#that even if they somehow get out they’ve missed so many years already and couldn’t even be there for Ed the ways they should be

[cripplepunkbarbarian]

Gwen and Bruce hesitating to strike because of a child shouting out in fear for the fate of their parent. Normal. Cool. Love the implications.

[pinksturniolo]

Biggest Hater - Part One

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Part 1 of 2

Alternate version of my Chris fic: Biggest Fan

Requested by the baddest! @muwapsturniolo

Summary: You just don’t get the hype of the Sturniolo Triplets like almost every girl your age does. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that you went to high school with them and Matt Sturniolo particularly, got on your nerves more than anyone you thought ever could. In fact, it has everything to do with that. And when you run into him a couple years later, at the peak of their fame, your feelings haven’t changed one bit. No matter how attractive you find him.

Content warnings: smut, fingering, thigh riding, car sex, loss of reader's virginity, mean!matt (even tho he’s an angel irl), ANGST AF, enemies to lovers trope (somewhat?), slightly toxic, weed smoking

disclaimer: matt and reader are both of age in the prom flashback. also, dont drive under the influence if that wasnt already obvious lol

word count: 4,325

Hate is a strong word. What does it really mean to hate someone? It’s a powerful human emotion that many say is dangerously close to the emotion of love. To feel so strongly about someone, that every time you see them or hear their name it evokes a strong reaction in you, can cause your heart to race in your chest, and your hands to shake.

That’s how you felt every time you saw or heard of Matt. Whenever you visit your family home in Somerville, that’s practically all you hear people talk about. How famous he and his brothers are now and how successful they’ve become. Literally every girl you know has a crush on them. Even your roommate, Stephanie. It gives you a migraine how much people talk about them.

You couldn’t help how much of a hater you were. It wasn’t like you to be like this, you were usually supportive of mostly everyone, especially people you knew or grew up with. You went to high school with the triplets, so you had the privilege firsthand to experience how they were before their YouTube fame.

Chris was funny, always making jokes in class and very talkative. You didn’t mind him as much, during the few interactions you had with him, you found him to be sweet and he was known as kind of a player, but you never saw or heard of him treating a girl with disrespect.

Nick was outspoken and opiniated which you appreciated, and always nice to everyone. You actually got along with him really well, usually pairing up with him for projects in the biology class you two had together. He even invited you over to his house to hang out a couple times, but you politely declined. You adored him but there was one person you just could not be around that would be there.

Matt. He got on your last nerve like no other. He had the worst attitude, and it bothered the fuck out of you. He was pretty quiet, and he often missed school. But the times you were around him, he gave you the dirtiest looks and rolled his eyes whenever you spoke. Why? You had no clue. He was also an instigator, constantly pitting you against Chris and Nick for no reason, which they usually ignored but it pissed you off, nonetheless. There was just something about him that fueled rage in you like you’ve never felt. And it did not help that you were so goddamn attracted to him.

Let’s be honest, all that tension and angst is bound to create a type of energy that just can’t be ignored. Even if it’s caused by someone you can’t stand.

Then, came senior prom. The events of that night and what happened after, forever solidified your hateful feelings towards him.

You had gone with separate dates of course, but somehow ended up alone together by the end of the night. You had a suspicion that your friends and his brothers had something to do with it, but you sat in awkward silence and moping next to him on the bleachers as the rest of your senior class danced on the gym floor.

Large social events like this were not your cup of tea and neither for Matt. You rest your chin in your hand as you lean on your knees, watching your date dance like an idiot. He was your ride home and you were starting to get fed up, tempted to call your parents to pick you up or even order an Uber.

“What an idiot.” Matt says to you, his eyes also on your date.

You scoff, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I mean, I knew you were a loser, but I didn’t think you were that desperate.”

You turn to glare at him. “I don’t see your pathetic date anywhere.”

“She was talking too much for my liking.”

“Wow, what a gentleman you are.” You shake your head, eyeing his outfit up and down. “Looks like you didn’t put much effort into your appearance either, so she must not be that special.”

He smirks at your response, his eyes on your body as well. “I wouldn’t be saying anything with that tacky dress you have on.”

You hit him on the arm, anger filling you from his words. “You’re such a dick.”

“Ow!” Matt rubs his arm, his face scrunched up in pain. “Now I see why your date left you, you really are a brat.”

You huff in annoyance, beginning to wonder why you were even sitting here next to him. You stand up, picking your dress up from around your feet so you can step down the bleachers.

“Wait, hold on.” Matt says suddenly, wrapping his hand around your wrist to stop you from leaving.

You stop and look at him, your eyebrows raised in expectation. His fingertips burn into you and his eyes somewhat soften when you look into them.

“Fuck- my bad. I’ll stop, I promise.” he says, stopping you from leaving.

You’re surprised at his words and his fingers removed from around your wrist, when he sees that you’re not leaving, standing over him. He avoids eye contact with you while you stare at the side of his face, his hands now stuffed in the pockets of his suit pants.

His hair is longer now than it usually was, a middle part that showed more of his face and he wore a pair of earrings that you secretly liked. Despite your earlier comment, you also thought the suit looked really good on him. Matt had always had a good sense of fashion, but if anyone asked you, you would say his wardrobe is basic and unattractive.

“You better have a good reason for me to stay Matt because I’m starting to get tired and I just wanna go lay in my bed.” You tell him, waiting for him to say something, your arms crossed.

It’s then that he pulls a joint from his pocket, a mischievous look on his face.

“You can get stoned with me and relax for once in your life.” He says and you hesitate for a second before he stands up, and starts walking down the bleachers, motioning for you to follow.

You don’t know why, but your feet seem to have a mind of their own as you follow him, out of the gym and around the corner of the school. At this point you really had nothing better to do, even if it meant getting high with Matt.

He leads you to the football field across from the gym to the press box at the top of the stadium. You both sit inside, smoke starting to fill the small room as you and Matt pass the joint back and forth until it’s finished.

You both are actually engaged in a conversation that isn’t an argument for once and you find yourself giggling with him. Whether it’s because of the weed or because it’s prom night, you’re not sure.

You look at your phone, the time now almost midnight. “I should probably head home.” You say, getting ready to call your parents.

“Do you have a curfew?” Matt asks, a look on his face like he’s hoping you’ll say no.

“Not really…” you answer, setting your phone back down on your lap.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

✿

Matt watches with a smile as you as you catch your breath, laughing hysterically from his spot-on impression of Nick when he’s angry. You wipe the tears from your eyes, having laughed so hard you were crying. Your hair has fallen from the perfect curls you took extra time on earlier, the strap of your dress sliding down your left shoulder.

He realizes you have a nice laugh, not hearing it often since you’re always pissed off around him. You look beautiful, even more than you usually do, especially like this. The moonlight shines on your skin and he can’t help but stare at you until you catch him, and he looks away shyly, his heart starting to pound in his chest.

You’ve both been sitting here for the past 30 minutes, parked at the now empty neighborhood playground by your house. Matt had driven around for a while, even stopped to get McDonald’s, before he decided the night wasn’t over just yet and lit up another joint after your highs came down.

Now you both were absolutely shitfaced, having the most fun you’ve had in a while. It’s surprising how much you and Matt actually get along under the influence, probably because it calmed you both down enough to forget your stubborn tempers and just enjoy good conversation and laughter.

“Why didn’t you ever come hang out when Nick invited you over? I’m having a blast right now.” Matt says, leaning his seat back a little to relax.

“I think you already know that answer.” You reply, and your eyes trail down his body and the way it looks as he leans back. He removed his suit jacket when you guys were in the drive thru earlier, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled up, his tie loose around his neck.

“Come on, you can’t really hate me that much can you?”

You sigh, looking away from him and out the window. Of course, he’s oblivious to how much he would actually bother you.

“Are you really that clueless?” You ask and look back at him. His eyes are glazed over and slightly red but incredibly blue.

“When it comes to you… yes.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, ignoring his response while brushing a hand through your hair and picking it up off the back of your neck. “God, its hot in here.” You say and he watches as you move your hair and lean your head to the side, your lips parted. Your slender neck looks inviting, and he can see your pulse jump.

He rolls the windows down slightly, letting most of the weed smoke filter out. His eyes are still on your face and when you return his gaze, this time, he doesn’t shy away.

“What?” You ask, the look on his face makes you nervous. He licks his lips as he looks back and forth between your eyes and your mouth, his jaw clenching.

The smoke has cleared but the air feels incredibly tense now as you stare back. Soft music plays on the radio and the wind blows through the trees outside. You feel like you’ve been transported to an alternate reality, the turn this night has taken starting to not feel real.

“Has anyone ever kissed you before?” Matt finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You feel your face heat in embarrassment at his question. “Uh… n-no.”

You internally cringe at the way you stutter, and the corners of his lips raise slightly at the flustered look on your face.

His hand comes up to your jaw, his thumb lightly brushing over your bottom lip. “Can I be your first?”

It’s no question that Matt has always found you attractive, even though he’s never voiced his thoughts to anyone about it. The problem is, he doesn't like most people and when it came to you, he just couldn’t swallow his pride enough to let his guard down. It turns out you two are extremely similar and it made you butt heads constantly. So, instead of letting himself let someone in for once, he chose to dislike you and it had always been easier that way.

But the way you look tonight, the infectious energy he’s getting from you now that he’s been alone with you for more than 5 minutes, it has him feeling something he’s never felt before.

Electric sparks crackle through you from his light touch on your lips and you almost open your mouth to taste him. But you’re still incredibly nervous. You haven’t had your first kiss yet, your first anything yet but all your thoughts can repeat is yes, yes, yes. Please be my first.

You nod and he leans over the middle console, his hand now firmly holding the side of your face, his fingertips sliding into your hair. Your heart threatens to go into cardiac arrest as he slowly presses his lips to yours, as if you might break like fine china.

But once your lips are connected, your nerves start to disappear and are replaced with feelings of excitement. They mold together almost perfectly, as he kisses your bottom lip and then your top one, his thumb stroking over your jaw. It feels incredibly sweet and tastes like sugar.

He pulls away slightly, his face still hovering over yours. You make eye contact and put your hands on his chest, your fingers grasping his shirt collar, afraid he might move away from you. “How’s that feel?” He breathes, his voice coming out in a rasp.

