-girlfriend @captxin-rex @mustluvecho and whoever else wants to join ♥️

[softmamawrites]

Love Within These Halls: Part 3

The 3rd installment for LWTH, not nearly enough Brenny in here. but there is more Curt/Ken, and more Marge.

Warnings: inaccurate court case proceedings (I did my absolute best with it), religious trauma, religious discussions, discussions of peeing, peeing (not in a sexual way), discussions of erectile dysfunction medications, slightly mean power bottom!Gale (he’s a warning, I don’t make the rules), sexual situations, medical jargon, discussions of bipolar cycling, discussions of depression, John being a sad boy

Word count: 20.7k - every time I tell myself I’m not going to go too long again. and I do, I’m so sorry 😬

Moodboard by me

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Thank you goes to @trashbag-baby666 for listening to me ramble about these boys. 💕

“John, stop fidgeting…you look okay.” Gale murmurs as he adjusts John’s tie carefully, brushing his hands over the older’s shoulders. The black haired boy sitting in his chair, dressed for a court date he had no want to be at. The summons having come almost six weeks ago, a lawyer’s name and number attached to the bottom. Both him and Curt had sat together to call, Gale and Ken there for support. Listening to the options, listening as the lawyer read off the charges, before asking John if they could access his medical records. John had stammered out an answer, he couldn’t even remember what he said.

But him and Curt had been in and out of the lawyer’s office for almost a month now, Gale tagging along when he could. If not Gale then Ken was coming, it seemed neither of the black haired boys could handle going by themselves. They had tried once, and it ended in them both numbly sitting in the parking lot for almost an hour. Ken having pulled up by Curt’s car with Gale in the passenger seat, Gale getting into Curt’s car while Curt got put into Ken’s.

The meetings with the lawyers, Paula and Wesley, had drug on and on. Combing through everything they could, asking a million and one questions. John fighting hard to not disassociate in his chair in the office, while Curt had tried hard to reign in his anger. The older black haired boy having lost it when they told them that Ham was trying to go for lesser charges. Declining that he caused any injury to John, it was John’s choice to get into the vehicle that night, all three of them had been drinking, so all three of them should be held accountable.

It made John question everything, his head was in a tail spin. Asking if he deserved for this to happen, he had been drinking that night, the party they had gone to was handing cups out like Halloween candy. A Valentine’s Day rager, and it had been fun, John had had fun. He didn’t even remember getting into the jeep that night, just knew that Ham was taking them home. It was no different than any other night the three of them ended up going out together. It just had a vastly different ending than the other nights they had had in the past.

“I don’t want to go Gale.” John whispers as he sits there, the blond sitting on the side of the bed. Brushing his fingers, coated with John’s orange scented pomade, through his curls to get them tamed. The blond takes a deep breath as he looks at the older boy, seeing the terror in his eyes. John had been quiet lately, but Gale had also not wanted to pry, he was there for John if he needed him. Gale leans forward and rests his forehead against John’s gently, breathing deeply.

“I know you don’t…we can call Paula and tell her it isn’t going to work out. It’s up to you John.” The younger says softly, bringing his clean hand up to gently massage the other boy’s neck. Rubbing his thumb into the side under his ear softly, feeling the deep breath that John drags in. Lips quivering as he tries not to cry, blinking away the hot wetness burning his eyeballs.

He had chosen to wear his glasses today, his eyes were too dry to put his contacts in. Both boys look over when there’s a knock on the door, seeing Curt standing there in his own suit. They all looked like they were dressed for a funeral, and they were in a sense. The funeral of a friendship that was forged on unhealthy habits, murdered by a careless set of hands.

“You twos ready to go?” Curt asks quietly, his entire demeanor had changed over the last few weeks. His eyes weren’t as bright, the bags under them returning, he was having nightmares again. Something John felt awful about, he couldn’t get out of bed fast enough to help his friend. Not the way Curt could with him, they had shared a bed a few times when Ken or Gale weren’t over. Just needing someone else there to help shake them awake from whatever hell was playing in their minds that night.

“Are you ready John?” Gale questions, looking at his boyfriend’s profile, watching as he stares at Curt. Before he’s turning his head to look at Gale, nodding softly and seeing the nod he gets in return. The three of them head out of the apartment, going for Curt’s car, Ken had to work but would be meeting them there. Gale is climbing into the back once John is situated in the front seat.

Reaching up to gently take John’s hand in his own, before he’s resting his other hand on Curt’s elbow. The oldest boy driving them to the court house, seeing Ken’s car and parking nearby. Just in case Curt couldn’t drive home afterwards, Paula and Wesley both waiting by the elevators for them.

“Good morning boys, thank you for coming here today. I know it isn’t easy, today is going to be a lot of us lawyers talking. Deliberating, arguing, we most likely won’t be needing to hear from either of you. Tomorrow will be the testimonies, that’s when we’ll potentially call you up to the stand. The defendant’s team hasn’t fully stated if they’ll pull both of you, one of you, or neither of you up. But it’ll be just like we’ve been practicing. Hopefully we won’t need three days, hopefully we can get this settled today or tomorrow.“ Paula says as she looks at the four of them, nodding softly as she connects eyes with Curt and John. Before they’re turning and stepping into the elevator, holding the door so John can get wheeled in. The small group making their way through the halls, Paula’s heels clicking. While Wesley walks next to her talking quietly, holding file folders of information. Curt and Ken holding hands while they walk next to John and Gale, the blond gently resting his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Deep breaths boys, we’re with you every step of the way. You’ll be in the seats behind us, we special requested space for your chair to fit John.” Wesley says as he looks at the boy, making him nod softly. He was getting used to being treated like he was a special case, like he needed to be handled with kid gloves. It happened at the grocery store, the restaurants, even the doctor’s office a few times. The doors get opened for them to walk in, going to find their seats. Ken on one side of Curt, while Gale sits on the other side of John. Keeping their boys between them, hands being held in laps quietly.

They wait silently together, Paula and Wesley sitting in front of them at their table. Going over notes, referencing things, speaking in a jargon none of the boys can understand. Gale turns his head when he hears the doors opening again, seeing more people walking in. It isn’t until he feels John stiffen next to him, and Curt’s whispered obscenity. That Gale is turning his head back to look at John, the color from his face having completely drained. Jaw clenched so tightly he’s worried the older boy might crack a tooth. The blond is turning his head back to try and see, before it’s like the Red Sea is parting. And a tall, lanky blond boy is being shown to his critical gaze, he sees a scar running the side of his face. Before he’s opening his mouth to say something to his lawyer, a golden tooth being exposed.

John’s stomach is in knots, his hand is gripping his thigh tightly, finger tips digging into the muscle. Eyes watching as Ham walks into the court room, his hair still having the same cut, longer on the top than on the sides. But he’s got a scar that’s running the length of his cheek now, that stupid gold tooth still in place. He looks like this is another Tuesday for him, being led to the other side of the room. Not even sparing a glance at John and Curt, talking with his lawyers. He looks down when he feels a hand wrapping around his, Gale’s fingers gently prying his away from his leg.

Slotting together so that he can squeeze his boy’s hand instead of his own leg. He feels Curt’s hand coming down to wrap around his own, a little quiver to the other boy’s arm. Ken on his other side murmuring softly in Curt’s ear, his arm having wound around the black haired boy’s waist. John turns his head back to look at Gale, seeing the worried expression in his blue eyes. Breathing deeply and loosening his grip on the blond’s hand, before he feels the soothing swipes of Gale’s thumb brushing across his knuckles.

“I love you.” Gale whispers before their attention is getting pulled to the front as a judge enters the room. The older woman going to her seat, everyone having risen once she entered. Everyone except for John, and when everyone sits down, he feels it. Eyes are on him, lifting his head he sees Ham staring at him from his seat. An almost impassive expression on the golden blond haired boy’s face, before he’s looking away in disinterest.

People are talking around him, but it’s all buzzing in his ears. Hearing Paula’s voice, but not able to make out what she’s saying. The other lawyer making his case to the jury, men and women who have no idea what happened. They have no idea how much John’s life got flipped upside down, they have no idea what was taken from him that night. It leaves John floundering slightly as he sits there, eyes unseeing, brain unable to compute what he’s hearing. It’s mindless chatter at this point, the only thing John can feel is the swiping of Gale’s thumb over his pulse point.

—————————

“It’s up to you both if you want to read off your statements, the other lawyer isn’t interested in you testifying. But, I think the jury needs to hear from you both, I think it would help. It makes it more personal, makes it more human.” Wesley says as the little group sits in a conference room eating lunch the next day. The day before had been filled with information, facts being spewed from both sides. John had filtered in and out for the majority of it, he couldn’t bring himself to pay too much attention. But today was different, today him and Curt would potentially be taking the stand to read their ‘Victim Impact Statements’. Curt scoffs softly from where he’s sitting, poking around at the Chinese food in front of him.

“What you want is us to get up there and cry; to tell them how I still have nightmares of that night. You want John to wheel up there so the jury feels bad. So they can see how fucked we both are.” The black haired boy states, a bitter edge to his tone, dropping his chopsticks. Rising from his seat and muttering about the bathroom before he’s out of the room. Ken murmuring a soft apology before he’s getting up to follow his boyfriend. Gale watching them both go, chewing on his lower lip as he sits there. Before he turns his head to look at John, seeing the way he’s pushing around his noodles. A frown on his face, eyebrows bunched together, Paula clears her throat softly.

“It would garner sympathy to have you go up and read. But it would also show the jury exactly what he took from you. I’ve read your statement John, he didn’t just take your ability to walk. He broke a friendship, he showed how negligent he is, he could have killed you that night. It shows them how strong you are, to be sitting here today, to have the guts to go up there and tell them. It makes him look at you, it makes him face a consequence. Something he has never had to do, it makes it real, and he can’t argue that. They can’t argue with the medical documents, they can’t argue with the proof sitting right in front of them.” Paula states, looking at the wheel chair bound boy, he takes a deep shuddering breath. Setting his own chopsticks down and lifting his head to meet her gaze. Emotion clear on his features, deep blue eyes a little watery, she nods softly at him. Gently offering him a napkin to wipe his face with, Gale softly resting his hand between John’s shoulders. Rubbing gently, bringing his hand up to carefully scratch through the back of John’s curls.

“It’s up to you sweetheart, nobody is forcing you to do this.” Gale says softly as he presses a kiss to the side of John’s head. The older boy turning his face and taking a few deep breaths, the familiar vanilla and citrus scent of Gale bringing his heart rate down. His face tucked into the blond’s throat, Gale’s chin resting over John’s head. His fingers still massaging and scratching through the base of Bucky’s curls. The four of them sitting in the quiet conference room, waiting for Curt and Ken to come back. The door opening a little while later, Curt’s face having been washed, Ken’s shirt a little wet from the older boy’s tears.

“I’m reading my statement…even if you don’t Curt. He deserves to hear and see what he did to me. I’ll support you in whatever you choose to do.” John voices softly as he looks at his best friend, the other black haired boy staring at him. Nodding his head slightly in agreement, wiping his face while sitting down. Taking a deep breath as he adjusts his suit jacket, brushing down his tie. Ken softy brushes Curt’s hair back, fixing it back into its even coif.

“I’ll read mine too, you’re right John. He deserves to see and hear what he put us through.” Paula nods softly and smiles a bit as she looks at them, sitting back in her chair. Murmuring something to Wesley, the brunet man getting up quietly and leaving the room. Gale runs his thumb over John’s jaw gently, feeling the barely there stubble poking back at him. John had been too tired to shave his face that morning, declining when Gale offered to help him. The blond boy gently slides John’s glass of water to him, knowing he’s not been drinking enough. John looks at him before he reaches for Gale’s water, sliding it over to the blond.

“What…Benny? Little John what are you two doing here?” John asks as he sees the two in the lobby of the court house, Meatball sitting patiently next to Benny. Gale smiling softly when he sees them, Brady giving him a brave smile. His and Benny’s pinkies interlocked as they stand side by side, not quite touching but close enough.

“Gale told me about a therapy dog that helped you while you were in rehab. I thought it would be good to have him come to the courtroom today to sit with you.” Wesley states as he looks at John, nodding softly and smiling gently. John looking up at his boyfriend, seeing the little bashful expression on his face. Everyone else beginning to head into the room, John gently grabbing for Gale’s fingers. The blond boy stops and turns back to look at the older boy, a furrow to his eyebrows as he assesses what he can without words.

“I haven’t thanked you for doing all of this. For being here for me…these last few weeks would have been a lot harder without you. Thank you Gale, I love you.” John says softly before he’s leaning up to tilt his head for a kiss, Gale melting a little. Stepping forward and pressing his lips against John’s, cupping his cheek softly and brushing his thumb against the bone sitting there. Their foreheads pressing together for just a moment before Gale is standing up again, straightening out John’s tie. Brushing his hands over his shoulders, both of them taking deep breaths.

“I love you too John.” Gale replies before they’re heading into the courtroom, going to find their seats. Meatball happily sitting next to Curt now, the boy petting between his ears softly. Everyone waiting for the judge to come back into the room, Gale carefully helping John situate himself. Meatball inching closer so he’s sitting between John and Curt now, Benny and Brady in the seats behind them. Brady gently touches John’s shoulder, getting the older boy to turn as much as his stiff shoulders will allow. Smiling gratefully at the younger brunet, before the judge is entering from her chambers.

—————————

‘I Curtis J Biddick, stand before you today to talk to you about the effects of the event that happened on February 14th, 2024. I was in a car accident with two of my best friends, drunk driving to be specific. I was sitting in the backseat behind the driver, Howard Hamilton, and while I sustained minimal physical injury. A broken nose, whiplash, concussion, and some stitches. My mental health deteriorated because of it, I’ve had nightmares, PTSD episodes, anxiety attacks, and I couldn’t drive in a car for almost two months afterwards. I still remember the smell of the engine burning, the sounds of John screaming, I couldn’t see anything because of the concussion. I couldn’t get out of the car because my seatbelt locked itself, I had to wait and listen as John screamed. He screamed himself hoarse until he passed out, and the ambulances arrived. They had to cut me out of the car, I remember the helicopter landing in the road. Having to airlift John out because of how injured he was. I’m here today to tell you that what I did was wrong, I got into a car after drinking. I shouldn’t have done that, I should have called an Uber or walked home. I made my choices and now I have to live with that for the rest of my life.’

‘I, John Clarence Egan, am in front of you today because of a drunk driving accident that took place on February 14th, 2024. I was a passenger in the vehicle, that Howard Hamilton was driving, and when we hit the tree, my belt snapped. Sending me flying through the windshield, I don’t remember anything after that moment. But I do remember waking up in the hospital almost six days later, with my sister sitting next to me. Crying because she didn’t know if I was going to wake up, doctors and nurses couldn’t give her an answer. I remember the neurosurgeon coming into my room and telling me that I was partially paralyzed from the waist down. I remember not being able to feel my legs for almost two weeks, and when the feeling did come back, it’s now a tingling feeling constantly. I lived in a rehabilitation facility for almost six months, learning how to take care of myself again. Learning how to shower by myself, use the restroom by myself, having to complete hours upon hours of physical therapy. Taking copious different medications to manage the pain that I’m in every day, while still having to figure out how I’m going to get around. I’ve lived 189 days in this chair now, learning to become a new version of myself because I made a bad choice. I got into a car when I shouldn’t have, I trusted someone I shouldn’t have. I made a mistake and I’m paying for that every single day that I’m breathing.’

————————

“We the jury, find Howard B. Hamilton guilty in the following charges: operating a vehicle while intoxicated, operating a vehicle while intoxicated with passengers, assault with a vehicle while intoxicated, property damage while operating a vehicle while intoxicated.” The lead juror says as she stands, holding the slip of paper. Curt letting out the breath he was holding, while John’s jaw drops just slightly. Gale squeezing his hand gently, all of them turning their gazes to look at the judge. Seeing her writing on slips of paper, signing her name on things.

“These acts will all be punishable with up to five years in prison, eligible for parole after two and a half years have been served, 100,000 dollars in fines, as well as awarding 50,000 dollars to both Curtis J Biddick and John C Egan each. Court adjourned.” The judge says as she smacks her gavel down, Ham’s jaw having dropped as he sat there. His lawyers talking to one another, looking a little frantic. Paula and Wesley both turning to look at their little ragtag group. Ken hugging a sobbing Curt, trying to soothe the boy with tender touches. While Gale is hugging John, the boy in complete shock as he sits there, his arms loosely around his boyfriend’s waist.

“Are you okay?” Gale asks as he hugs John, gripping him tightly, feeling the little nod John gives him. Pulling away to look at the black haired boy’s face, brushing his hair back from his forehead. Worried at the off centered look in John’s eyes, but knowing the last almost seven weeks has been a handful. The older boy just needing a minute to take everything in, to work through it and process it.

Curt turns his body to wrap John in a hug, squeezing him while he takes in shuddering breaths. Ken and Gale both sharing a look, knowing that just because this portion of their life is a closed chapter for the moment. The aftermath of it won’t be, it’ll take time for it to mend itself back together. Both of the blonds knowing they’re going to be dealing with the effects from all of this for a little while. The four of them getting ready to head out of the court house, both Janie and Janelle waiting at John and Curt’s apartment. Brady and Benny heading over with Meatball, dinner having been ordered for them all.

Gale carefully helps John move his chair, having been slightly wedged in today. Curt and Ken saying they’re going to get the car, but really just needing a minute away from all the noise. While Paula turns her body to look at the boys, patting Curt’s shoulder gently and nodding at him. Before she’s looking at John, Gale helping him into the aisle now.

“Oh, John, I meant to tell you this earlier, if you ever want to take your medical malpractice suit to court. You give me a call, I will gladly take your case pro bono. What happened to you in the hospital was not okay, and you deserve something from it. Even if it’s just peace of mind that those assholes won’t ever touch another patient.” Paula says as she looks at the boy, Gale’s eyebrows furrowing as he looks at her.

Confused before he’s turning his head to look back at John, seeing the shocked expression on John’s face as well. The platinum blonde woman nods her head softly at him, before she’s slipping her card into his hand. Wesley stepping back over to take her attention towards himself, discussing a few last minute paperwork details. John slowly beginning to wheel himself out of the court room with Gale right on his heels.

“What is she talking about John? What medical malpractice issues?” The younger boy asks, following his boyfriend to the parking garage. Ken having taken Curt with him, Curt leaving his keys with Gale to bring John home. The black haired boy makes a quiet sound, shrugging just a little bit. Pushing the button for the elevator to take them down to the ground floor. Both of them getting into the lift once the doors have opened.

“I don’t remember most of it Buck, so it wouldn’t matter anyways. Can’t testify for something I don’t remember.” John explains once the doors have closed and they’re the only two in the elevator. Gale looking at him, his lean arms crossed over his chest, frowning softly. Knowing exactly what John is doing, the set to his shoulders telling Gale everything he needed to know. John may not have remembered everything that happened, but he remembered enough of it for him to push it down.

————————

“You didn’t have to bring her flowers Buck, honestly I think she’s just happy I’m finally coming home.” John says as Gale pulls Curt’s highlander into the Egan’s driveway, staring up at the beautiful cream colored house. The lawn well cared for, rose bushes in full bloom, a white picket fence surrounding the front yard. John looks up from where he’s been staring at the beautiful bouquet of flowers Gale picked out for his mom. Seeing Janelle bounding out onto the porch with a wide smile on her face, waving happily at them.

“I know I didn’t have to bring her flowers. But it was the polite thing to do John.” Gale replies as he parks the car, breathing deeply and looking at his boyfriend. Seeing him staring at the porch, a frown etched onto John’s face. Gale looking over to see Janelle, before he sees the stairs, four wooden steps that would create a very big obstacle. Taking a deep breath he gets out of the car, going around back to grab John’s chair. Janelle stepping down from the porch to come and help them both, a little pep to her step like always.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get up the stairs.” John states once he’s transferred himself into his chair, Gale looking at the wooden steps again before he looks at his boyfriend. Chewing on his lower lip and taking a deep breath, Janelle humming softly next to them. John looking up when the screen door opens and shows off his mother stepping onto the porch. A pretty blue sun dress covering her body, white apron wrapped around her waist, a smile gracing her lips.

“Is that my Johnny?!” She calls before heading down the stairs, Gale watching as she walks over. Her black curly hair pinned up, makeup on her face, red lipstick painting her full lips. Gale could see where John got some of his features, they had the same eyes, even the same cheekbones. Their hair looked similar enough, but she looked more like Janie did. Janelle must look like their father and John was a mixture of both of his parents. The woman stood in front of her son, smiling softly as she looks at him, before she’s wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Squeezing him tightly to her body, Gale not missing the wince that crosses John’s expression.

“Hi ma…Gale this is Dorris Egan, Dorris Egan this is Gale, my boyfriend.” John introduces once she’s let him go, Gale watching as she stands up straight. She couldn’t be more than 5 feet tall, John was nearly the same height as her while sitting in his chair. He could see where Janelle got her height from, both of them were small in stature. Mrs. Egan just had a wider set of hips, a more motherly figure, while Janelle was still a slightly awkward 17 year old girl. The woman turns her face to look up at him, startling blue eyes staring at him. Making him almost want to shy away, before she’s suddenly stepping around her son’s chair to hug him too.

“It’s so nice to meet you Gale, Johnny has told me a lot about you.” She coos, gently patting his back before she lets him go. Stepping back to look at her son again, smiling when she sees him. Before Gale is offering the flowers up to her, his heart pitter pattering in his chest. Stomach in knots, his palms were a little sweaty while he stared at his boyfriend’s mother. He didn’t know the full story on why she never came to visit John in rehab, or since he’d been home honestly. But he did know that John loved her, he spoke of her in a tender voice. Not as fondly as he spoke of Janie, or even Janelle at times, but she was still his mom.

“John told me you have a green thumb. And I thought they looked beautiful.” Gale says smiling at her, she hums appreciatively. Accepting them from him and giving them a sniff, Janelle holding in her giggle at just how nervous the blond is. Sharing a look with her brother, before everyone is heading for the stairs. Gale and John staring at them, wishing briefly they could have gone to a restaurant instead. Janelle chews on her lower lip, while Mrs. Egan turns to look down at them from the top of the stairs.

“Oh…maybe the back steps would be better? Not as steep…you’ll just have to get through the grass.” The woman says, a frown etching onto her features as she looks at the three of them. John taking a deep breath and nodding his head a bit, wheeling himself backwards before trying to head towards the backyard. Gale and Janelle both following him, Gale quietly going to push his chair through the uneven ground.

“I told her, I told her to tell dad to get a ramp thing. Even just one of those folding ones, but she doesn’t listen to me.” Janelle grumbles as she walks next to John, the black haired boy grunting at the dip in the grass jarring his spine. Gale murmuring a soft apology, trying to keep it as smooth as possible as they go. Mrs. Egan already waiting at the back door for them, holding open the screen door. Before Gale is pulling John backwards to the bottom step, John frowning a little bit as he looks up at his boyfriend.

“I’ve been meaning to go to the gym anyways.” The blond insists, making a little smile crack his boyfriend’s face, a fond roll of his eyes following. Before they are working to get John up the back steps, two concrete steps leading up onto a wood floor. Gale grunting softly as he works, Janelle making sure John doesn’t spill out the front, while John tries to help anyway he can. Guilt sitting heavy in his stomach like a fist, knowing he should have suggested something else. Gale lets out a soft puff of air once they’ve gotten him into the house, leaning on the chair for just a second.