“Amazing...” You reply and he bites his bottom lip, his pants tightening from the look of pure want in your eyes. Before he can say anything, you kiss him again, this time with hunger and it feels like you’ve done it a million times before.

You expected your first kiss to be awkward, maybe even a little embarrassing. But this is nothing like that, your body heating and heart racing at the feeling of his wet, warm mouth against yours. He leads the kiss, both hands now on your face, his tongue sliding against yours.

It has your panties growing incredibly wet under your dress, and your breathing rapid as you grasp the tie around his neck, pulling it so he can get even closer than he already is. And then, he moans into your mouth and the sound has butterflies erupting inside you.

You decide you need more and push him back a little, disconnecting your lips. He starts to protest but then immediately stops when you climb over the middle and straddle him in the driver’s seat.

Luckily, the van is spacious and you’re not too uncomfortable as you sit on his lap, your dress riding up on your thighs. He places his hands on your hips as you kiss him again, gripping the silk harshly.

You can feel how hard he is under you, and he groans when you unknowingly grind against him, your body moving faster than your mind can think.

“Don’t do that.” He pants, catching his breath and stopping your hip movements. His eyes are closed, his eyebrows scrunched together as if he’s in pain. Your hands are on his broad shoulders, and they dip into his dress shirt through his loose collar, running your palms over his skin.

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” You ask and you move your hips again, this time a little slower. The feeling of his clothed dick against you has sparked a feeling of need in you that you’ve never felt.

He shakes his head, throwing it back against the headrest, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. His grip slightly loosens on your hips but still tight on your dress as he allows you to grind down onto him. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as you let the pleasure of your movements take over.

He lets his eyes travel down to his crotch where there’s a large wet spot forming on his pants from your arousal. “Fuck…” He moans aloud and his dick throbs from the sight. He lifts your dress slightly and sees the outline of your lacy red underwear, his hands moving to grope your ass.

You’re panting against his neck and start to place soft kisses on his skin, eliciting more groaning from him. You reach your hand down to his belt, starting to unbuckle it.

“Y/N.” He says, stopping your hips firmly now. The tone in his voice makes you pull your head up and he’s trying to keep his resolve from completely slipping when he sees the way your eyes are blacked out in lust.

“I don’t want to do this if you’re not ready.” He says, searching your eyes for any hint of fear. He honestly didn’t expect an innocent kiss to turn into this.

You should’ve said no. You should’ve stopped it then and there, should’ve asked him to take you home.

Should’ve.

Could’ve.

Would’ve.

“Matt, I want this so bad right now. Please.” You whine, arousal clouding your mind and the feeling of your body on his is something you can’t refuse.

He gives in, his eyes on yours as he unbuckles his belt, and you lift slightly so he can pull his pants down just enough to the middle of his thighs. He guides you back down on him, this time so you sit around his left thigh.

You’re a little confused but he wraps his arms around your back, one of his hands tangling into the back of your hair as he holds you against him. “Just relax. Grind on me like you were doing earlier, baby. You were doing so good.” He instructs and the way he calls you baby has your heart fluttering in your chest.

He kisses you, and you do as he says, the feeling of his thigh tensing under you making your body heat with arousal again. You moan slightly, as you slide over him. He then pulls your panties to the side, so you’re bare against him, and the feeling has you both gasping.   

“Oh… my god.” You breathe, failing to kiss him back as you shamelessly moan his name. You feel a strong need inside you, and you let your body move against him fluidly, your wetness coating his thigh.

Matt knows what he’s doing. He knows it’s your first time and he wants you to be comfortable. Granted, the minivan might not be the classiest place, but he’s enjoying it if you are. He wants you to know what it feels like to have an orgasm all on your own (besides the help of his thigh) before he’s inside you. Before he absolutely ruins you.

You’re whimpering now, your hips picking up the pace as you chase a different kind of high. He feels incredible and you want to feel embarrassed at the way you’re getting off on his thigh right now but all you can think of is how good it feels.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..” he groans, his own eyes closing in pleasure at the way your pussy feels, slippery and warm on him.

“Matt…” You whine, and he presses his forehead to yours, his hands on your lower back, helping you ride him. “I know baby, let go. Its okay.” He says softly and the coil that’s been building for the past 20 minutes since he kissed you, finally releases and warmth floods your body. You moan loudly and feel yourself leaking on his thigh, your hips slowing down.

You’re out of breath as your movements stop, your heart still racing. “So good, baby. You did so good.” He whispers and you can see and feel how hard he is in his boxers, as your hands brush over him. He grabs your wrists before you can continue.

“Nuh uh.” He simply hums and lifts you up slightly. “Get in the back.”

The dominant tone in his voice causes butterflies again as you climb off him and into the back seat, laying down. He follows shortly after, unbuttoning his shirt so it’s completely open now and pulls his pants all the way off. He puts one arm above your head as he hovers over you, a dark look in his eyes.

His soft hand moves up your thigh, goosebumps erupting across your skin, and he pushes your dress up to your waist. Your red panties are stilled pulled to the side, the wetness from your previous orgasm coating you. He bites his lip, running his fingers through your folds. You gasp from the feeling, still a little sensitive from earlier.

“Let me know if you need me to stop, okay?” He says and you nod, gripping onto his bicep.

He spreads your legs a little further, your knees against his waist and pushes a single fingertip inside you, slowly easing his finger in. There’s a little discomfort at first but it’s quickly replaced with pleasure when he starts pumping it in and out of you. He adds another finger, and you whimper at the feeling, this being completely different from when you were riding his thigh.

“You okay?” he asks, continuing to slide his fingers in you. “God, yes.” You moan, closing your eyes to the feeling. He smirks at your response and the sound of your wetness has him buzzing with arousal. He’s been incredibly attentive to you and patient, and his boxers are suffocating his achingly hard cock.

Your hips start to buck, as you crave more, his fingers starting to hit a spongy spot in your walls, a slow fire spreading within you. He removes his fingers completely, pushing your hips down.

You pout at the loss of contact, and he chuckles, pulling himself out of his boxers. “Not yet, sweetheart. Be patient for me.” He says and your eyes travel down to where he spreads your arousal from his fingers on his cock, stroking a few times to coat it.

You heard he was big but had assumed they were just silly rumors. You were so wrong.

You continue to stare, and he guides himself to your entrance, his hand now forcing your head up to look at him. “Eyes up here, baby.” He says, a smug smirk on his face.

He places a hand on your waist, his other hand still against the window above you as he pushes the tip into you. It’s a little overwhelming, and you’re not sure how he’s even going to fit all of it in you, but his touch relaxes you as he rubs soothingly over your hip, going as slowly as he can.

He’s halfway in, the burning already starting to disappear as he soon eases all the way into you, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you clench around him, the feeling of him snug in your walls.

“So fucking tight…” He groans, his jaw clenched and squeezes a little harsher on your hip. He leans down closer to you, his arm coming to rest next to your head. He stays still inside you, letting you adjust.

“Matt.” You moan, your hands moving into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes baby? You feel alright?” He checks.

“Yes. Please move.” You respond and he obeys your words gladly, pulling out almost all the way only to bury himself inside again. He makes slow, deep thrusts into you and the feeling has your head swimming, your thighs clenching around him, and your jaw dropped open slightly.

The feeling is indescribable, and he struggles to not cum inside you after only the first sixty seconds. That’s how good you feel around him, soaking wet and so tight.

The windows of the van are completely fogged, the air thick and hot. Your moans and whimpers are swallowed as he kisses you, his thrusts slowly picking up in pace. You both are speechless and there’s an unspoken realization between the two of you as your bodies move together in sync, your lips attached, breathing in each other’s air. The outside world has drifted away, the sweet bubble of pleasure and desire encasing you two.

“Matt.. I’m gonna cum again..” You warn, feeling the release build and build, your legs starting to shake.

“I know, Y/N. I want you to, please. Cum for me.” He responds and the movements of hips against yours are uneven now, his own release slowly crumbling. You cry out as you orgasm for the second time tonight, your walls clenching around him. He’s panting your name as he releases his seed into you at the same time, his fingertips leaving bruises on your hip.

“So fucking proud of you.” He murmurs, an exhausted smile on his face.

Mind shattering. Body numbing. Earth quaking, unforgettable sex. Nothing compared to it.

These are the memories flooding your mind as you sit on the leather couch, a cold drink in your hand, and your friend next to you, leaning over to talk into your ear over the loud music of the party. “No fucking way. Are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?” She says and you take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. “Yup.”

Matt stands at the other side of the large living room, laughing with Chris and Nick and a few other people. He hasn’t noticed you yet, but as you keep your eyes on him, it’s as if he can feel you staring. He turns his head in your direction and once he makes eye contact with you, his smile falls, and for a second, he almost looks upset, his eyes lingering on you.

And then he looks away, whispering something to Chris and walks off, towards the hallway.

Of course, he would run away as soon as he saw you. He’s pathetic.

In fact, you feel pathetic thinking you wouldn’t run into him here in Boston, his hometown. At a party one of your mutual friends is throwing no less. But still, you were hoping, no, praying that the one time you decide to leave your house and socialize, you wouldn’t see him.

And now your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass, your head filled with old feelings you can’t escape. You hadn’t talked to Matt since that night, two years ago. You hadn’t even seen him since graduation. You avoided any video or clip of him that would come across your phone. You couldn’t bear to look at him.

You fucking hated Matthew Sturniolo. For many, many good reasons.

a/n: please dont come at me for making matt so mean in this one!! 😔 and if this flops ill be so sad lol i hope yall like it so far

taglist <3: (if you want to be added/taken off, reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if you weren't mentioned, it wouldnt let me tag u :/)

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn

[loveinhawkins]

The day before Spring Break ‘84, Eddie has a panic attack so bad he stays locked in a bathroom stall long after the final bell has rung.

And it’s so stupid. It’s not like the whole thing came as a surprise to him: he saw the writing on the wall even back in December, his grades on a continual downward spiral he couldn’t shift.

But he kept on trucking cause he’s still got the mind of a five year old, apparently, hoping against hope that things would just miraculously work out.

Idiot.