“I tried to make it as accessible as possible. But, you know mom and her stuff.” Janelle apologizes as she looks at her brother, closing the door behind herself. Mrs. Egan off getting Gale a glass of water, the black haired boy looks at his sister. Before he’s trying to look at his boyfriend, listening to the little panting breaths that Gale is releasing. Sweat having beaded on his brow, strands of hair having come loose from his low bun.

“I’m sorry baby.” John murmurs, the blond shaking his head quickly. Standing up straight when they hear Mrs. Egan coming into the back area again. Her shoes clicking on the floor as she walks, her voice carrying as she goes. John brings Gale’s hand up to press a soft, apologetic kiss to the inner part of his wrist. Feeling how fast and hard the blond’s heart is thudding through his pulse.

“I hope you like steak Gale, I’m making a steak dinner tonight. To celebrate Johnny coming home.” Mrs. Egan says as she offers up the glass of water to him, the boy taking it and sipping at it slowly. A nervous bubble forming in his stomach at having to eat in front of them, almost everyone he ate with knew of his battle. But he didn’t think that John had told his family, at the little glance John sends his way he knows he didn’t.

“Yes Mrs. Egan, steak sounds lovely. Thank you.” Gale responds, smiling at her sweetly before she’s hushing him slightly. Waving her hand and insisting he call her Dorris or Mama Egan as Curt calls her all of the time. It isn’t long before John and Gale are finding themselves in the living room, one of the chairs having been pushed to the side by Janelle. Mrs. Egan coming out a few minutes later, cooing about a photo album. Causing a low groan to come from deep within John’s chest, his ears beginning to turn red.

“Johnny was such a cute baby, look at him.” Mrs. Egan hums as she shows Gale pictures, sitting near him. The blond smiling as he looks, chuckling when he sees a baby John, the same blue eyes. And the same Dumbo ears, tufts of lighter brown hair on his head, a smile on his face. Flipping through pages to see lots of them filled with John and Janie, the older girl doting on him in the majority of them. John groaning again when they get to pictures of him as a child, these ones having Curt in them now. Some of them with Janie and a baby Janelle at certain points, Gale chuckling when he sees one of John and Curt naked getting ready to jump off a dock.

“Oh I swear, Curt was like my second son. He came everywhere with us, we took him up to the lake cabin with us every summer. His Nan is a sweet lady, and he’s a sweet boy too.” John and Gale share a look, stifling laughter as they think of said ‘sweet boy’. Mrs. Egan flipping more pages slowly, smiling as she gets to John’s middle school years. Little John in football gear next to Curt, both of them smiling widely. Braces on John’s teeth, the rubber bands matching his football jersey colors. Going through more pages, shows John aging, growing more into a gangly limbed teenager. The progression slightly shocking to Gale, seeing as John becomes more and more broad. Towering over his sisters and Curt in pictures, something Gale has never seen before. Having never seen John stand fully straight, anytime he had to transfer he hunched his shoulders from the pain.

“Dad’s home.” Janelle announces as she comes down the stairs a little while later, Mrs. Egan having gone to the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. Leaving Gale with another photo album to flip through, this one a lot of Curt and John through the years. John murmuring about the memories, filling in any blanks that arise. Telling Gale about the lake cabin, how it would be nice to go back, it was his favorite place to be. He loved hiking the trails, him and Curt would find a new one every summer.

“Hi dear, did you have a good day?” Mrs. Egan asks from the kitchen, John tensing slightly at the sound of the door closing. Knowing his dad went through the garage to come inside, he always did. Always parked the car in the garage, undid his tie in the car, grabbed his brief case, and came inside with his suit jacket over his arm. Before he’d come into the dining room and then the kitchen to press a kiss to his wife’s cheek. She always had dinner on the table 30 minutes after he’d get home, give him enough time to freshen up. Before he’d even say hello to any of his children, the first time he’d see them for the day would be at the dinner table waiting for him.

“Yes dear, whose car is that in the driveway?” John Sr asks as he sets down his brief case on the bench by the garage door. Janelle rolling her eyes slightly, her father knew exactly who was over for a visit. She had written it on the calendar hanging by the fridge in big bubble letters. She had even written it on the monthly calendar she did at John and Curt’s house. A giant whiteboard sitting in their kitchen area, color coded, housing everyone’s schedules. Just like she did for rehab, but this time she left room for Gale to add little doodles if he wanted. Curt always ended up writing some curse word on there, he came up with some very creative ones.

“Oh it’s Curt’s car, but Johnny and Gale burrowed it for the day to come see us. You remember don’t you honey? They’re having dinner here tonight.” Mrs. Egan says, receiving a hum of recognition from her husband. Before he’s going to do his routine, Gale looking at John in slight confusion. The older boy shaking his head a bit, knowing his dad inside and out by now. He knew the man did not deviate from his after work routine, he wasn’t expecting to see him until dinner. Janelle huffs softly and looks at her brother before looking at Gale and going into detail about it all.

“Janelle please come set the table!” Mrs. Egan calls about 20 minutes later, the girl getting up from her spot in the chair. Heading for the dining room, the sound of some chairs scraping loudly being heard. John chuckling softly at his sister’s antics, knowing she’s doing it on purpose to piss their dad off. Gale raising his eyebrows as he looks at his boyfriend again, seeing the little smirk on his lips. John slowly navigates his chair towards the dining room, trying not to run into anything. While Gale walks behind him, making sure if he does bump into anything he can fix it right away. The house was immaculate, he didn’t even see dust on the banisters.

“Gale, this is John Sr, John Sr this is Gale…my boyfriend.” John says once they are in the dining room, Gale looking up to meet steel blue eyes. Gale had never believed in someone’s stare being cold before, but that was exactly what John Sr’s eyes reminded him of. They were analyzing everything, looking over Gale like he was a number to crunch. Suddenly Gale feels self conscious, he should have checked his hair in the bathroom, or he should have worn a different shirt. He doesn’t want to break the eye contact first, doesn’t want to seem weak in front of the older man.

“Hello Gale, you can call me Mr. Egan. My son doesn’t have very good manners it would seem.” John holds back his sigh, adjusting himself in his chair and making sure he doesn’t hit the table at all. Trying not to disrupt his mother’s hard work, the table set beautifully, food waiting to be had. All of it smelt like home, it made John miss his mother’s cooking, but it also brought back the memories of tense dinners. Which was how this one was beginning to feel, Gale sitting across from him by Janelle. John Sr at the head of the table with Dorris sitting on his right, Janelle on his left.

“Hello Mr. Egan, thank you for having me.” Gale says nodding softly as he looks at the older man, before Mrs. Egan is serving everyone food. John Sr watching his son, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. Seeing how John’s hands shake just a little while he helps his mother by passing a few dishes. The barely there hunch to his shoulders, the rise and fall of John’s chest, Janelle cutting up her own food.

Before John Sr is looking at Gale, seeing the little squirm to his body. The blond shifting in his seat once Dorris has filled his plate with food. Looking slightly uncomfortable as he picks up his fork, causing John Sr to raise his eyebrow. Cutting into his own steak, watching the blond boy, seeing the way he’s chewing slowly. John looking at the other boy, a slightly worried expression on his face as he eats his own food. Wishing he could put his foot over to touch Gale, wanting to give him comfort somehow.

“Is your food not good Gale?” John Sr asks, looking at the boy before he eats another piece of his steak. Mrs. Egan looking up from her own plate, eyebrows furrowing as she looks at the blond boy. Watching the way Gale raises his head, eyes slightly widened as he sits there. Swallowing his food slowly, and clearing his throat, already shaking his head.

“N no Mr. Egan, it’s wonderful. Thank you Mrs. Egan for cooking such an amazing meal.” Gale responds, his stomach twisting uncomfortably, Janelle frowning a bit as she sits there. Looking at her father, getting ready to open her mouth before John is beating her to it.

“Leave him be, he’s eating his food. It’s really good ma, thank you.” The black haired boy says as he looks at his mother, making his father turn his critical gaze on him. John feeling his shoulders tense, he didn’t want his father ripping Gale apart. Especially not with how much progress Gale had been making recently when it came to eating. He had been working hard with Maureen, even gaining a few pounds since he’d been released from rehab and John was incredibly proud of him.

“How much longer will you be in the chair John? Your mother has been talking about going to church again as a family, and she wants you there.“ John feels his jaw tense at the question, he didn’t talk about religion with anyone. He had a complicated relationship with it, especially after the accident. His mom had begged him to let the pastor from their church come in to pray over him. John had refused every time, he did not want someone praying over him. He had never believed there was a God out there, and the accident solidified that for him. If there was a God, then why would He take away John’s future the way He did?

“I don’t know…the physical therapists are working on it. You know how I feel about going to church.” John says the ending softly, not wanting to upset his mother or hurt her feelings. His eyes closing as he hears his father setting down his knife and fork. The clatter of the metal against the glass bringing him back to his childhood. He knew if he looked up, his dad would have his hands interlaced over his plate. With his steel blue eyes looking directly at his son with the disapproving look that John had gotten pretty good at ignoring.

“And how do you feel about church and God John? You were raised in a Catholic home, you should be at church every week. Especially considering everything.” Janelle’s fingers clench slightly on the table, Gale having stopped eating. Looking between the two black haired men, seeing as John’s shoulders drop just slightly. Watching as John Sr waits for his answer, his bushy eyebrow raised in questioning. John opening his eyes to look at his father, his mouth set into a slight scowl. Setting his own cutlery down on the table, seeing how his mother shifts next to him.

“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t of laid with a man. I know this boy here isn’t your first, I always told your mother to not let that Biddick boy stay over so often. This is your punishment, your future is gone, you now have to face those consequences. Going to church to repent for your sins will make you feel better.” John Sr continues speaking, Gale’s stomach revolts slightly. Fighting the urge to let his jaw drop, his eyes flicking over to his boyfriend. Watching as he takes a deep breath, leaning over to press a kiss to his mother’s cheek. Before he’s taking his napkin off of his lap, slowly pushing himself away from the table. Hands on his wheels as he tries to look over his shoulder, not wanting to run into anything.

“Thank you for dinner ma, I love you. I will see you later.” He states quietly before he’s beginning to wheel himself from the room. Gale looks at John, before he’s setting down his own silverware, knowing the boy won’t be able to make the sharp turn from the dining room into the living room. Standing quietly, murmuring his thank you to Mrs. Egan, before he’s going to help John. Janelle glaring at her father, her own steel blue eyes venomous as she pushes from the table roughly. Gale and John both out on the front porch now, Gale trying to figure out how to get them down.

“Going backwards is what’s going to be best. Can you keep your hands on the wheels so they don’t spin and knock me down?” The blond asks as he looks at his boyfriend, seeing the far off look in his eyes. His arms crossed over his chest loosely, Gale chewing on his lower lip as he carefully goes to spin the chair around. Looking up when Janelle slams the front screen open, letting it slam into the wall. Cursing softly under her breath at her father, before she’s looking at her brother and his boyfriend. Huffing quietly, stepping behind John’s chair to help Gale carefully get John down the stairs.

“Slow, don’t jostle him too much, I don’t want to jar his back. He’ll be hurting way worse later if we do.” Gale voices quietly, not wanting to talk about John right in front of him, but knowing that John isn’t there with them right now either. They get him down one step, before the door is opening again. Mrs. Egan stepping out, her face softening when she sees them. Janelle huffing quietly again, both her and Gale struggling slightly under John’s weight. The momentum of the stairs making him feel heavier combined with his chair.

“What can I do to help?” Dorris asks as she looks at them, Gale taking a deep breath, using his own body weight to keep them from tumbling backwards. Janelle using her own body to try to keep them from rolling down too fast.

“Can you grab the wheel in the front there? It’ll keep them from rolling too fast, I don’t want us all to go flying. John I need you to grab the other one…please, I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

She nods her head, stepping over to take one wheel, while John numbly brings his hand down to hold the other. Gale letting out a quiet breath, thankful that his boyfriend is present enough to help them. While John is distantly hoping nobody is outside to watch them, there was a lot of space between houses, but it didn’t mean someone wouldn’t walk by. The four of them get John and his chair down the stairs, Gale and Janelle panting softly once they’re down. Before John is carefully turning himself to begin wheeling towards Curt’s car. His mother watching him go, Janelle following him and Gale to the car just in case they need help.

“I love you J.” Janelle murmurs once he’s in the car, leaning in to give him a hug. Gale putting the wheelchair in the trunk, Mrs. Egan still standing by the steps watching them. Fighting to keep the tears out of her eyes, looking at her children with sadness. Gale closing the trunk and stepping around to the driver’s side door.

“I love you too Jelly Bean.” John responds, receiving a kiss to his forehead. Before he’s pressing one to her cheek, breathing deeply as he does. Janelle reaching across to gently grip Gale’s arm, squeezing softly and smiling at him sadly. He gives her a faint smile back, looking at John with slight worry, before he’s accepting the black haired boy’s hand in his own. Janelle gently closing the car door and watching them pull out of the driveway. Looking at her mother once they’re gone, turning around and heading inside to go straight to her room.

“Gale…I need you to pull over.” John says almost 15 minutes later, Gale turning his head in worry. Seeing the slightly pained look on John’s face, checking his mirrors before he pulls onto the side of the rural road. Farmland surrounding them, but flipping the hazards on just in case. Turning his body to look at John better, trying to assess visually what’s wrong.

“What hurts? Do you need a pain pill? I have some in the backpack.” Gale says already reaching for the bag, John making a soft sound. Trying to shift again and grunting a little bit, taking a deep breath in. Gale sitting back down to look at him again, small backpack clutched in his hands.

“I need to pee…I couldn’t go at the house, my chair didn’t fit in the doorway. And I didn’t think it’d be nice etiquette to pull out a urinal in front of my mother.” Gale squawks softly before he’s pulling the bag open and reaching in for the plastic urinal jug they keep. They always had one in the bag, just in case something happened and John couldn’t get to a bathroom. Curt constantly joked that he was going to use it, always receiving a ‘just wash it when you’re done’ from John. The blond hands over the plastic bottle, wincing as he watches John undo his jeans. Tucking and adjusting things so he can go, grimacing at the pressure on his lower stomach. Trying to lower the seat back a little, he could feel how full his bladder was.

“I…I can’t go.” John whispers, tears welling in his eyes as he sits there. Gale lifting his head from where he’s rested it against the seat, furrowing his brows in confusion. Before he sees the wetness in John’s eyes, the deep blue of his irises looking like broken shards of glass. The black haired boy letting out a little whimper, trying to focus so he can go. Gale opens the door, getting out and closing it before he’s stepping around to the passenger side. Carefully opening the door, reaching across to help John shift, getting his legs to hang outside of the open door. His other hand coming down to grab the back of John’s jeans, grunting softly as he hefts him so he’s sitting straighter.

“Gale you’re going to hurt yourself…fuck, oh fuck.” John gasps out, the shifting pushing on his full bladder, before Gale gets him into a somewhat standing position. John’s long legs able to reach the ground, straightening out his posture enough. The blond getting most of his weight to rest against the door frame of the car, keeping one arm around John’s waist. His long fingers curled into the waist band of John’s jeans and briefs, resting his forehead against the older’s upper arm. A little shudder coursing through John as he’s able to go, letting out a soft sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry Gale…he’s, he’s never done something like that before. He, he had no right to bring up the food to you. I’m so sorry.” John blubbers out as he leans against the car, the blond humming softly as he bumps his forehead against the other’s bicep. Pressing a kiss over his long sleeve shirt, rubbing his thumb under the hem of his shirt. Breathing deeply as he lets John have a minute, before he’s carefully helping him sit on the side of the seat. Pulling his face away to look at his boyfriend, seeing the way he’s refusing to meet his gaze.

“My granny, my dad’s mom, was a religious woman. She went to church on Sunday’s and Wednesday’s, she was a die hard Christian woman. Her son was a sinner, he drank, he gambled, he cheated on his wife, he beat his son. She always spoke of sinning, but I didn’t understand why she could forgive him. It wasn’t until I was 13 that I realized she tolerated him, she never forgave him, she loved him because he was her son. She knew I was gay, told me that if she could love her sinning man of a son, then she could love me too.” Gale tells John softly, rubbing his thumb across one of the scars at the base of John’s spine. Feeling the raised skin, knowing there is a mole near the dimples in his lower back as well. Freckles dotting the skin all around, he knew John’s back well, he loved touching it. He feels the deep inhale that John takes, it raising the boy’s shoulders. Before he’s looking at John again, meeting his blue eyes.

“I lied before…my dad has always been like this. He saw Curt kiss my knee when we were 10, I fell off my bike and skinned the shit out of it. I didn’t think anything of it, not until dinner that night. When my dad made a point of telling me that sinners go to hell, and he wouldn’t have a sinner for a son. He didn’t let Curt come over for a few weeks after that, I didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense to me, he kissed my knee, it wasn’t like he had kissed me the way my dad kisses my mom. But when we went to church that weekend, the pastor talked about laying with other men. As I grew up, I realized that I would never be good enough for my dad. So I stopped trying, I kissed who I wanted to kiss. I did what I wanted to do. I think my mom always knew…but Curt and I never did anything. He just convinced himself that we did.” John murmurs as he sits there, looking at Gale with soft eyes. Reminding the blond boy of a puppy who’s just been kicked. He stands a little straighter to press his forehead against John’s softly, kissing the bridge of his nose. Both of them quiet for a few minutes, before John is shifting just slightly to dump the urinal. The boy reaching for his water bottle, rinsing out the plastic before he’s setting it down on the car floor. Grabbing for one of the napkins to dab at himself, tucking away and zipping up his jeans. Both of them leaning together for another minute, looking out at the farm lands. Already harvested for the fall season, the air holding just a bit of a chill to it.

“I love you John…and if it means we’re sinners and going to hell. Well…then I guess we better get seats together.” Gale states as he rests his temple against the other boy’s jaw, smiling as he realizes that John is in fact taller than him. He always knew he was, but the way they were leaning together it proved it to him. It wasn’t by much, but John was bigger than him in a lot of ways. And Gale wouldn’t change anything about him, he truly did love John for who he was.

“I love you too Gale…but I’m hungry…do you want to stop for sandwiches on the way home? And then go binge watch ‘Criminal Minds’?” The older boy questions looking at his boyfriend, seeing the smile on his face. One forming on his own lips before they’re leaning together for a kiss, breathing deeply.

————————

John Egan is 22 when he gets his first prescription for viagra, the little blue pills in their pill bottle staring back at him. Him and Gale had a pretty amazing sex life, if he did say so himself. His dick may not get hard all of the way, but he still managed to make the blond feel good. He had never bottomed before being with Gale, any guy he had been with had wanted his dick inside of them instead. Gale was attentive, he was inventive too, pillows became their best friend. John’s chair had seen more than it should have, cum was incredibly easy to wipe off of the material so it would seem. They had a plethora of toys, some John had never even considered when he wasn’t in a wheel chair. John could move his hips enough to push back a bit, but that was mostly his arms doing the work. His legs had the sensations in them, but he couldn’t move them too much. It made him feel guilty that Gale was almost always on top, or they were on their sides.

That was why he had brought it up to his doctor in the first place, the little blue pills. He wanted to show Gale he could give just as good as he could get. Not that the blond had ever told him different, he had never made him feel badly about his issues. But Gale’s birthday was coming up, and he wanted to make it special, he wanted to dick his boyfriend down. With more than just a silicone dildo, he wanted to have an actual hard on. He wanted to see Gale’s face when he sunk into him, he wanted to experience that with him. He wanted to feel like a normal, sexually active 22 year old.

“You look like you’re thinking which is never a good thing.” Gale says as he comes into the apartment, unwinding his scarf from his throat. School satchel over his shoulder while he slides out of his boots, hanging up his coat on the hook. John looks up from where he’s got the pill bottle sitting on the table, chuckling softly before he’s tucking it into his hoodie pocket. He would never get over how sass was essentially Gale’s form of language. It rolled right off of his tongue so well it was like second nature to him, and John supposed it most likely was. A shield for Gale, so he didn’t have to be vulnerable, a sharp tongue kept people at bay.

“I uh, saw my primary doctor today. He was happy with the progress I’ve made, said something about being nine and a half months out from the accident and able to shuffle four steps is impressive. I guess anyways. Won’t know much more until I go see Dr. Campbell in January.” John tells him, watching as Gale comes closer, a few school books in his hands. Setting them down on the breakfast bar before he’s stepping over to kiss John’s forehead. The black haired boy tilting his head slightly for a proper kiss, lips pressing together while Gale’s cold hand cups his cheek. Sending a shiver down his spine, goosebumps popping up on his skin at the contact.

“You’re still doing well, barely need my help anymore when you transfer. You should be proud of yourself John.” The blond says as he looks at his boyfriend, voice down in a soft tone. One he reserves specifically for John, making a soft smile cross over the older boy’s face. John can feel the little flush working its way over the tips of his ears, sure that it’ll spread to his throat. Feeling as Gale tangles their fingers on the table between them, little smiles gracing both of their faces.

—————————

John is frustrated, he’s more than frustrated, but it’s the best word he can think of. Looking at his email and swiping it again to see if something has updated. He lets out a soft growl when he sees it hasn’t changed since he got the original email. Everything was seeming to fall apart at the seams, he had placed the order back in November. With a promised delivery of the week before Gale’s birthday, and here it is, Gale’s birthday, and his package won’t be there. Not until after the New Year now, it was throwing a giant wrench in his plans. He looks over as the door to the bathroom opens, showing off Gale fresh from a shower. Toweling his hair off, one of John’s shirts on his upper body, a pair of his own briefs on his lower half.

One of his only requests for his birthday was to stay in with John, he didn’t want to go out. He didn’t want to have a party, he wanted to stay home. He wanted to spend all day in bed with John, or in the apartment anyways. Curt and Ken were at Ken’s family’s house for Christmas until the 30th, Janelle and Janie had been by for Christmas Eve. Marge, her newish girlfriend Helen, Brady, Benny, and Meatball had been over for Christmas Day. It had been a busy few days and they still had a mini Christmas celebration to do when Ken and Curt got back.

“Why are you frowning? Did you finish your show?” Gale asks as he sets the towel over the hamper to hang dry, hating when towels got bundled up while they’re wet. John was notorious for it, and Curt was just as bad, both of them had been reprimanded by the blond multiple times. John tosses his phone onto the nightstand, taking a deep breath and sighing softly. Feeling as Gale climbs into the bed by him, the few hickies John had left on his collar bones poking out from the shirt. He had woken Gale up to a beautiful hand job, getting the blond up to rock into his mouth was not difficult to do. Having Gale perched over his chest, thighs making the perfect ear muffs for John. He could still feel the slight burn of Gale pressing into his throat every time he swallowed.

“John?”

“I ordered a thing for your birthday and it’s not going to be here until after the New Year. I ordered it in November and it was supposed to be here last week. I just got the email saying it won’t be here on time and they’re refunding me my money.” Gale stares at him for a minute, not quite understanding why John is so upset, if it’s a gift he can get it later. But judging by the way John has his arms crossed over his chest, lips pressed out in a pout. It’s more than just a gift for Gale, the blond hums softly and nods slowly.