He doesn’t have anything worth getting riled up over, no mistreatment to distract him—sure, if it was O’Donnell doing the honours, she might’ve been a little mean about it, but instead he’d been directed to the school receptionist who confirmed the ‘unfortunate news’ with an uninterested if pleasant smile.

She asked if he’d talked to his homeroom teacher about his predicament, and he’d promptly lied through his teeth and said yes, even though he’d rather die than do anything of the sort. Then she went on about his ‘many options’, a prospective timetable for next semester, some forms to fill in, blah, blah, blah.

“Would you want a call home?” she’d said, already reaching for the phone. “We can go through the process with—”

“No, thanks,” Eddie told her quickly. He stuffed the forms into his bag. “I’ve got—I’ll let my uncle know.”

The thought of Wayne having his day off interrupted by such news made him feel nauseous.

Fuck, Wayne. He’ll be waiting for him.

At that realisation, Eddie goes cold then hot then cold again. He stumbles, gets the stall door open eventually, shakes the jittery feeling out of his fingers.

The parking lot’s still busy—students lazily chatting, perched half in, half-out of their cars; all they’ve got to worry about is whether they’re invited to Tina’s or Josh’s or whoever-the-fuck’s—depends on whose parents have unwisely left their house empty for the week.

Eddie’s stayed so long that he’s missed the bus, so he starts the trudge home, grits his teeth at every stab of his boots cutting into his heels—the van isn’t even on his periphery yet, still many months of scraping and saving to go until it’s his.

He’s almost out the school grounds. He crosses the road entirely on autopilot, startles when he realises that he’s had to make a car do an emergency stop.

Steve Harrington waves him on with a tiny little flick of the finger, all breezy, and great, that’s all he fucking needs—Mister Cool being polite to him.

He gives a small nod of thanks before continuing his walk. Keeps his head down, eyes on the sidewalk. Doesn’t bother about whether he steps on any cracks or not; he figures his luck isn’t changing any time soon.

His palms itch. He knows it’s stupid and embarrassingly self-centred of him, but he can’t get rid the thought that everyone’s looking at him, that everyone knows somehow.

Wayne sees him coming from the porch. By the time Eddie reaches him, he’s gone inside and out, re-emerging with a can of cream soda that he cracks open and holds out with one hand.

Eddie can’t take it. He reaches for the contents of his bag, cringing inside at how the papers are already creased, he can’t even manage…

He passes the forms to Wayne. Can’t look him in the eye.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Uncle Wayne,” he says—and mortifyingly, his throat closes up, and that’s all he can get out.

There’s barely a pause before Wayne says, “Eddie. Can you look at me?” When Eddie does, he clicks his tongue quietly at whatever he must find. “Kid, you’re all right. S’not the end of the world.”

Eddie scoffs. “Damn well feels like it.”

Yup, petulant as fuck too. Why not? Might as well crash and burn.

He at least makes sure to shut the front door as apologetically as he can. There’s one singular plate in the sink that he sets about scrubbing even though it hardly needs it.

He hears Wayne come in; he’s reading still, turning the pages over thoughtfully.

Eddie keeps scrubbing.

Wayne’s probably reading the test results. Eddie doesn’t need to see to know the ones that’ll be lingered on.

He couldn’t even pass English. The one thing that was meant to be in the bag, where he could scrape a C-, and he…

What the fuck’s wrong with him? Where’s the sense in being able to write a good campaign on a whim when he can’t even…

“Eddie.” Wayne passes the cream soda can across the counter. “You keep workin’ at the sink any longer, and m’gonna start thinkin’ you’re ‘bout to give me your last will and testament.”

Eddie chuckles. Scrubs at his eyes and obligingly steps away. He picks up the can—the cold metal soothes the itch trapped in his palm.

Wayne folds the papers neatly, corner to corner.

“I’ll help you fill everything in,” he says, matter-of-fact.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll get a pen.”

But Wayne shakes his head. “Not tonight. We’ve got plans, remember?”

Eddie laughs again. ‘Got plans’, according to Wayne, means watching T.V in comfortable silence, Eddie lounging on the couch; Wayne might occasionally read out a crossword clue he’s stuck on before typically solving it on his own, and Eddie would drop off to sleep early, his last impression that of Wayne treading lightly from his armchair, turning the volume down.

It’s a comforting thought.

But he… he should be…

Wayne gives him a knowing look, waves him over to the couch.

The creak of the refrigerator door opening. Wayne’ll be starting dinner soon. Some sorta pasta, probably: it’s tradition, whenever school ends.

“Hey, Ed.”

Eddie curls up on the couch, knees to his chest. “Mm-hmm?”

“It’s fixable, all right? It ain’t a chore. You know that, right?”

Eddie smiles—he sniffles and doesn’t bother scrubbing at his eyes again when they fill up.

“Yeah, I—I know.”

The words are old, a truth he’s had to be reminded of many times; it started back when the world had ended once before, when Eddie, newly moved into Wayne’s trailer, had stammered, “I-I won’t bother you, Uncle Wayne, I swear, you won’t need to—”

And then he learnt the very first rule of the universe—save for the fact that Wayne would always, always be there to help him.

It ain’t a chore, loving you.

[batsyforyou]

Random Pet Peeves: Feanorians Edition

Tags: Pet peeves (things that annoy people)

Pairings: None

Author's Note: I have Eonwe coming up as well as the pokémon one. Just thought to post this while I was at it.

Taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese

Curufin 

Fidgeting. He hates it, between the noise it can bring and the constant movement it drives him insane and causes him to lose focus. Like when you're on your last nerve and someone keeps making McDonald straw music insane. Like just stop already! 

Maedhros

Jokes about his height and comments about his missing hand. The 'How's the weather up there?’ jokes and the constant questions about his hand from those less informed drives him crazy. I mean honestly, how many times can you hear the same thing before it gets old? Now imagine being an elf with centuries of experience with these things. 

Celegorm 

Open mouth chewing. Most of the time Celegorm doesn’t care about anything anyone does but when it comes to eating and everyone is at the dinner table it's gross and noisy and he is sometimes convinced that their saliva food spatter somehow got in his food. Which he will promptly make a scene for and refuse to eat. 

Even worse is when he is feeling overwhelmed and stressed and chewing noises begin to drive him nuts like, oh my word, I’ve been there.  

Caranthir 

Mud and dirt tracked all over the floor. Especially if Celegorm is the one who couldn’t be bothered to take his shoes off before coming inside. 

Maglor 

When someone touches his stuff. Most of the time he can handle it with grace and be completely chill with finding his harp being moved into a different room. Because while it is annoying it isn’t world ending. So he’ll just roll his eyes, sigh and politely remind the culprit *coughs* Celegorm *Cough cough* to not move his things around. 

But if you really want to get his goat do what parents (and some absent minded friends) do best. 

When he goes to show you a journal with his music notes and ideas, flip into the area he didn’t show you. Like when you show someone a photo and they start SCROLLING THROUGH EVERYTHING. 

That will get him raging mad lol. 

Amrod and Amras

They both hate it when they get called by the other's name. And I don’t mean like when a stranger, like a servant, just makes a mistake (they are very understanding about this) I mean when they’ve known this person for literal years and they still can’t tell them apart. 

They also can’t stand it when family members confuse their hobbies with the other twins. While it isn’t big it doesn’t really feel good and can really upset them on days they aren’t doing well mentally. 

Celebrimbor 

When someone refers to his family as the monsters under the bed and uses them as scary ghost stories. Yeah, his family did kinda do it to themselves but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying. Especially when they get the details wrong like, “No, Maedhros didn’t have dark hair. His hair was red and curly.” Like if you're gonna try and scare people using real life people at least get the basics right. 

It also sucks because people will also turn him into a story character as well. Coming up with different assumptions and making weird rumors about him eating worms or something. It can be really bothersome and isolating. 

Besides all that he still loves his family and remembers them more as people with troubled pasts rather than monsters that hide under beds.

His Uncles and Atar are way too big to hide under beds anyway. 

Feanor

When someone questions his work and decisions. Not just once out of curiosity but over and over again. It grates on his sanity. 

Nerdanel

When someone talks about her children and husband leaving and doing all those horrible things. Like honestly can’t they have some class and not shove it in her face? Or even when someone asks her how she didn’t see Feanor’s behavior change or why she didn’t try to stop him sooner or the classic, “What did you ever see in that elf?” 

She loves her family very much and hates when people act all snotty about things.

masterlist

[yourmidnightlover]

timeless - ch. 4

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

series summary: you, bucky and steve were the best of friends growing up. what happens when you're assigned to be a war nurse for the 107th? what happens when bucky finds himself 70 years later with scattered memories of the girl who brought him so much comfort? will your love for each other remain after all of the pain you've been put through? will your love for each other remain timeless?

chapter summary: in a flashback chapter, we see how you and bucky are captured by the other side...

warnings: restraints used against bucky and reader, implied/threatened sexual assault, canon typical violence, talk of war, wounds/stitches/gunshot wounds/blood/etc, please let me know if i've missed anything

w/c: 2.5k+

a/n: AHHHHHH! i'm sorry it's taken me so long to put out this new chapter! a lot's been going on in my personal life lately but i've finally managed to push out the next chapter! it's gonna get very real in the next chapter... so be prepared.

<- chapter 3 ~ chapter 5 ->

“they’ve pushed past the lines of defense at our home base,” a corporal had alerted bucky as he was cleaning his rifle at their shooting sight. “that’s why there’s practically nobody here, sir.”

“what do you mean pushed past our lines of defense…” he was worried about the next words that would come out of his mouth. “are-is everyone okay? are they in danger?” 

“sir… i’ve gotten a report that says there have already been casualties,” bucky’s face grew dark as the reality of the threat became much more real. 

“we’re going back,” bucky began packing his supplies in his pack, not caring at all about organization before running towards the home base. 

the sounds of shots and the smell of gunpowder became much more prominent with each mile he ran. how could he have missed that? missed hundreds of men going past their base… they must’ve found another way around them. it certainly wasn't an aircraft, so they had to have gone underground. 

and now you were in danger. you could already be-

no. no, he couldn’t think about that right now. he couldn’t think about losing you when he hadn’t even had you, yet. you were supposed to marry him. 

well, maybe first go on a date with him… even his ma new he was head over heels for you. steve knew it, somehow you were the only one who didn’t know how hard he’d fallen for you. 

he couldn’t lose you without at least telling you that. 

there weren’t anymore gunshots ringing through the air, although the smell of gunpowder was still lingering. 

“y/n!” he had finally reached the home base, amidst all of the action. “doll?” it was barren where he was slowly walking, his gun raised and ready to shoot. 

he went tent to tent, searching for you and any other signs of life. beneath his feet was the crunching of fallen leaves, crumbling beneath his weight with each step. bucky had never felt any sort of relation to a damn leaf until now. 

eventually, he came upon a dark cabin, a few miles from their original home base. he picked the lock with the skills he had learned growing up in brooklyn all these years before slowly opening the door, his heart pounding with what he saw inside. 

bodies littered the floor, their chests still rising at least. they had puncture wounds and gunshots ranging from their abdomens to their legs. groans of agony rang out quietly as he made his way around the room. he could practically smell the metallic and coppery scent that only accompanied the presence of an abundance of blood.

a breath of relief passed through him when he saw your ragged nurse uniform in the back corner of the large cabin, tending to one of someone’s many wounds the best you could. they had a washcloth in their mouth as you dabbed their wounds with what he assumed to be disinfectant. the man grimaced, biting down harder on the washcloth as you shushed him with quiet apologies, telling the man he was so brave and strong, promising the pain would be over soon.

he jogged over to you, wrapping his arms around your middle, shocked when he felt your elbow logged into his gut. 

“woah,” he groaned as he doubled over in pain, falling to his knees  not prepared for you to take a shot at him. “fair enough,” he rang out through clenched teeth. 

“ja-jamie?” your voice wavered as you got on your knees to wrap your arms around him. “i thought you died,” you sobbed into his shoulder, clearly having already been crying this whole time while trying to comfort the many soldiers. “i was so worried-i didn’t-nobody told me if you were still out there,” you continued to cry as his hand went to cradle your head, his other arm wrapping around your waist. 

“i thought you might’ve…” he sighed, finding comfort in your breath on his neck. “nevermind that, you’re here. you’re safe. and i’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“there’s-they’re all injured here,” you shook your head as you pulled back to search his eyes. “can you-are you hurt, too?”

“no-no, i’m alright, doll.” both his hands cradled your face. 

“do you remember the procedures to do when tending to these guys?” your eyes were wide. “i need some help, i haven’t seen any of my girls since they invaded… if you can tend to the smaller wounds, wrap them up, i can focus on the gunshot wounds, so i can get the bullets and stitch?”

“anything,” he nodded as you handed him a pack full of disinfectant, antibacterial, gauze, and wrap. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to manage things for now.

the two of you worked for around two hours before nightfall came. most of the severe cases had already been tended to, everyone still alive thanks to you. you told him how they had invaded, coming from the ground up. 

you had tried to drag as many people as you could with you as you ran, others told him that you even went back to help out more. he had never been more proud of his girl. a part of him, one that he couldn’t help but agree with, argued that you should have never been subject to that kind of task. he should have been here to protect you. he should have been the one to guard you, to make sure you never had to go through the stress of saving someone else from gunshots ringing through the air.

“i killed someone, jamie.” he looked up from his patient to see you, tears streaming down your face. “i-i had to, he was coming at me and one of the guys, but i-i killed him.”

the soldier he was tending to put a hand on bucky’s shoulder, clearly understanding how much he wanted to wrap you in his arms. the soldier nodded, seemingly giving his permission for bucky to leave him and his superficial wounds to make sure his girl was alright. bucky nodded back at the soldier before marching towards you, gently grabbing your arm this time, and letting you wrap yourself around him. his hand traced your back mindlessly as your sobs slowed. 

“it’s hard,” he nodded, still keeping you close to him. “i wish i could say it gets easier, but i don’t think that’s such a good thing. i think the fact that you feel that pain, the grief and sorrow, it means you’re more human than the rest of us. being desensitised to killing isn’t something to be proud of, but feeling that pain?” he pulled back to look at you. “i’m so glad you can still feel. i hate seeing you in pain, or sad, or frustrated, but if it means that you’re still a bit more human than the rest of us then i think it’s a battle you’ve won.”

you took a second to look into his enrapturing eyes before replying, “how is it you always know what to say?” 

“y/n,” he took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to articulate what he wanted-needed to tell you before you heard the crunching of leaves from outside. 

it was like a wave of cold washed over everyone inside the cabin’s room. bucky walked quickly to grab his rifle before gazing outside a crack in one of the boarded up windows. you stood right behind him, a hand on his shoulder and your breath grazing his neck. 

-

it happened so fast. 

most of the guys had only needed a little patching up, so they were able to put up at least a bit of a fight. one of the biggest surprises, though, was that this time, they weren’t shooting bullets. 

they were shooting tranquilizers.

bucky had manuevered you behind him to shield you from the men as he began shooting at the germans. 

eventually, he ran out of ammunition. quicker than either of you had expected, in fact. after that, it all came crashing down around you. bucky turned towards you, wrapping his arms around your torso as the two of you got down to the ground. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“i’ve got you.” another kiss landed on the crown of your head as piping hot tears streamed down your face. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry,” he pressed his forehead against your own as you awaited the cold release of death.

although, it never came. 

what did come, however, was the sting in your right shoulder. you pulled back to briefly look at bucky, squeezing his arms with an attempted smile before succumbing to your body’s exhaustion, slumping against his chest for just a brief moment of calm. then, the darkness took over. 

when you woke, a bright light was piercing your eyes. your head was throbbing, and upon trying to lift your arms to rub your temples, you realized you couldn’t. your arms were bound to wherever you were laying. turning your head, you realized you were in a dingy looking room. there was another bed beside yours, though. 

“y/n?” bucky’s voice rang out. “doll, are you awake now? please, god, tell me you’re awake.” you could hear the desperation in his voice. 

“mhmm,” you couldn’t even nod your head. “m’head hurts, jamie. i don’t-where are we?” your voice cracked as you finished the sentence, you almost wanted to curse yoursel for letting vulnerability show. almost. the citation was dire as it was, a little fear was especially normal. 

“i-they…” he took a deep breath. you wanted nothing more than to hold him in this time right now. maybe you’d rather him hold you, because, dammit, you were terrified. but the guilt that was buried underneath his tone was so noticeable you couldn’t help wanting to comfort him. “they’ve got us, doll,” his humorless chuckle did little to hide his fear or disappointment. “i’ll-i’ll figure this out, though. i’ll get us out of here. i’ll get you out of here. it’ll be okay. you’ll be okay.” it seemed as though he was trying to convince himself rather than you. 

“it’ll be okay,” you assured him. “we have to be strong, buck. we’ll get through this.”

there was thumping and rustling at, what you assumed was, the entrance. 

“good to see you two awake,” a thick accent, russian, solidified your greatest fears. you were captured by the other side. “we have a lot planned for you two… the tests we’ve performed seemed to be very assuring.” the male voice got closer to you, between you and bucky. “aren’t you a pretty little thing, american.” his hand grabbed your chin harshly, you squealed from the shock. 

“don’t fucking touch her!” you heard bucky fighting against the restraints, the strong metal rendering his muscles no match. “don’t hurt her!”

“oh… are you her lover?” he chuckled as he released your chin. “we have a little bet going on, the way you tried to protect her was very new to what we’ve seen. some think lovers… i’ve got a lot in the pot.”

“it’s none of your fucking business,” you finally spoke to the man. “what the hell are you doing to us? what do you want?” there was more venom in your voice than you ever thought possible.

the back of his hand trailed down your cheek before he cleared his throat. “we’re trying out some new… vaccinations on you. no need to fret, pretty one. you’ll find out what and why soon enough.”

vaccinations… what the hell? you had thought animal testing was still all the rage for testing products, especially overseas. you haven’t heard of human testing in ages. maybe that’s for a reason. obviously a government would want to keep that a secret. 

perhaps america was doing the same thing themselves, experimenting on soldiers and hostages they would otherwise kill. 

god, this was probably gonna hurt like hell. 

“ladies first?” the man offered, as if he were being a kind gentleman. 

“no!” bucky fought once more. “me! test me first! i’ll comply… i won’t fight, just don’t hurt her.” there was so much desperation in his voice as he pleaded for your life. 

“you understand the… vaccinations may react different on both men and women? there’s a reason we kept your girlfriend for further testing as well. either way, what’s done to you will be done to her. although, i can’t say we won’t do a bit more to that pretty face of hers.”

“fuck you,” you spat out with a rasp. 

“that could be arranged, pretty one,” he laughed before he began to stalk towards bucky. “i will listen to you this time. don’t say i never did anything for you.”

“no!” it was your turn to strain against the metal pieces keeping your body down to the table. “don’t hurt him, please!” you felt tears welling in your eyes before bucky’s voice became calm.

“it’s okay, doll,” you could hear his voice shake. “i’ll be okay. just stay strong for me, please.”

“jamie…” your voice cracked, even though you would’ve liked to play the role of a touch prisoner that couldn’t be broken. 

you couldn’t help but feel hopeless as he escorted bucky out. your sobs began to echo throughout the room. 

you were in a russian base, being experimented on with the man who doesn’t even know how much you love him. 

you prayed to a God you didn’t know if you believed in for the first time in a long time. you prayed that he would make it out alive, that he wouldn’t be harmed. that you could see daylight again with him. that one day you’d be able to tell him how much you truly loved him.

prayed that it wasn’t too late to tell him everything…

TAGS: 

@cjand10

@coldheartedmar

@ordelixx

@whiskytoast

@cookingdancingchick

[fyonahmacnally]

Hands On Experience (Kara's First Job)

Based on a tumblr post - read here.

It’s been a long week for all of them, even longer since they’ve all had a chance to unwind and relax in general, much less as a group. Between their regular jobs, their vigilante shifts, and just life in general, months have passed since their last girl’s night. Fortunately, tonight is the remedy to that problem. 