“And…this thing you ordered…it means a lot to you? You know, I don’t need any gifts. I’m pretty sure I specifically said no gifts, and all of you got me something anyways. I know you’re hiding something in your closet for me.” John squawks a bit at that, frowning again at his boyfriend, blowing out a puff of air. Rolling his neck slightly to stare up at the ceiling for just a minute, rubbing his hands across his face. Gale waits patiently, chewing on his lower lip as he does. He didn’t understand why everyone was making a big deal out of him turning 20, it wasn’t that big of a deal in his opinion.

“It was something for us to use together…when I went to the doctor back in November, I asked him if he could prescribe me something to help…get my dick hard all of the way. As soon as I was out of the appointment and on my way home, I ordered this chair that is supposed to be an accessibility tool. I wanted to be able to give to you as good as you give to me, I wanted to dick you down Gale. But they fucked up and now the fucking chair isn’t going to be here. My plans for today are ruined…and yes you do have another gift in the closet. Two actually, because I’m going to spoil you whether you like it or not.” John states as he sits there, letting out a deep breath, before he looks at his boyfriend again. Seeing the way Gale’s eyebrows are scrunched in confusion, John sighing softly and reaching for his phone. Pulling up the email, clicking a few buttons so he can pull up the pictures of the chair. Handing his phone over so Gale can look at it, watching his eyebrows scrunch together.

“So…you got medicine…so you could be the one to top? And you think a chair not being here is what’s going to stop us? John…I love you. But sometimes I swear you really are a big dumb boy. You’ve seen me ride a dildo on your thigh, why on earth would you think I wouldn’t ride your cock? Do you know how often I’ve thought of it? Fuck John.” The blond says, dropping the phone to lean over to kiss his boyfriend, sucking on his lower lip and nipping. One of his hands going to tangle up in John’s hair, tugging and pulling slightly. The older boy moaning lowly at the pleasurable pain zinging through him, arousal sinking slowly into his groin. His own hands coming up to hold Gale’s trim waist, squeezing slightly. Pulling him closer to himself and groaning at the feel of the boy already half hard in his briefs.

“I wanted to be the one on top for once…you’re always doing all the work. Wanted to spoil you for your birthday.” John admits, moaning as he feels Gale bite at the hinge of his jaw. The blond didn’t usually leave visible marks, but feeling him straddling John’s thigh to get closer. Pushing up against him to grind, hands tilting his head back to bite and suck another mark into his throat. It all has John going a little dizzy, arousal thrumming through his veins. Before he’s smacking his hand towards his nightstand, trying to grab the pill bottle to take one.

“You are spoiling me…trust me, I don’t mind being on top. I’ve never been good at being told what to do.” Gale states with a wicked little smile forming on his lips, leaning in and kissing John again. Sucking and biting at his plush lower lip, moaning at the whine that leaves John’s mouth. Finally separating long enough for John to get the bottle, dumping a pill into his palm and grabbing his water bottle. Taking it before reaching back for the bottle of lube, turning his head back to face Gale. Seeing the flush on his cheeks, pupils blown wide, his own lips a little swollen and slick looking.

“When the chair comes in…you’re laying over Rodney and I’m fucking you.” John tells him, getting Gale to let out a laugh, the older boy smirking while his hands push and pull Gale’s briefs down. Stripping him of his underwear, tossing them somewhere else in the room. Before Gale is tugging John’s briefs off, chucking them behind himself. Climbing into the older boy’s lap and pushing close to him, leaning in for another kiss. Goosebumps rising as he feels John’s calloused hands skimming up the backs of his legs, squeezing at the junction of his ass and thigh. Gale rocking forward slightly, their cocks touching and rubbing together.

“Fuck…fuck that feels good. You’re gonna look so pretty on my cock, I can’t wait to watch you.” John murmurs as he kisses down the other’s jaw, nipping gently before hands are tangling in his hair. Tugging him back slightly, making him look up to see Gale’s blown pupils. His plump, pink lips spread open on soft panting exhales, just as worked up as the older boy. Tip dripping little beads of fluid down onto John’s groin. The small pearls rolling down John’s half hard length, a little shudder going up Gale’s spine.

“Are you gonna last once you get inside of me? Or are you gonna be a two pump chump? Because if you are, I’m going to keep going until I cum.” Gale states, his heart thudding like a hummingbird’s wings in his chest. John letting out a soft sound at the tone of Gale’s voice, his cock giving a valiant twitch. Harder than he has been since before the accident, his hands squeezing Gale’s cheeks slightly. Landing a little slap just to hear the gasp it elicits from the blond’s mouth, his hips jerking forward. The head of his cock rubbing against John’s upper stomach, smearing precum messily. Gale reaching around behind himself for one of the other boy’s hands.

“What’s it gonna be honey? Are you gonna last tonight?” Gale questions, before he’s popping two of John’s fingers into his mouth and sucking. The black haired boy’s jaw drops as he watches, his cock throbbing just a little. A sensation he hasn’t felt in so long, his hand gripping Gale’s ass cheek tighter. Watching with blown pupils as the blond sucks at his fingers, flicking his tongue against them. The younger boy hums softly and pulls his fingers out of his mouth, smiling with a devious glint in his eyes.

“M not gonna fuckin last tonight Gale.” John whispers, knowing he should feel ashamed, but too turned on to think clearly. The blond nods a bit, leaning in like he’s going to kiss him, just to nip at his lower lip. Before he’s getting off the bed, John letting out a whining sound, watching as Gale goes towards the bag he keeps at John’s house now, the goodies he has in there seeming to be never ending. While John waits, looking down at himself and almost groaning at the shock of seeing himself fully hard again.

“I’ve told you John…you have a pretty cock.” Gale states as he climbs back up into the bed, his own cock bobbing slightly as he does. Tip flushed a deep pink color, veins protruding just slightly, slick from his own precum. The black haired boy looks up, just as Gale situates himself back in his lap. Plush lips being pushed against his own, a hand cupping his cheek to pull him close. Both of them letting out little sighs of pleasure, Gale’s hips grinding down into him. Slotting their lengths together, the slick glide making both of them moan.

“If either of us is pretty, it’s you Gale.” John murmurs as he bumps his nose against the blond’s gently, feeling the flickering of a smile. Gale leans back just slightly, holding up the black silicone ring in his lithe fingers. One end having a short bristle like texture to it, his other hand reaching for the lube next to John’s thigh. The older boy’s head tilting just slightly as he looks at the toy in the other’s hand. He always found himself mystified by what Gale could come up with, so his interests were peaked now.

“This is going to wrap around you, keep your pretty cock nice and hard for me. So I can use it for as long as I want, and I’m going to use it. Because it’s my birthday.” Gale states in a matter of fact way, dripping some lube onto his fingers. Rubbing down the silicone before he starts to nestle it around John’s cock, marveling at how hard he truly is. A little bead of precum pearling at his tip, Gale’s thumb swiping across it on instinct to bring it down. Listening as John moans softly, before he’s getting the cock ring snug against his base. Smiling a little to himself as he pressing the bristle part down and under John’s balls. Looking up at his boyfriend’s face before he’s clicking the little button and turning the vibrations on.

“Oh fuck…Gale Jesus Christ.” John gasps as he looks down, feeling the sensations coursing through his groin. His cock giving another twitch, the blond humming quietly as he sits up straighter. Opening the lube again and pulling up John’s hand to coat his fingers. The black haired boy leaning back against the pillows slightly, wanting to watch. Wanting to see how much Gale is going to use him tonight, he’d do anything for his boy. And if that means watching Gale ride his fingers and then his dick, he’s absolutely okay with it.

“Such an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t ride you…Jesus Christ John.” Gale mutters as he leads John’s hand between his thighs, feeling as the older presses his middle finger to his hole. Rubbing the tight muscle, getting it to relax for him before he’s sliding in his digit. Both boys letting out sounds, Gale’s hips rolling just a little, his hands squeezing on John’s shoulders.

“Yea…I am an idiot, but I’m your idiot baby.” John responds smiling softly as he watches Gale work himself open. The blond whining when a second finger is added, John hooking them up into his prostate. Gale’s blunt fingernails digging into John’s skin slightly, his head tipping back. A sweat droplet rolling down his throat, making John lean forward to lap at it. Gale tangling his hands in the back of his hair and tugging, pressing their foreheads together.

“I’m going to fuck myself so hard on you that both of our legs are shaking. I want to feel you for days afterwards John, fuck honey. Fuck I want you inside of me.” The blond pants out the ending as his walls squeeze and spasm, cock bobbing between them. Precum dripping in droplets down his length, his toes curling when John drags his finger tips across his prostate again. Both of them panting into the other’s mouths, sweat clinging to their skin and making everything slick.

“I wanna watch you ride me, I wanna see your cock bouncing with every drop. Always look so fucking pretty when you do it…fuck you’re gonna feel so good wrapped around me doll.” John grunts out, feeling Gale reach back for his hand, pushing John’s fingers out of himself. Scrabbling for the lube to coat John’s length, desperate for it at this point. Both of them moaning as Gale slots John’s tip at his entrance, the blond clenching slightly. Realizing that John is thicker than two of his fingers, but not having a care right now. He would deal with the burn later, he wanted to feel John inside of him.

“Oh fuck…fuck Jesus fuck John.” Gale gasps out as he sinks down slowly, thighs tensing once he’s gotten a third of the way down. John’s jaw dropped open at the tight squeeze, heat wrapping around him so intensely he’s suddenly grateful for the cock ring around him. His large hands gripping onto Gale’s waist, squeezing tightly to steady them both. Gale tilting his head forward to look at John, before he’s pushing all of the way down. Both of them letting out deep groaning sounds, Gale blinking away the few tears that have collected in his eyes.

“Pull off, you’re hurting yourself. Oh fuck Gale…pull up baby.” John panics slightly as he tries to move the blond up, even as his stomach spasms from the pleasure. Gale tightening his hand in the back of John’s hair, tugging tightly. Pulling John’s head back towards the ceiling, his lips pressing against John’s jaw. Biting down slightly and sucking, before he pulls away to stare at the older boy.

“I’m taking my cock, this cock is mine do you understand me? It’s mine and it was made for me, and I’m going to use it to make myself cum.” Gale states, trying to keep his voice from being breathless. Lifting up slightly just to drop back down, both of them whining at the sensations. John’s head falling back onto the headboard, jaw dropped down while he moans. Desperately wishing he could plant his feet to push up, listening to Gale’s moans making his balls tighten. His large hands going down to squeeze at Gale’s butt, pulling his cheeks apart and helping him drop down.

“Your cock is so big John, fills me up so fucking good. Fuck honey, I love it. I love how deep it gets…can feel it in my stomach. Fuck.” John whines at the filth leaving Gale’s mouth, the blond wasn’t usually this talkative during sex. Listening to the ramble coming from his lover was making his insides twist. Grip going a little desperate on Gale, looking down to watch as Gale’s cock bounces between them. His tip rubbing against John’s stomach, leaving a trail of precum in its wake. John suddenly wishing he could wrap his lips around the younger boy’s length.

“I’m gonna cum Gale…fuck, fuck it feels so good. You feel so good. Please don’t stop.” John whimpers as his eyes squeeze shut, his jaw dropping open. The vibrations rolling through his balls from the cock ring combined with the tight squeeze of Gale around him. Gale gripping his hair tighter again to tilt his head back so they can stare at one another again.