They’re all sitting around Lena’s living room, snacks, wine, and other spirits spread across the coffee table in front of them. Kelly, Alex, Nia, Sam, Andrea, Lena, and Kara are regaling each other with stories of their youth and the trouble they managed to get into. Hearing some of the stories from Andrea about a teenage Lena has everyone laughing and somewhat surprised. The normally straight-laced and stoic CEO was quite rebellious in her teen years. Who knew? Kara sure as hell didn’t. 

As the night continues, the alcohol flows freely and the conversations ebb and flow into different topics. Kara thinks they’ve finally ventured away from the stories of their younger years and she breathes a sigh of relief. She never really did anything rebellious, she has always been more of a good girl, a rule follower. She couldn’t really get into trouble while trying to hide her identity. The two weren’t compatible.

But…not many people know about her first job. The one she got right after graduating college to pay for her first apartment in National City. It’s not something she tells many people. Especially since it came about by accident. She’s not ashamed of it, she’s just not sure how people will react to it. The times it has come out in conversations, reactions have been mixed. Plus, she sighs internally, if Alex is around, she always pushes her to tell The Story™ about the break-in. It isn’t something she likes to share.

Again, not because she is ashamed, it’s just that the way she got the job comes up and okay, that part is embarrassing. People usually laugh, tease her about it. And okay, she can see how it might be objectively funny, but she just…whatever. She’s a grown ass woman now. 

Still, she doesn’t want to tell The Story™ in front of Sam, Andrea, and Lena. She already gets teased by Alex about it and she knows Sam and Andrea won’t let her live it down. And Lena, Rao. They’ve been dating for a few months now and have had sex so they’ve discussed things. Kara knows Lena was a little surprised when she brought so much knowledge to those conversations, but she’s never asked about it.

In fact, of all the people currently sitting in this room, Alex is the only one who knows The Story™. Maybe Kelly because they talk about everything, but yeah. It’s not a story anyone else in the room knows and Kara wants to keep it that way. She’s managed it for years, maybe her luck will continue.

Just as she begins to relax, thinking she has managed to dodge the story and keep her secret for another day, she hears her name. When she shakes herself from her inner dialogue, six pairs of eyes are on her. 

“What?” Kara asks, looking from face to face before her eyes land on her sister. Her shoulders sink. She knows that look, that’s The Story™ look. Fuck. She is not going to be able to escape it, but she has to try. “Did I miss something?” 

Alex grins, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. “We were just talking about our first full-time jobs. Andrea was under the impression that working for CatCo is the only full-time job you’ve ever had.” She tilts her head and smirks at her now nervous sister. “I corrected her, but that story is so much better when it comes from you. Care to share, Kara?” 

She sighs and drops her chin to her chest, this isn’t what she had in mind when she requested a Girl’s Night with her friends. Not even close. To be fair, she’s a little shocked Alex hasn’t somehow forced this story out before now. She is also definitely not drunk enough for this conversation either, so she makes a decision.

Kara bolts up from her seat, glass in hand. “If I am telling The Story™ I need more alcohol.” She sends pleading eyes to her girlfriend before turning to make a quick exit to the kitchen, Lena following close behind.

“Hey.” Lena’s soft voice, full of concern, breaks the silence. She walks around the island to stand next to her unusually quiet girlfriend. “Are you okay, Darling? If you want me to kick everyone out for the evening, I will. I can have Frank take everyone home.” She smoothes the now prominent crinkle between the blonde’s eyes, waiting for a response.

“No, it’s fine. This was bound to come up in conversation eventually. Honestly, I just hoped it wouldn’t be tonight.” She lets out a long sigh before burying her head into Lena’s neck, breathing in her comforting lavender scent.

Lena wraps her arms around her favorite person, placing a soft kiss to her temple before pulling her close. “You know, I always assumed CatCo was your first job too. We’ve never really talked about it.” She feels Kara pull away with a slight grimace on her face. Their eyes meet and Lena raises a brow at the Kryptonian.

Kara shrugs. “It’s what most people assume. I just don’t correct them.” She chuckles as she pulls the Aldebaran rum from the cabinet and pours a very full glass. Taking a big gulp, she winces at the slow burn moving down her throat. “I suppose I should get this over with, huh? Let everyone get their laughter and teasing quota in for the evening.”

Green eyes watch her curiously, taking in this peculiar behavior from the blonde. She’s seen Kara wary of things, but she’s not sure she’s ever seen her like this. It isn’t apprehension, it seems to be more like resignation, but she’s not sure what to make of it. 

“Kara, you don’t have to tell anyone anything. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can put a stop to it. Just say the word.” Lena says, a fiery determination on her face. 

A warm bubble of affection bursts in Kara’s chest before genuine laughter escapes her mouth. She smiles and kisses the dark-haired woman right on the enticing pout in front of her. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s an objectively funny story, just a little embarrassing. Besides, I’m also curious as to how you will react.” She waggles her brows and places one more soft kiss to Lena’s lips before dragging them both back to the rest of their friends.

The blonde takes a deep breath and reclaims her seat on the couch, Lena’s warm presence next to her and the warmth of the alien liquor in her system finally giving her the courage to expose her current biggest secret.

“My first job was at a sex shop called Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.” She pauses for what she knows will be gasps of disbelief, glancing around the room at the faces of some of her closest friends. True to her assumptions, most of the eyes staring back at her are wide and disbelieving. The only exceptions are Alex, Kelly, and surprisingly, Nia.

Nia tilts her head to the side and takes a sip of her drink before she leans forward, a knowing smile on her face. “Well, there are several things that make a lot more sense now.” The brunette giggles. “When I came to you about that article I wrote a couple of years ago about spicing up things in the bedroom, you knew way more than I expected you to. Now I know why!”

Kara sighs in exasperation. “I’m not nearly as innocent as everyone seems to think I am!” She scoffs, cutting her eyes at her sister in anticipation of what’s coming.

Alex lets out a really loud guffaw, her laughter jostling Kelly and making the rest of the group snap their eyes toward the redhead. “Oh Kara…my dear sweet sister. We all know you aren’t so innocent now, especially since dating Lena, I’m sure.” She smirks at the raven haired woman next to her, chuckling at the middle finger flipped in her direction. “But, please enlighten our friends on how you got that job.” She sips her scotch before leaning back into the cushion, snuggling into her wife’s side.

If looks could kill, Alex would be dead. She’s sure of it. The look she’s getting from Kara is filled with malice and daggers. She just smiles and winks at the blonde. Her mind is at peace, watching Lena absorb this story is worth every bit of ire from her sister. So, she relaxes and waits. Her part of the story will be here soon enough. 

After looking around the room at her friends one more time and get a reassuring squeeze from her girlfriend, Kara begins her tale:

“I was looking online for jobs. I had just graduated from NCU and gotten my first apartment. At that point, I was applying for almost anything because I just needed something to pay rent. I came across this ad for retail sales at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets and thought, why not? How hard can it be to sell toys and trinkets?”

She pauses her story to take a drink of liquid courage, noticing the half smirk on her girlfriend’s face. Shaking her head, she continues:

“A few days later, I got a call from the manager of the store to come in for an interview. The instructions were to go to the back door of the building so I didn’t know what kind of things were being sold until later. I genuinely thought it was toys and trinkets…you know, like a Schwartz toy store.”

The uproarious laughter at that statement yanked her out of her story and she covered her face with a grumble. Lifting her face, she glares at her sister before turning to the rest of the group. “Look, if you guys want the rest of the story, you’re going to have to stop interrupting me. This is serious!” She harumphs and crosses her arms, making the group laugh even harder.  She rolls her eyes and sits silently, waiting.

“Okay, okay. Settle down, let her finish.” Sam chimes in, wiping the tears of laughter from her face before settling back in next to Andrea. The couple share a soft smile before returning their attention to Kara.

“Are you sure you’re done?” She flicks her eyes between everyone before dropping them back onto her hands actively twisting in her lap. “Anyway, I went in for the interview…”

“I opened the back door and stepped inside to what seemed to be a storeroom. It looked pretty normal. Boxes, shelves, labels, nothing to indicate anything outside of the toy store I imagined. The manager, John, came out to greet me and took me into his office for the interview. 

Now, what happens next was a little odd to me at the time and looking back it was obvious, but I was 21 and still not used to Earth’s customs so I just rolled with it. John brought out this…apparatus that was a very lifelike replica of a bare bottom.”

Kara growls as another round of belly laughs interrupts her telling of The Story™. This time she doesn’t say anything. She sits, silently waiting for the laughter to subside. Once it is quiet again, she makes eye contact with each of them trying to convey her frustration.

“Alright. Let’s get ourselves together and listen.” Lena clears her throat, quickly wiping away her own tears of laughter before she continues. “Go ahead, Darling. Finish your story, we’ll do our best not to interrupt you again.” Green eyes glare at the rest of the group before gently squeezing Kara’s leg in encouragement.

She sighs, throws her head back and stares at the ceiling before finally continuing, hopefully finishing this time.

“John had me…spank the bare bottom several times. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for at first, but later he told me that I kept my composure better than anyone else before me. I realize now it was because people probably laugh their asses off. For me it was pretty confusing because I assumed it was for some lifelike doll…which, looking back, I suppose it was.”

She laughs at her younger self. In hindsight, this story is pretty damn funny. If it were one of her friends, she’d probably be laughing hysterically as well. This line of thought seems to release something inside her and she smiles. The rest of the story should be easy.

“At this point, I still didn’t realize that it was a sex shop. I hadn’t seen the store and nothing about the storeroom indicated otherwise. Granted, I should have realized that spanking a prosthetic ass was a dead giveaway, but I’m an alien for Rao’s sake. I’d never seen anything like that in my entire life!

So, you can imagine, on my first day when I walked into the store, I was shocked. It was wall-to-wall dicks, vibrators, and all sorts of contraptions I didn’t know existed. Most of the day was spent with some shade of rosy embarrassment from head to toe. As much as I wanted to turn tail and run right out of there, I needed the job so I stuck it out. I learned a lot about sex and people in those two years I worked there.”

She grins at her friends, pausing briefly to wink at Lena. “Now, the really crazy part of my time working there happens about six months before I started working at CatCo��” Kara briefly glances at Alex before continuing her story.

“It was a Friday morning. We didn’t typically open until noon because the weekends were our busiest days with the latest hours. By this time, I was the assistant manager at the store so it wasn’t uncommon for me to open the store or close up at night. John and I had become friends at this point too so work was actually a lot of fun. Anyway, he had to drive up to our distribution center to sort out a shipment that had gotten delayed and left me in charge. 

Since we opened at noon, I would usually get there around 10:45 to get things ready. However, on this particular day, one of our alarms was triggered. I got a call from the security company that an internal motion sensor was activated. It was shocking because we had very good security and had never had an issue. After telling them to call the police, I headed to the store.

Now, in order to understand the story, I need to tell you the layout of the store. Upstairs was where most of the really risque, more fetish and BDSM stuff was kept. No one was allowed up there without a member of the staff accompanying them. The bottom floor was where most customers stayed.

The layout of the first floor consisted of five zones. Imagine it from left to right. Zone 1 was all the porn DVD’s. Zone 2 was all of our lower end sex toys, all the more tame offerings in the lower price ranges. Zone 3 was the higher end sex toys and more…advanced offerings. It was where the realistic asses were kept.”

She smiles and looks around at her friends, once again winking at her girlfriend. They are all grinning and seem to be amused by her story. Taking a sip of her rum, she sits her glass down, presses a soft kiss to Lena’s cheek and keeps going.

“Zone 4 was the checkout where we spent most of our shift. And finally, Zone 5 was all the wearables - we called it the ‘lingerie, leather, and lace’ section. Each section had a camera directly focused on it as well as various other cameras throughout the store. There were motion sensors that were active when the store was armed and alarms on all the doors. Another bonus is that we weren’t far from one of the local police precincts.

To say that John and I were shocked about the break-in is an understatement. In the 18 months I had been there, we hadn’t had any issues and John said he’d never had any in the 3 years he’d been there before me. This thief was very savvy. They broke one of the windows on the lower level close to the lower end toys in Zone 2. For some reason, the alarms were only set to go off if the upper windows were breached and not these. 

When the thief got in, they pretty much had the run of the store as long as they stayed clear of the motion sensors. Based on what I saw when I got there to meet the cops, the thief was initially after the DVD’s. Unfortunately for them, we keep the discs in a locked cabinet behind the checkout so the cases on the display are all empty.”

Kara chuckles and glances over at Alex, both of them have an amused twinkle in their eyes. She smiles at her sister and proceeds.

“The crook was clever, they were wearing a full bodysuit to cover their face and all their skin so their identity was well masked. When we watched the security footage back, it was evident that when the thief couldn’t get the DVD’s they decided to randomly grab whatever they could. However, instead of going for the high end toys and wearables, the sports car equivalent of goods for sexual pleasure, they stuffed as many of the cheapest, flimsiest dildos, foulest bottles of lube, and random edible things into their backpack. They did all that without triggering any alarms too. It wasn’t until they were climbing out of the broken window that they nicked one of the motion sensors on some of the more expensive products and kicked off the alarms. 

Once that alarm was triggered, I got the phone call and dispatched the police. By the time I got to the store, the woman my sister was dating at the time, who was a detective at the precinct up the street, was there waiting for me. Maggie and I were working through what was taken and documenting all the goods stolen. I still laugh about how many times Maggie had to write the words dildo, edible underwear, and lube in that report. 

What I didn’t know at the time was Maggie texted Alex to let her know the store had been broken into and Alex was making her way there to check on me. Maggie and I had been there for about 30 minutes before we heard a commotion outside the door.” 

She grins widely and nods her head at Alex, giving her permission to take over the telling of the story.

“I love telling this part of the story.” Alex beams, placing her empty tumbler on the table in front of her and leaning forward on the couch. The redhead claps her hands together as she dives into her part of the story. 

“I parked at a restaurant a block or so away. We went there a lot so I knew the owner and I figured we could grab some lunch once everything was squared away. As I was walking toward the scene, I saw this guy running toward me like a madman. There are things flying out of his backpack and he seems like he’s running from something. I pause for a minute and step to the side, not wanting to get taken out by the guy. 

That’s when I realized he was leaving a trail of dildos, lube, and edible underwear in his wake. It was like a tsunami of cheap sex aids covering the sidewalk around us. I had already grabbed my badge so I just called out for him to stop and flashed it up at him. Within seconds, the guy was on his knees in front of me, his palms up and sobbing out ‘It was MeEeEnnE!!! I stole the diLDoS!!!’”

The entire room erupts into laughter. There isn’t a dry eye in the entire place. It’s how this story always ends…lots of laughter and disbelief. When it all eventually dies down, Kara notices that Lena has gotten very quiet and she has a contemplative look on her face. Her plump bottom lip is trapped between her pristine white teeth and there is a faraway look in her malachite eyes.

Nia is the first to speak, pulling them all out of their brief silence. “Okay, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us that you worked at a sex shop before, Kara. This is pertinent information that you’ve been holding back!” She scoffs at her friend. “Also, that was the dumbest thief I’ve ever heard of. He took all the cheapest shit you had instead of the good shit. And…there’s a 24 hour coffee shop right next door to Cherry Poppins! He could have stayed there until the coast was clear and made off with his stash. What. An. Idiot.”

“Seriously! That’s where Drea and I usually go after our Poppins shopping trips.” Sam chimes in, shaking her head in disbelief before catching what she just revealed. She quickly clears her throat and changes the subject. “You’ve been holding out, Kara. You could have given us recommendations! You probably know more about this stuff than Lena does.” She smirks at her friend before looking at Andrea with a wink.

Andrea grins. “Yeah, Lena has been our go-to all this time and you’re the actual hidden expert sitting right in front of us.” The brunette looks over to her childhood friend and laughs. She nudges Sam and whispers, “She’s having some thoughts right now, connecting some things.”

They both giggle and watch as Lena’s hand drifts up to her still captured bottom lip, brushing lightly back and forth against the soft skin. Her green eyes are still glassy and staring past the room currently occupied. Right as they are about to say something, Lena speaks.

“So, this whole time, you’ve been holding out on me?!” Lena’s voice comes out far more breathy and deeper than she wanted. Her eyes suddenly focus intently on Kara’s. “Wait! This makes so much more sense now. This is why you know so much about the…”

“NO!!!” Alex screeches. “Do. Not. Finish. That. Sentence. Lena. Luthor.” She points a menacing finger in the direction of her friend, her sister’s girlfriend. 

The rest of the room laughs, but all of them notice the look of wanton desire on the CEO’s face, the way she is not so subtly devouring Kara with her eyes. It slowly becomes evident that they need to get out of this apartment before they see something they can’t ever forget. 

Lena slowly moves her gaze from Kara over to Alex before a devilish smirk plays across her lips. “Then I suggest you say your goodbyes, Agent Danvers.” She languidly licks her lips and lets her eyes track down Kara’s body again before looking back at the rest of their friends. “All of you should probably call it a night. I have some things to talk to my girlfriend about and we don’t need an audience.”

She pauses for a moment, quirks her brow, and looks directly into cerulean eyes with a smirk. “Unless you’re into that? Seems there’s quite a few things I don’t know about you…yet.”

“Yep, Yes! Okay.” Alex says, bolting up from the couch. ���I think it’s definitely time to go.” She grabs Kelly’s hand to pull her off the couch and is quickly followed by Nia. The three of them grab their belongings and dash toward the door.

“Just leave everything, we will clean up tomorrow. Frank is waiting downstairs to see you home.” Lena smiles, her eyes drifting over to the remaining two people occupying the adjacent oversized chair. “That’s your queue to make your way down to the guest apartment. Don’t worry, the penthouse is sound proof so you won’t hear anything.” 

Andrea and Sam both laugh. Having known Lena the longest, they are familiar with her antics. They both roll their eyes as they stand and gather their things to head to the floor below and the apartment they are staying in while visiting National City. 

“I would say have fun tonight, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Sam winks, pulling her girlfriend toward the door. “We’ll see you guys for brunch tomorrow.”

As the door closes behind them, Lena turns and straddles Kara’s lap. As her lips hover just above the blonde’s, she rubs her nose against her girlfriends and takes a deep breath. “I think we have some things to discuss, Miss Danvers.” Kara grins and lifts them from the couch, drifting toward the bedroom. “You’ve certainly been holding out on me and surely you have things to show me.”

And that’s how Lena found out Kara once worked at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.

[hargrove-mayfields]

💗Happy Valentine's Day!!💗

As voted by my followers, here’s my fic to celebrate!

~~

Stick to the plan.

Everything will be fine. Everything will be just fine and dandy. Just as long as he doesn’t deviate from the plan.

Except Steve can’t find the present box. At least he still has a good half hour before Billy gets here, he just has to remember where he put it. Or find it.

As of the few times he’d already checked, it wasn’t in the bedside table, under the coffee table, in any of his jacket pockets, or in the entertainment center. Nor was it left on the floor anywhere, put through the wash, or even still in the shopping bag accidentally thrown in the garbage. He’d checked absolutely everywhere.

Everywhere! And now there’s only twenty-eight minutes until Billy’s going to arrive and Steve is getting very close to a full panic.

He’ll try the checklist one more time, really quickly. Just to be sure. It’s not in any of the bedrooms, the living space, any of the bathrooms, the kitchen, the salon, or the linen closet. The small red box with Billy’s gift inside of it is missing.

No denying it now; this is their first official, on script Valentine’s Day and Steve is going to ruin it all. Now that there’s less than ten minutes until Billy’s going to get here, he’s got to think of a backup plan. Billy’s not picky, maybe he’d accept free hug coupons or something else super tacky.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

Billy’s been with Steve through some pretty tough shit, and somehow they’ve been in love through it all. Three years of monster fights, shitty abusers, hospital trips. That kind of dedication deserves a better way to honor it than the kind of holiday gift kindergarteners make in their classrooms.

And the gift he’d bought Billy would’ve done exactly that if he hadn’t lost it! Steve runs his fingers nervously through his hair so many times the spray has started to break down and lose its style completely.

He’s about to run back upstairs and attempt to salvage it when he hears the pounding of Billy’s speakers get closer from the street to his driveway. Zero minutes left. Too late now.