“You’re not cumming until I have, you’re not cumming until I tell you, you can. You’re going to sit here and I’m going to use my cock until I’m satisfied.” John groans softly as he feels Gale squeeze around him tighter, the blond dropping on him a little quicker. Cock drooling down into the hair by John’s belly button, the hair tacky and sticky now. John’s hand twitching to wrap around Gale’s cock, desperately wanting the blond to cum. Looking up at the younger boy, with pleading eyes, his breath getting taken away by the look of pure enjoyment on Gale’s face. Euphoria having taken over his expression, the sound of their skin slapping getting louder.

“Gonna make me cum John…fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” Gale gasps out as he grabs at him harder, hand wrapping around John’s throat and squeezing slightly. The black haired boy’s jaw dropping as he looks up at his boyfriend. Watching as he begins to fall apart, his hips stuttering as he drops down harder. Chasing his release now, his head tipping forward to press against John’s now.

“Cum for me baby…cum all over me, I wanna lick it up. Fuck please Gale, please cum for me doll face.” John begs as he watches the blond’s body tense up, a loud sobbing sound coming from his mouth. Spurting between them both, stripping across their abdomens and chests. John whining as he watches, Gale tilting his head back. Pressing his mouth against John’s, gasping for air as he drops down through his aftershocks.

“Cum for me, fill me up honey. That’s it…yea, fuck cum for me John. Oh fuck.” John’s body goes rigid as he starts to orgasm, the vibrations going through his groin making it that much more pleasurable. His hands grabbing at Gale to ground himself, the air getting knocked out of him. This being the most intense orgasm he’s ever had, tears rolling down his face. Gale moaning lowly at the feel of John’s release filling him, his hips slowing down. Collapsing against John’s body, shivers racking through both of them.

“Feels so good sweetheart…did so well for me. I love you so much.” Gale whispers as he presses breathless kisses against John’s jaw, both of them panting. Cupping the older boy’s face to bring him back down, not wanting him to fall into that floaty space all of the way. Brushing his shaky hand through John’s curls, letting John turn his head for a kiss. Their lips meeting in gentle presses, little whimpers still coming up the older boy’s throat.

“T turn it off? Please.” John whispers after a minute, Gale quickly shifting to turn off the cock ring. Lifting his hips up in a slow pull, whining softly at the loss. Before he feels John’s quivering fingers there to massage softly, helping with the soreness. Both of them boneless pressed against the other, lips pressing and sliding together in a slow manner. Coming back down from their respective highs, soft and gentle touches being shared.

“I love you…happy birthday.” John murmurs once they’ve both caught their breaths and are laying side by side now. Gale smiling a little, pressing his face into the older boy’s chest. Tucked into his side, arm thrown across John’s broad chest. Scratching gently over his ribcage feeling the steady breaths coming from the older boy.

“I love you too. You said you got me two other gifts? What the hell else could you have been giving me that would be better than this?” Gale asks as he lays tucked into John, cum drying on John’s stomach and chest. While Gale can feel John leaking out of him, his legs finally having stopped shaking. John hums softly, still half in that floaty space he goes to sometimes, opening his eyes slowly to look at Gale.

“In the closet, behind my suitcase, you can’t miss the bag.” John says as he looks at the boy, a smile on his face, watching Gale slowly slide off the bed. A little wobbly legged before he shakes his legs out slightly. Going for the closest and opening it, moving John’s rolling suitcase bag. Smiling when he sees the medium sized gift bag, child like farm animals printed all over it. Blue and green tissue paper sticking out of the top, Gale picks the bag up, smiling softly as he brings it back to the bed. John laying propped against the pillows now, having situated himself better so he could watch Gale.

“Farm animals?”

“The horse bags were weird looking, and this one has all the animals. Look at the chickens Gale, they’re goddamn adorable.” John states pointing at said animal, the blond laughing quietly before he’s pulling the tissue paper out. Jaw dropping a bit when he sees the new kindle sitting there, a gift card for the bookshop taped to the top. His head lifting to look at John, a sheepish smile on his face. Before Gale is looking back down as he sees another item wrapped in tissue paper. The blond reaching in to pull it out, unraveling it to expose it. Soft pale blue lace landing in his hands, his mouth going dry, while his fingers rub the material gently. Examining the cut of the panties, the front of it would barely contain him, and the back was going to leave his ass entirely exposed.

“You were supposed to open the gift first…but honestly, I don’t think they would have survived.” John says trying to tease, a little worried he’s offended Gale. The boy staring at the panties in his hands, before he’s looking up. Leaning over to kiss the older boy, resting a hand on his chest to keep himself from toppling over. Underwear still in his other hand, before he’s pulling away to look at the black haired boy.

“They wouldn’t have survived…but I’m definitely wearing them soon. And this, this is too expensive.” He says holding up the kindle, sitting back on his butt. The sore twinge there making a little shiver go up his spine, eyes meeting John’s again. The package sitting in the blond’s hands, while the older boy shrugs softly. Resting his hand on Gale’s leg and rubbing over the soft blond hairs there.

“I figured when you can’t sleep at night you could read. I know you get restless just laying there some nights. And honestly it wasn’t that expensive, Ken helped me get a discount on it.”

“John Egan using coupons and discounts?” Gale asks in surprise, making John laugh and smile while shaking his head. Running a hand down his face as he lays there, smiling fondly at his boyfriend. Seeing the pleased grin on Gale’s pink lips, both of them quieting down as they soak in the moment together.

————————

“I’m going to drop you off by the doors okay? I don’t want you to get stuck in the snow.” Gale says as he looks at the older boy, pulling up towards the hospital. Window wipers going at an even pace, Gale hated driving in the snow, it always made him anxious. But neither of them could afford a car that John could drive, it was a blessing that Curt let them burrow his car. It was big enough for John to get in and out of, and his chair fit in the trunk.

“Yea baby, thank you. Here’s the placard thing.”

John says as he reaches into the glovebox to pull out the handicap card, Gale accepting it. Before he’s parking in the little alcove by the front doors of the hospital. Flipping the hazards on and getting out to grab John’s chair, the older boy already unbuckled and holding his door open. Gale stepping over with the chair, having unfolded it for him, stabilizing it so John can transfer. Making sure Bucky is settled before he’s squeezing his shoulder and heading back for the drivers seat.

“I’ll wait for you in the lobby!” Gale nods his head and watches as John rolls himself into the front entrance before he’s pulling away. Turning off the hazards and continuing on to find a parking space, chewing on his lip as he searches. Spotting one a little ways down, putting up John’s handicap placard before he’s parking and getting out. Checking his watch, they were running a little behind today but they should make it if he can hustle. The office was usually lenient with them, as John was never late and never missed an appointment.

“Sir, sir! That’s a handicap spot!” A woman calls a few feet behind Gale, the blond sighing softly as he turns to look at her. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, but usually John was with him and it made people shut up quickly. Gale looks down as he’s suddenly face to face with a blonde middle aged woman. Glaring up at him, more snow beginning to fall down in slow drifts. Her arms crossing over her chest as she keeps the same expression on her face.

“You are an able bodied young man, why are you parking in a handicap spot? Do you realize that you’re taking away from someone who can’t walk? Or are you just too young to care?” She snaps at him, Gale can feel the bubbling irritation swirling in his stomach. He was already on edge because of the snow, and John was a bit of a beast about this appointment. He did not want to see his neurologist, he didn’t want to hear what she had to say about his progress. So trying to sweet talk him out of the door was difficult, Gale had to make promises of a sweet treat afterwards.

“Yes ma’am I understand, I am able bodied, my boy.”

“So you’re admitting to taking the space? You could be fined for that, do you want that to happen?” She interrupts, the boy takes a deep breath as he tries to remember what Maureen has said. In for three, out for five, his hands clenching in his coat pockets. He could feel the snow melting on the collar of his coat, it was sending a chill down his spine. He was sure Bucky was waiting for him in the lobby, just like he said he would be. Because whether John wanted to admit it or not, he was scared to hear what Dr. Campbell had to say today. He wanted to bring his emotional support boyfriend in with him, he wanted Gale to be there with him.

“No ma’am, if you would let me finish. My boyfriend is inside, I dropped him off at the door.” Gale says, turning slightly towards the front doors of the hospital. Seeing John waiting out of the corner of his eye, the black haired boy looking a little confused. Almost like he’s ready to wheel out and see what’s wrong, before Gale’s attention is getting pulled back. The woman letting out an incredulous laugh, interrupting him once again.

“So it’s both of you taking someone else’s parking space? Both of you should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Listen, I don’t really have time for this right now. My boyfriend is waiting for me, so I’ll say this as nicely as I can. Go eat a dick, and leave me alone. Now I need to go inside to get him up to his appointment.” The blond lets out in a deep breath, turning on his heel and heading for the doors. Not seeing how the woman’s jaw drops as he tries to hurry without slipping in the snow. Getting inside and shivering slightly as he rubs his feet on the large black rugs going further. John rolling from the window slowly, eyebrow raised up slightly. Before they’re both heading for the elevators to go up to the fourth floor.

“What was that about? She looked like you spat on her when you walked away.” Bucky asks as he sits next to Gale, the blond trying to hunch down into his coat more. How John was warm in just a hoodie and beanie, he had no idea, but Gale was freezing. He did not like the cold, at all, it was his arch nemesis. Gale lets out a long sigh, knowing John won’t drop it at all.

“She was berating me for parking in a handicap stall, so I might have told her to eat a dick and leave me alone.” The blond rushes out, wincing a little to himself when he thinks back on it. Jumping slightly when John lets out a loud barking laugh, his body doubling over slightly in his chair. The elevator doors opening, but the older boy keeling over with too much laughter to notice. Gale can feel his cheeks and ears getting hot as he’s quickly pulling John’s hands into his lap. Pushing him out of the elevator, a few people watching as John wheezes from his laughter.

“Hello…is he okay?”

“He’s fine, we’re checking in for his appointment with Dr. Campbell, John Egan, I’m so sorry we’re late.” Gale says as he looks at the receptionist, Bucky finally sitting straight, wiping his face of the tears. Little giggles rolling up his throat still every time he looks at Gale, the woman looking between them both. Before she’s typing things into her computer, John snickering again and shaking his head slightly.

“It’s not a problem, you’re all set with being checked in. They’ll call you from over there…have a nice day.” She says, eyebrow raised slightly as she watches the blond roll John away. The black haired boy trying to catch his breath again, rubbing his hands over his face. Gale situating them both to wait for the MA to call them back, groaning when John sneaks a peek at him again.

“It’s not even that funny, Jesus you need to sleep more.”

“It’s hilarious Buck, and the fact that you can’t see that, worries me.” John states, shaking his head slightly and smiling again. Before he’s curling his warm paw of a hand around Gale’s chilled fingers. Squeezing gently with a little shit eating grin on his face, making Gale smile softly. Feeling as John rubs the delicate bone in his wrist, sighing softly as they wait to be called back. Both of them looking up when John’s name gets called, beginning to wheel himself back. His stomach is twisting again, palms going a little sweaty, while a sudden sinking feeling fills his chest.

“Good morning you two, I’m glad you could make it. Mother Nature decided to just blow us over and give us all of the snow in one week.” Dr. Campbell says as she comes into the room, smiling at the both of them. John sitting in his wheelchair, chewing on the inside of his lip, Gale sitting in the chair next to him. Gently holding his hand in his own, rubbing his thumb across the older boy’s knuckles gently. The doctor sits at the desk, typing things into the computer to bring up John’s most recent scans.

“How has physical therapy been going? You’re still going three times a week?”

“It’s been kicking my ass…but yea I still go three times a week. Can we, can we not do this? Can you just tell me what you need to tell me? Because I’m almost a year out and I can barely walk.” John gets out, feeling like a hand is restricting his throat, if his leg could jiggle it would be. He watches as the doctor clicks a few buttons before she’s turning to look at him. Her soft brown eyes were usually comforting, they were one of the first he saw when he woke up after his coma, aside from Janie’s. She slowly turns the monitor to face them both, showing off the newest scans of John’s spine. Pulling out her stylus pen from her coat pocket, she turns slightly towards the monitor.