Steve spins around in place to make sure he hadn’t left the house too much of a wreck, fluffs his hair up with a quick shake of his head, and opens the door just in time to see Billy step up to his stoop.

The smile he wears only falters slightly when he sees a large gift bag in Billy’s hand.

Oh he better think of something, and fast.

“Just couldn’t wait for me to knock, could ya?” Billy quips, lighting up as he comes face to face with Steve.

This is their third February together, but their first real Valentine’s Day. ‘85 was too risky, and ‘86 impossible to celebrate with all the grief going on in their lives. 1987 is going to be their year of normalcy, starting a month ago when they celebrated the arrival of the New Year together, and carrying on today with their celebrations of Saint Valentine and the day love was invented. Or.. whatever Valentines is about.

See, Steve’s still not quite the textbook scholar, but he knows a hell of a lot about love. And he knows he loves that vibrant magic he can see in Billy’s eyes when their hearts meet. He’ll do anything to see that look all day today, or really for the rest of their lives.

Steve doesn’t let his excitement, or the flurry of warmth in his heart, distract him from playing along with Billy’s faux-sarcasm, “Please. We both know you don’t listen to your music that loud anymore. You did that to get my attention.”

It took some time to get used to one another’s cues, and all the ins and outs of playing the Billy Hargrove game. Steve is also still good at memorizing sports charts, and a conversation with Billy isn’t too far off from one.

The end goal is just a loud, genuine laugh from the love of his life instead.

Billy gives him that satisfaction by cracking into a small bout of warm laughter, before he answers, “You got me there.”

Something else, it took a while for Billy to feel comfortable here at Steve’s house. Fair enough, given the sheer contrast between the trailer he shares with Mayfields, or even the smaller house they lived in before that, and the size of the Harrington mansion, but it was still a pretty massive hurtle towards getting their sync where it is today.

Today when Billy just gladly barges in and leans against Steve’s arms for extra support while he kicks off his shoes. He takes a second to look around, his smile growing even wider at all the festive details. Red and pink streamers above the door and in the archways. Heart-shaped tinsel around the bannister. Jelly stickers in the shapes of Cupid on the windows.

It’s all a little.. much, admittedly.

“Looks nice in here.” Billy seems to like it though, but, just in case he had missed some sarcasm there, Steve goes with it.

He plays it off, knowing full well that Billy can see through his act, “Please. It looks like the holiday aisle at a dollar store threw up in here.”

And Billy does too. He barely even acknowledges Steve’s denial and keeps staring in awe at the patchwork heart wreath on the front door, “All we have at my place is a card Max made for me and Sue when she was like, 7.”

Billy sounds so at ease talking about his family now. Just the tone of his voice makes Steve so proud. He almost forgets that he’s supposed to be cheeky, “Just invite my mom over and she’ll turn your place into a disaster too.”

“Got my own ma now, thanks.” And with that, like that sort of claim isn't groundbreaking progress for him, Billy casually steals a Hershey kiss from the candy dish, in the same movement plopping his gift bag down onto the coffee table and himself down onto the plush sofa.

Steve just watches, his turn to be the one who feels awkward in this house. Through no fault of Billy’s, Steve is back to worrying about the missing gift, and his thoughts start to spiral. He worries that Billy hates the decorations, the holiday, the house. The stupid messy house that swallowed up his perfect Valentine’s gift and ruined this special day.

“Don’t be so stiff, Stevie. Todays a day just for you and me, and these little chocolate bitches.” Billy’s relaxed, but slightly muffled by half-melted chocolate on his teeth, voice cuts through that depressing internal monologue.

Steve shakes his head to somehow physically clear away the thoughts, then blows a puff of air to move the hair that gets loose in his face. This gift thing is really making him upset and now he feels worse for making it Billy’s problem too, “Sorry, just. I was thinking…”

He takes his place next to Billy on the sofa, their combined weight pulling the white and pink heart patterned Afghan off of the back. If the way Billy drags it the rest of the way over himself and nuzzles into the warm blanket is any indication of how comfortable he feels, Steve can be at least a little relieved about the tackiness.

Billy, after he’s cozy, remembers his curiosity about Steve and his uncharacteristic lack of Steveness, “Yeah? ‘Bout what?”

“Just you and us and things.” He claims.

That certainly gets Billy’s attention. He sits up a little straighter, and bumps Steve’s knee with his as he asks, “All good things?”

“Mhm.” Steve assures him, leaning over to give him a soft kiss on his cheek, to seal the promise.

It doesn’t seem to satiate Billy’s worries completely though. He worries about a lot of things anymore, and Steve can’t blame him. He’s been through hell and some days he barely knows what’s real. Still, it doesn’t make him any less sad when Billy asks, “But you gotta have some bad thoughts about us, right?”

“No, baby. Never.” Steve answers automatically, because it’s true. All the fear and pity and doubt he’d felt before, he never wants that again. He just wants to be happy, and for as long as Billy is going to come to him with those sparkling ocean eyes, he’s going to believe in that love. And he’ll do anything to keep it, whether it’s a good idea or not.

“This isn’t exactly the most romantic date..” Billy points out as though it contrasts this, but Steve did that intentionally for Billy and his comfort. Not because of some mysterious bad thought against Billy.

Without saying that outright, because he doesn’t want to sound like he’s blaming him, Steve promises, “I told you I don’t care about that stuff. Not with you.”

Billy seems to accept it, judging from the way his face shifts away from tension, and he snuggles closer to Steve to ask, “So what’s your big plan for tonight?”

Now Steve is really glad he didn’t give in to his instincts and make some massive fancy dinner. Billy keeps fishing for the big reveal, probably fretting that Steve is going to surprise him.

He’s relieved to be able to answer, “Um, I guess I don’t really have one.”

Billy tilts his head and scrunches his nose, not buying it, “Oh, come on. Steve Harrington, king of the romantics, doesn’t have a plan this February the 14th?”

All this questioning is making Steve shy now, but he’s still sure it was the right decision to not overwhelm a recently recovered Billy. He just shrugs a little, “Not really.. I mean, this was supposed to be a casual thing, right?”

The next thing Steve knows, Billy is leaning away from him to grab the tall gift bag he brought off of the table in front of them, a noticeable shake in his hands. Steve thinks nothing of it, because he’s too curious about what’s inside, and too used to watching a more broken version of Billy.

When the bag is finally placed in Steve’s two open palms, Billy clears his throat and speaks, “Uh.. I got you this and I want you to open it.”

Steve suddenly feels a pang of nerves in his chest, remembering that he has no idea where his present for Billy is. He stalls, “What is it?”

“Like I’m gonna tell. You gotta open it.” Billy playfully, and so gently he barely feels it, shoves Steve with both hands. They both laugh softly, and then there’s no more putting it off.

Steve slowly reaches into the bag, his jaw actually dropping when he takes out its contents.

It’s three paintings on watercolor paper, all of him as the model in monochrome palettes. Steve recognizes the poses from Polaroid photos they’ve taken throughout their time together. Ones that Billy kept in his pocket or wallet for good luck.

Steve tears up right away realizing that Billy still carries them with him, a habit he thought went away during the awful summer of ‘85.

“Almost got my ass busted over those by my nosy ass PT, so you better be grateful.” Billy explains jokingly, studying Steve’s reaction carefully. His actual reaction dissolves into something even more loving and emotional, realizing that Billy went through the effort of making these during his physical therapy sessions.

He’s graduated the program since, but the idea of his partner, when he could barely move his fingers, learning to hold a paintbrush again and sit upright to make this for Steve. It’s beautiful. Almost as fascinating as the quality of the paintings themselves.

“Billy, these are amazing..” Steve proclaims breathlessly, so touched he struggles to gather his words, “I’m going to frame them.”

Billy blushes, flattered by the genuine reaction, but he’s got to play it cool, because this is Billy Hargrove, “And display ‘em above your bed?”

“Mhm! That way you can watch over me, my protector.” Steve gently puts the paintings back down, so he can kiss Billy on the lips. A quick press, nothing special, but a wordless way to thank him.

When they pull away, Billy is flushed even pinker, and the lop-sided smile on his face shows he’s all flustered still. Steve isn’t expecting him to change the subject so quickly though, and it takes him by surprise when Billy, to get the attention off of himself, turns it around to ask about Steve’s gift, “Alright, alright. What’cha got, Stevie, babe?”

“It’s upstairs. Be back in a sec?” Steve lies, instantly feeling super guilty about it. Billy gave him such a nice gift and he’s supposed to just admit he lost his? No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen.

Then Billy will think he doesn’t care or know anything about him, and he’ll be heartbroken, and Steve just has to find that stupid goddamn-

“Take your time, gazelle. I got all night.” Billy yawns and stretches out casually all over the entire couch with Steve’s spot open now, smiling contentedly to himself. As much as Steve wants to stay and appreciate the view, in the way his cotton sweatshirt rides up his scarred stomach just a little, and his longer curls fan out all over the couch’s armrest. Beautiful.

But Steve has to run upstairs and freak the fuck out right now.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

Steve whisper-curses to himself, rummaging through piles of upturned shit from his search earlier. Dirty clothes, bedsheets, old shoes, all tossed aside carelessly in his frantic attempts at finding this damned gift box.

“Where are you, you stupid present?!”

Every room, top to bottom. But it’s nowhere. He’s ruined everything. Billy’s going to hate him for not getting him anything, and then he’s going to leave him, and on Valentines day of all days, and Steve’s going to spend the rest of his life all alone and-

“Steve?” Billy’s voice cuts through the cloud of angry thoughts to reach him upstairs.

It’s over. He’s got nothing, no excuse even. Steve calls back, a little out of breath and shaky, “Yeah, bubs?”

No response. Steve’s heart sinks then, his thoughts of Billy’s hatred switched out with concern for his safety. Without a second thought about some superficial gift, Steve bolts down the steps, stopping in a dead skid when Billy is right there instead of in the living room.

Billy, with a small red box in his hands. He found the gift! Steve is saved!

Until- “You could’ve just broken up with me.”

Billy tosses the box at him harshly, the precious item only caught by Steve, despite almost falling on the floor, because of the muscle weakness behind Billy’s throw. He wears a cold scowl on his face, though it’s unable to mask the tears in his eyes. Now Steve is just confused.