“Where your injury occurred, it crushed part of your spinal cord, with the additional damage you received afterwards, it pinched a nerve right in here. You have multiple discs in your spine that are injured or damaged from the accident. C2 and C3 cause the paralysis, some in your thoracic region as well, those ones cause the pain in your spine but they didn’t push on the nerves or anything. This is why you have the constant tingling, why you can’t feel hot and cold sensations sometimes, you can move those few steps because you started therapy right away. But John, I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to walk again. I don’t want to say never because you’re a very determined young man, I don’t want you to put a timeline on yourself. You’ve made good progress and nobody can take that away from you.” John’s ears are ringing as he sits there, trying to absorb that he most likely will never walk again. Gale’s thumb swiping across his knuckles in a soothing way, trying to listen to the doctor. While also trying to watch John, not wanting him to spiral in the office. Not realizing that John is already spiraling out in his own head. All of the work he has put in, everything he’s going through in the last almost year, was it all for nothing? He was never going to be normal again, he was never going to be in control of his own body again.

————————

“Have you thought about it at all yet John?” Gale asks as he and John both sit at the dining table in John’s apartment. Curt out for the weekend again with Ken, the boy looks up from his food with a confused expression. Gale pushing his food around slightly before he looks up at his boyfriend. It had been almost a week since he had his appointment with the neurologist.

“The custom chair? Dr. Campbell sent you home with the papers for it. She said it would be smart to get it, especially for long term use. It’ll make your life a little more comfortable…and you can stop paying to rent this one every month.” John’s stomach twists at ‘long term use’, his mouth going slightly dry. Anger bubbling up in his gut slowly, frowning at the chicken and rice on his plate. Hearing Gale sigh softly as he sits there, setting his own fork down.

“It’s nice to know everyone is giving up on me now that the doctor said I’ll probably never walk again. This is the third time you’ve brought it up since the goddamn appointment. I’m fucking trying and nobody sees that.” John states as he looks up at Gale, the blond looking up from his barely touched plate of food. A frown etched into his face, setting his fork down to look at John. The younger boy takes a deep breath as he tries not to snap, but he can feel it simmering. Can feel it working its way to the surface.

“Why can’t you just be happy that you’re alive and breathing John? You’ve overcome so much in the last 11 months, and you are making everything more difficult on yourself. I don’t understand it.” Gale snaps out, looking at his boyfriend and watching the way his eyes narrow. Gale feels regret for exactly five seconds, before he watches John push away from the table slowly. Rolling himself backwards, acting as if Gale has just physically slapped him across the face.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be confined to this fucking chair, to have to depend on everyone around me because I can’t do anything for myself anymore. I can’t walk more than four steps and that’s with two people holding a fucking belt around my waist so I don’t fall. I can’t take a piss without it hurting, I can’t get out of bed to help my best friend when he’s having nightmares, I can’t drive myself anywhere. I can’t even fuck my boyfriend properly without taking a blue pill and using a fucking chair. You don’t get to sit there and tell me to be happy I’m alive and breathing. What kind of fucking life is this?!” John asks as he throws his hands in the air, smacking them both down onto his thighs. The sound resounding for a moment, and Gale can feel his eye twitch slightly. Standing up from his chair to look down at John, glaring at him fully now. All niceness that was trying to stay in his body has evaporated at this point. His stomach twisted into an ugly snarl, making him want to vomit up whatever he did eat.

“I don’t know what it’s like to not have control? I battle my own goddamn brain every single fucking day John. I have never been in control of anything in my entire goddamn life. You think your life is so fucking hard, try spending one goddamn day in my head John. Constantly fighting a fucking demon of an eating disorder to keep everyone around me happy. Trying to keep my depression at bay so I can help you, trying to keep myself from cycling so I don’t do something fucking stupid. I might not know exactly what it’s like to lose the control that you have John. But I’ve never been in control of anything, so don’t you fucking sit there and tell me I don’t know what you’re going through. I know more than you will ever fucking realize.” Gale states before he’s stepping around John and going for the front door. Grabbing his coat, sliding his satchel on, and opening the door. Letting it slam closed behind him, hot tears forming in his eyes as he pulls his hat over his head. Stuffing his hands in his coat and beginning to walk, not caring that it’ll be at least a half hour walk to get home. Not caring that he doesn’t have a car to get there, just needing space between him and John. Thinking briefly that he should text Curt to let him know, but deciding John is a big boy and can do it himself.

—————————

“Gale, hey I’m coming in.” Marge says as she opens his bedroom door, chewing on her lower lip. It had been almost four days since his and John’s fight, and the boys were not talking to one another. Neither of them wanting to be the first to reach out, too pig headed and stubborn for it. Marge had been the one to pick Gale up from the gas station on the night of the fight, the boy refusing to talk about it. It took him a full day to talk to her about what happened, the fight between him and John. Gale had done the one thing that would make him feel better, calling Curt to tell him that John was by himself.

“Gale? Where did you go?” Marge asks as she sees his room empty, frowning when she steps out. Seeing the bathroom door slightly open, the sound of running water catching her attention. She gently pushes the door open, jaw dropping at the sight in front of her. Gale standing in front of the mirror, snipping his hair with a pair of their kitchen scissors. The strands all black now, a little patchy in the back, Marge makes a soft sound getting his eyes to dart over to her. She could see the bags under his eyes, telling her that he had not slept in a few days.

“Jesus Gale…what are you doing? Stop, let’s go to the salon or something okay? We can fix it, and see what they can do.” He makes a sound of disagreement, looking back at the mirror and cutting more of his hair. She watches him with wide eyes, strands of his long hair falling down onto the sink and into the basin. Seeing the tears forming in his eyes as he continues, she swallows thickly.

Quietly going out to make him a snack and get him a drink, letting him have this moment. Knowing he’s taking control of how his brain feels, he wasn’t usually this impulsive. He usually found something else to occupy himself when he was cycling. Keeping himself busy with school, John, Marge, but he was spiraling right now.

“Have you talked to Maureen recently?” Marge asks once Gale has come out of the bathroom, his hair choppy. The black dye looking vibrant against his skin, blue eyes shining even brighter now. She sets down the plate with the uncrustable sandwich, a handful of grapes, and then a glass of water. Watching as he stares at it, wringing his hands together anxiously.

“No…cancelled for this week.” He whispers, she nods softly in understanding, taking a deep breath. Rubbing her palms on her pants, before she’s sitting next to her best friend. Wrapping her arm around his shoulders, pulling his body into her own. Feeling him beginning to cry, his legs pulling up so he can become a small ball. Little broken sobs bubbling up his throat, his arms tucked close to his chest as if he’s protecting his heart. Hot tears rolling down his face, soaking into the material of Marge’s jeans. Her hand gently rubbing down his spine, breathing deeply and letting him have this.

“I love you Gale, we’ll get through this together.” She promises softly, looking down at his hair and taking a deep breath. Gale loved his long hair, he had spent a long time growing it out. If this was like a few of his other cycles, he was going to come out foggy. He wasn’t going to remember the details of cutting his hair, he wasn’t going to remember dying it.

“Do you, do you think John’s sister would fix it for me?” Gale whispers after a little while, having worked his way through the sandwich. The glass of water halfway gone, and the grapes picked at. Marge letting him stay curled up on her thighs, her hand continuing to rub his spine. Feeling the way his breathing has stopped shaking, his limbs still curled and tucked in. Keeping him feeling safe and small, something he always did when he was panicking.

“You can always call her and ask, you’ve said Janie likes you. I’m sure if you explained, she would do it for you. I’ll even drive you there.” She offers softly, feeling him nod, sniffling again. Staying where he’s at for the moment, just needing Marge’s touch to ground him. To bring him back down from that high he’s been at for days now. Usually John would help with this, he was good at bringing Gale back down. Being there to make sure he didn’t drop too far down into a depressive slump.

“I miss him Margie.” Gale whimpers out, his eyes burning slightly with unshed tears. Too tired to cry anymore, too exhausted to do more than just lay there. He feels her fingers gently brush through his mangled hair, sorting through the mismatched strands. A few patches of blond peeking through, the strands at the back of his head a little longer. She brushes it away from his forehead, feeling him beginning to get heavier. Relaxing against her, sleep beginning to invade his senses now.

—————————

Curt opens John’s door, sighing softly as he looks at the lump in the bed. The blinds all drawn, keeping the room darkened. The black haired boy flicks on the light, making John let out a sound. Curt stepping over with the plate of food, medicine cup in his hand, setting both down.

“C’mon get up, you need to take your meds. You need a shower, and I know you’ve cancelled your PT for today. So get your ass out of bed.”

“Go away Curt.” The older boy sighs softly and rolls his shoulders a bit, before he’s tugging down the blankets. Making John grunt and try to sit up to grab them, wincing at the pain in his spine. Grabbing for the blankets again with a long arm, trying to push Curt away from him. Curt keeping the blankets tucked away, scrunching his nose as he smells the old sweat under the comforter. Watching as John tries to shift around, face screwing up in pain, body stiff and sore from not moving like he should be.

“Get your ass out of bed Egan. Your sheets need to be washed, you need to be washed, you need to eat, and take your meds.”

“I said to go the fuck away Curt.” John tells him, snatching the blanket back even if it pains him. His side lifting from the bed slightly, showing off the blistered looking red mark on his elbow. Making Curt’s eyes scrunch up, trying to assess any more of John’s skin that he can. The boy pulling his blankets up and laying back down, shifting around with the limited mobility he can. Curt takes a deep breath before he’s stepping out of his room, letting the door shut a little harder than necessary. Sighing as he steps into the living room, Ken looking up from where he’s been working on a project.

“I’ve gotta call him… but it isn’t his responsibility to make sure John isn’t being a fucking asshole. But he’d know why John has this mark on his elbow, looks like he burned himself somehow, but the fucker hasn’t left his bed in almost five days. Fucking Christ.” Curt groans out as he picks up his phone off the coffee table, stepping out onto the little balcony they have. Running a hand down his face, clicking over to his contacts and scrolling to his favorites section. Clicking the other boy’s icon and leaning on the railing as he looks around. Watching as the snow reflects the sunlight, making it look sparkly.

“Hello?”

“Hey Gale…I’m really sorry to do this to you. But do you know if John burnt his elbow on something? He’s got this red almost blister like mark on there, maybe the size of a half dollar coin. Fucker hasn’t gotten out of bed in a few days, been fighting with him to get up.” Curt hears the way Gale breathes in deeply, he missed the younger boy. They had grown close over the months that John and Curt lived together. Sometimes when Gale was cycling and couldn’t sleep, he’d come out and they’d talk for a while. He listens as Gale excuses himself from wherever he’s at, the quiet sound of him walking away. Before the click of a doorknob is filtering through, hearing as Gale lets out a deep breath.

“He’s been in bed for five days? He didn’t go to PT at all?”

“Nope, no showed all three sessions this week. And I only know that because Patrick called and asked if John was alright, he was worried the moron was in the hospital or something. It’s been a fight to get him to take his meds, surprised he’s even getting out of bed to go to the bathroom. But even that has been minimal. You don’t need to come here, I can handle it. Just need to know if I should worry about his elbow.” Curt adds on the ending, knowing they’ve been taking a break away from one another. Not really knowing all of the details, but also knowing it isn’t entirely his business. Even if John was like his little brother, it didn’t mean he was entitled to everything going on in his life. He hears as Gale takes another inhale, no doubt the younger boy was running a hand down his face.

“The idiot is probably giving himself pressure sores. I’m sure he hasn’t been rotating himself, he needs to get up and get off of his side. He’s probably got a couple of them going now, and if he hasn’t showered he’s just introducing bacteria into them. I can be there in a few hours, I’m a little busy right now. But he needs to get up or he’s going to end up in the hospital with an infection.” Gale sighs out, shaking his head slightly as he pushes off of the door. Curt leans against the railing a little heavier, looking inside at Ken. Seeing him fiddling with a wire for his project, concentration covering his entire face. The little pink tip of his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. Curt is suddenly craving a cigarette, wanting to stop the slight shake to his hands. He had been working hard to quit, Ken was being very persuasive about it too.

“You don’t have to come here Gale, you deserve your space. You aren’t responsible for the giant fucking idiot laying in his bedroom right now. I can get him up whether he likes it or not. Ken is here too so if we have to carry him into the bathroom together we can. I’m a big boy.” Gale lets out a little laugh at that, running a hand down his face and breathing deeply. Chewing on the side of his thumb for a minute, contemplating silently in his head.

He was still upset with John, they hadn’t talked in almost six days now, no texts, no calls, radio silence on both ends. But even though he was hurt by what John had said, it didn’t mean he wanted to see the other boy make himself hurt worse. Or sick with an infection that would land him in the hospital again. He still loved John even if he did feel like there was a giant hole ripped in his chest at the moment.

“It’s okay Curt, I’ll be there in a little bit. Give you and Ken a break from him, thank you for calling me.”

“You don’t have to thank me Gale…whatever happened, we’re still friends.” The younger boy smiles a bit before they’re saying their goodbyes. Hanging up their phones, Gale stepping out of the bathroom to head back for the salon chair. Janie sipping at her tea while talking to Marge, the girls smiling and laughing together. Janie looking up and smiling at him, before she’s stepping aside to let him sit in the chair again.

“Everything okay?”

“After this I have to go and see him. Curt said it was bad, I guess he no call no showed all of his PT this week. Hasn’t gotten out of bed for a few days, I think he might have a pressure ulcer. But I won’t know until I get there. I’ll be okay Marge, I can’t just let him hurt himself like this.” Gale says quietly, Janie wrapping her arms around his upper body to hug him back into her chest. Pressing a kiss to the side of his head, the newly black haired boy smiles a little bit. Marge meeting his eyes, worry in her brown orbs, before he’s reaching across to squeeze her hand gently. Janie gently turns his head to finish trimming his hair, fixing the disaster he had done.

He didn’t remember doing it entirely, he knew he had dyed it, he remembered buying the boxes. But he didn’t remember getting the kitchen scissors out to chop off his hair. The brain fog never got easier after a cycle like he had had, vicious and fast acting. He could feel the depressive slump slowly trying to creep in, he had seen Maureen earlier in the day. Janie had said she would absolutely help him with his hair, which was how he found himself diving an hour to the salon she worked at. Sitting in her chair with a little bit of shame as he took off his beanie to show her the mangled mop of his head. She hadn’t said anything about it, just asked him how short he wanted to go. Let him know she could strip the color out of his hair but it would still be a little discolored. Taking black dye out was difficult, but they could work at it if he wanted. He had decided to lean into it, letting her fix up the patches he had missed. And now she was trimming off the hair that couldn’t be saved. Styling it in a way that would be easy for him to maintain with gel or pomade.

“You’re a good man Gale…but don’t let him push you around. He messed up too, and you deserve an apology.” Janie tells him softly as she runs her fingers through his dyed strands. Fluffing them out for a minute before she trims a little more around his ears. The boy taking a deep breath and looking at her in the giant mirror in front of them. Seeing the little dip to her eyebrows as she focuses on making his hairline even in the back.

“I know, he deserves an apology from me too. We both said stuff, it shouldn’t have escalated the way it did. I just can’t in good mind let him potentially make himself sick. I…I still love him.” Marge smiles softly as she sits there, her legs crossed in her chair. Seeing how soft Janie is with him, even though she was John’s sister, she loved Gale. That much was evident, having made sure her schedule was clear for him, the salon quiet at this time. Knowing how overstimulating the salons could be for Gale, choosing to keep it dimmed for him. Janie’s touch was gentle, making sure to not tug or move Gale’s head roughly.

“Like I said, you’re a good man Gale.” Janie murmurs kissing the top of his head again before she finishes up his cut. Grabbing the pomade to show him how to style it so it would look its best.

—————————

“Go away Curt.” John grumbles as he hears the door opening, going to toss one of his pillows at the older boy. His aim off and throw weak, it doesn’t even make it to the end of the bed. His eyes staying closed as he lays there, pain radiating up through his hip to his spine, his left arm was sore. Everything hurt at the moment, but he couldn’t be bothered with taking his medications. He just didn’t care right now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“I’m not Curt, and you’re getting out of bed whether you like it or not.” Gale says as he stands at the foot of the bed, looking at the older boy. Before he’s moving to open blinds and windows, wanting to air out the depression den John has made for himself. The smell of stale sweat lingering in the air, he hears the sheets rustling. John poking his head out slowly, glasses nowhere to be seen, his hair an absolute mess. One eye open and squinting at Gale, trying to get his vision to focus.

“Gale?”

“Yea, it’s me, and you’re going to get out of bed John. You can push Curt around, but you’re not pushing me around. So I’m going to go and refill your water bottle, you’re going to take your meds, and then you’re going to get into the shower. I’ll even make you a grilled cheese, but you need to get up.” Gale says as he steps over to look for John’s glasses, having to kneel down to find them under the bed. Sighing softly when he grabs them, rubbing them across his shirt to clean off any dust. Before he’s feeling John’s big hand curling around his wrist, looking up. Meeting John’s confused look, watching his eye try to make heads or tails of it all. Sighing softly as he kneels there for a minute, looking at the older boy again.

“Come on John, I’ll help you into your chair.” John keeps his grip on Gale’s arm, loose enough that Gale could pull away if he wanted to. His heart speeding up as he looks at the boy he’s in love with, knowing they need to have a long talk. But he needed to make sure John was physically okay first, standing up he pulls the chair over closer. He tugs the blankets down, showing off John in his black briefs, a pale yellow shirt with a faded sun printed on it. He was actually pretty sure it was his shirt, it looked a little too tight on John’s chest and shoulders.

“Why are you here?” John rasps out, Gale flinching a little at the hoarseness in his voice, before he’s kneeling back slightly. Running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, Janie had done a good job on it. He was really happy with how it looked right now, how she managed to take his mess and turn it into this was astounding. John’s eye rolls up to look, a little gasp sticking in his dry throat as he realizes Gale cut and dyed his hair.

“Because I love you John, and I can’t just stay away when I know you’re punishing yourself. We both said stuff we didn’t mean…we were both mean to one another. It doesn’t mean you deserve to lay here and give yourself pressure sores. You don’t deserve to no show your PT, you don’t deserve to not take a shower. We both fucked up, and I’m willing to put in the work to try to fix it if you are. But you need to take care of yourself too, I’m here to help you. But I can’t be the only one doing it.” Gale explains, looking at the older boy, wanting to smile when he sees John staring at his hair. Moving a little closer so John can see it better, the older boy’s hand quivering just a little as he touches the strands. His body still laying in bed, Gale taking a deep breath as he kneels next to the bed.

“I hate myself for hurting you…I took it out on you and I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry Gale, you didn’t deserve that. You deserve someone better than me, but I want to be selfish and keep you to myself. I don’t ever want to let you go, I know I fucked up. And I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me, but I love you too doll face.” John says softly, swallowing thickly, wincing a little at the burn in his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he drank water, the more water he drank the more he had to get out of bed to pee. And he just couldn’t be bothered with that over the last few days, getting out of bed had become such a chore. Doing anything had been a chore, he had spent a lot of time just laying there. Staring at his wall, sometimes he slept, but he couldn’t remember how much.

“We’ll work on this in a little bit, when you’ve been showered and eaten something. Because honey…you stink. So let’s go.” Gale states as he stands up and offers his hand, letting John slowly pull himself up. Watching as he winces, arm shaking from the effort, making Gale worry even more. Wondering if he’s taken any of his meds or eaten recently, he leans down to help pull his legs over. His eyes assessing the skin he can see on John, noting the pressure sores on his left elbow, outside of his left knee, and the left protruding ankle bone. Gale is sure he’ll find another one on John’s left hipbone, sighing softly as he helps him into his chair.

“Good…I’m stripping your bed and washing your sheets. Smelly asshole.” Curt states as he sees Gale wheeling John towards the bathroom, the boy in the wheel chair flipping him the bird. Before he’s letting Gale get him to where he needs to go, his heart starting to relax from the tight grip it’s been in.

“Are we going to be okay Gale?” John murmurs once he’s back in his bedroom, sheets freshly changed. Food in his stomach, water bottle refilled, meds waiting for him on his nightstand. The younger boy helping him get into bed, his sores all dressed accordingly, Gale having called the on call nurse to ask for help. Ken going to the pharmacy nearby to pickup the stuff to help, Curt having made John a grilled cheese. Gale takes a deep breath and looks up at John, having been helping him get into a comfortable position. Tucking pillows around him to keep him from putting anymore weight on his sores, making sure he doesn’t form anymore.

“I think if we both want it and can work for it then we can be okay. If it’s only going to be one of us working towards it, or one of us wanting it. Then it wouldn’t make sense to keep trying…ya know?” Gale asks softly as he slowly sits on the side of John’s bed, meeting his eyes. Seeing the deep ocean blues staring back at him, sadness evident in the orbs. John nods softly as he rubs his thumb over the hem of his basket ball shorts, chewing on his bottom lip. Taking in a deep breath and feeling his eyes burning slightly, a lump forming in his throat. Before he feels Gale wrapping him in a hug, strong arms cooling around his shoulders. Pulling him in and nuzzling close, vanilla and citrus filling his nose, before he’s tucking his nose in under the other boy’s ear. A little broken sob bubbling up from John’s throat, Gale squeezing him a little closer to himself.

“I want to put in that work with you John, but we need to get better on communicating. I’ve missed you, more than I thought I could miss someone. I want us to be okay sweetheart, but I can’t be the only one making sure we’re both okay. You gotta take care of you too, just like I’ve gotta take care of me.” Gale tells him softly, kissing John’s ear softly, breathing deeply next to his neck. His nose being filled with the scent of John, sandalwood and coconut, familiar and comforting. Feeling John’s arms coming to curl around his waist, holding him close and whimpering softly. Gale can feel the hot tears hitting his throat and collar bone, John breathing shakily as he sits there.

“I want, I want us to work Gale. I’ve missed you so much, I, I promise I’ll work on myself. I love you. I’m so sorry.” John whispers, feeling Gale nodding against his head. Keeping his face tucked into the younger boy’s throat, running his hand down John’s curls gently. Keeping John tucked into his chest, holding the older boy close to himself. Before they’re both laying down together, Gale’s shoes kicked off onto the floor. The blankets pulled up around them, John’s tears having slowly stopped. Just breathing deeply as they lay together, sniffling quietly and rubbing his face.

“Your hair looks good…makes your eyes seem sparklier.” John whispers a little while later, Gale laughing softly and smiling a little bit. Kissing the top of John’s head gently, squeezing him against himself and breathing deeply. Nuzzling his nose into John’s curls, their hands interlocking between them both.

“Thank you…Janie helped me fix it. Definitely almost buzzed it all off.” John makes a quiet sound at that, lifting his head slightly to look at his boyfriend. Eyes holding a sleepy tint to them, the activity of showering, eating, and then crying wearing him out. He brings his hand up to gently brush back Gale’s newly dyed hair, smiling softly.

“Would still love you if you buzzed it…but I’m glad she was able to help you fix it.”

“I’m glad she was too…can’t imagine what I’d look like with no hair.”