He reaches out to him, “Billy no.. Why.. Why would I do something like that?”

“Jesus, cut the bullshit, Steve! If I’m not good enough for you, just say it! We’ve all been thinking it already! Just open your fucking mouth and say it!” Billy rambles, from the sound of it trying to raise his voice, but failing against grief. He just sounds broken and it makes Steve feel broken.

Steve guesses what he’s talking about, because he genuinely has no clue, and he just wants to fix it, “But I love the paintings! Just because they’re homemade doesn’t mean they’re worth any less..”

A flash of something angry takes over the heartbreak in Billy’s face, as he storms back to the living room and grabs one of those very paintings. When he picks it up, it looks like he’s about to tear it in half. Steve gasps, rushing to him, but nothing happens. Defeated by something within himself, Billy drops the painting on its face instead of destroying it, and breaks down in tears.

“I’ll take the gift back if you don’t like them.. I’ll make you something special this time, I promise!” Steve pleads, assuming Billy doesn’t like the present he got because it’s too fancy, too much of a reminder of the gap between them that used to keep them separated, before their hearts reached out.

Wrong move.

“What, So you can give ‘em back to your other bitch? I’m not gonna be an accessory Steve!” Billy bites, too sad to sound mean.

“What?” Steve’s eyes get wide. Billy thinks he’s cheating now?

“What part don’t you get? I spend fucking- months on your shit, and you don’t even get me fucking anything.” Billy’s voice is hoarse and painful. He probably needs his inhaler, his medication. Steve desperately wants to take care of him in the moment, but there’s some wedge in his way. Something he can’t even grasp, let alone begin to move it.

“Could've at least tried to hide the evidence ‘stead of just shoving it in the couch cushions..”

Oh. Oh.

Billy had only found the present because Steve had lost it out of his pocket and straight into the void that is his ima’s too soft taste in furniture. But he thought he hid it there. Oh Steve has to fix this, now.

“No, no, Billy. Sweetie. Those are for you. I bought them for you.”

Billy only eyes him skeptically. The twitch of the corner of his mouth tells Steve he wants to believe him, but he’s just not there yet. Steve’s going to try to fix it as carefully as he can, collecting all the information before he tries anything, since so much ignorance had clouded their mutual understanding before.

“Is that what you thought? That I really wouldn’t get you anything?”

Billy shrugs harshly, obviously self-conscious about it now, maybe even guilty, just for feeling his feelings. Fuck everybody who ever made Billy feel like he wasn’t entitled to his own thoughts and gut feelings and emotions. It’s part of what makes getting him to accept love so hard.

“Well it wouldn’t have even crossed my mind if you weren’t acting so weird. All this “casual” shit.. Like I’m.. Like we don’t matter.” Billy grumbles, short and barely audible.

“I just didn’t want to overwhelm you. I'm kind of.. a lot, when it comes to this stuff.” Steve explains it all as carefully as he can, as much as he wants to go hug Billy, staying stock still so the other knows just how genuine he is in his respect for his boundaries, “I’ll be honest, I decorated this room, and I wrote you a love note, and I bought extra wood for the fireplace to burn all night. I even baked a heart shaped cake. It’s in the freezer. But I panicked and I thought.. I thought I’d scare you off.”

Steve pauses only to catch his breath from talking too fast , “And then I couldn’t find the present I bought, and I thought I’d ruined everything. You gave me those beautiful paintings and I totally lost my cool. I should've just explained but I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Billy looks at him, a leftover tear staining his cheek, and Steve looks at Billy. They apologize at the exact same time, “I’m sorry..”

Again, they speak at once, each hearing the other’s voice more than their own declarations. This is exactly what they needed, to talk instead of getting in their heads.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you, baby.”

Steve moves first, and Billy lets him. He opens his arms to say that the hug Steve wants is okay to take. They embrace, Billy melting into the taller boy's arms, drying his tears on the brunet's soft pink sweater.

He mumbles, his voice still thick with tears, “Do you forgive me?”

Steve doesn’t even have to consider his response, automatically promising, “Of course, baby. Always.”

“But I-“ Billy tries to argue, looking up and showing off those expansive, hurting eyes.

Steve doesn’t even let him finish his worries before he’s assuring, “It’s okay. We both assumed things. Next time, let’s not do surprises.”

Billy nods, and his silver, dangling earring brushes against Steve’s collar bone. Oh yeah, the present! After all of that fretting, he’d forgotten to give Billy the present back!

“Wanna try your present on?”

Billy doesn’t even try to hide his excitement or force it to the back of his expression this time, wearing a full, glowing smile to go with his bashful giggle. He’s clearly excited, something Billy doesn’t let himself show as often, a lasting fear of his own joy from his childhood.

Now they have nothing to worry about, except Steve does worry, he worries Billy won’t like the earrings, irrationally, based on his reaction when Steve opens the box.

He gasps and then just stares. Like he doesn’t know what to do.

Billy gently takes it from him, and picks up one of the two pearl earrings inside. They’re thin golden hoops, with perfect round, blue-ish pearls delicately hanging from the bottom. The sparkle is back in his gaze, wonder aimed at the pair he’d been so fixated on when he first saw them last month at the shopping mall.

He hadn’t said he wanted them, and would never admit to it in public thanks to the scars of his past, but the look on his face is identical to the one he wore when he saw Steve again for the first time after a few months in the hospital. That’s gotta be a good sign.

Though when he speaks, he masks his excitement with doubt, “They’re too pretty for me.”

Steve won’t entertain that at all, because it’s so thoroughly untrue. In his eyes, Billy deserves the world. Nothing at all compares to him. Hell, that’s probably why Steve was so scared to mess up today.

“Oh, shush. They were made for you.”

To prove it, Steve takes one of the earrings and, after delicately moving a strand of Billy’s wild curls out of the way, puts it through his ear. It shines opalescence perfectly onto his lightly tanned, freckled skin. Steve quickly puts the other in to match, placing a hand on each of Billy’s shoulders and leaning back to see.

The sight of him like this takes Steve's breath away. “Holy shit.”

His smile of adoration must reach his ears, because Billy questions the way Steve looks at him, after looking down bashfully, but still peeking back up at Steve through his eyelashes, “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.. You’re gorgeous.” Steve can’t help himself. He kisses Billy softly, and then again, and again. Peppering Billy's face with gentle pecks, from his rosy lips to his freckled cheeks, to that cute little crinkle in his forehead when he’s flustered.

Billy eventually wiggles free from the loose hold of Steve’s arms around him to go look at himself in the entryway mirror, titling his head from side to side as he examines every last detail of his own reflection adorned with his new earrings.

He rocks on his heels, getting closer to the mirror then pulling back, one of the ways he’s started to burn off the happy energy. A stim, so Steve’s been taught. He has them too, but he never knew what they were called. The quiet, happy chuckle that accompanies the motion is one too.

Finally Steve feels like he’s done something right.

Billy turns back around and gushes, “Wanna know something cool about pearls?”

“Shoot.” Steve nods, genuinely interested though he’s only watching the gentle swing of the small jewelry with every movement of Billy’s. Beautifully enchanting.

“One, they’re fireproof. I think that’s badass. Two, none of them are the same, like snowflakes! Also badass. Three, they’re a symbol for loyalty.” Billy holds up a finger with each item he counts, shaking his hand out a little between to burn off a little excitement. It’s his way of saying, though he does translate it for Steve as well, “Basically, they’re perfect, Stevie. Thank you.”

Steve hums in his throat, a content little noise, and gives Billy a bunny kiss. Just to be sure everything is truly as back to normal as it feels, he asks, “Are we okay?”

Billy tilts his face up to kiss Steve’s nose, “Yeah. I think we’re better than okay.”

“In that case..” Steve smiles, relieved, and decides it’s finally time to move this date along, “Want a slice of cake?”

Billy raises an eyebrow like he isn’t sure, but his pearly grin gives his true feelings away, “Is it strawberry?”

“Obviously. I made it just for you!” Steve finally admits to his true romantic plan, and the gestures he went through for today. He doesn’t need to hide himself. That only makes things more complicated.

The flattered laugh that earns from Billy is just proof that this is the easier way, “You know me so well.”

Reflecting on it now, he really does know him. They’re going to mess up, and things won’t always be super perfect, but deep down he knows Billy’s heart. They’d fought hard to savor the love that makes that possible, and to have each other and just be safe.

This wasn’t enough to break them. Nothing is. And February 14th, 1987, is the day Steve Harrington promises out loud to love Billy for the rest of their lives, and to never, ever let something as stupid as his own worries get in the way of that again.

Three years later, on that very day, they got ‘married’ on a beach in California.

In ‘98, they took their four year old twins, a boy and a girl, out on the holiday to see Billboard Dad in the theaters.

They have a lot of special Valentine's Days, but none as much as the first, when Steve gifted Billy a pair of earrings he wore one or both of every single day from there on out, and when everything actually worked out just fine.

~~~

Now that I’m not spoiling anything, here’s the results for the polls!! The final prompt ended up being:

PRESENT: the earrings he was eyeing at the mall

LOCATION: Steve’s house

ANGST: two sided miscommunication

Thank you all for voting by the way!! Much love from EJ!! <3

[revhase]

Amon and Hase.

“Please Amon, Please.”

He never knew that this would be the day where he’s sat at his desk, sat in his chair and facing him. The words burned like hot coals that sat on his tongue, slowly burning their way through his flesh and spilling out. Hase’s eyes burned as he teared up saying those words but unaware that his two ‘kids’ could hear the conversation from the outside. Staring at his face with a sense of desperation just to have his niece back even though she’s already dead.

“Please just give her body back.”

He begged to her killer, he’s begging and if needed he would get on his knees and beg with his hands together and he would weep. Staring at Amon yet he remained silent until he spoke up.

“Oh?”

Is that all he had to say? Just fucking ‘oh’? Sadness and desperation soon vanished and got replaced with bitter anger, the phone call repeating over and over in his mind even if it has been so many days, months, years - he wasn’t sure how long it’s been but he knew, Hase knew that Amon had killed her.

The talk got them nowhere, it ended up in Hase screaming at Amon and him walking out. Sniffling as he wiped his face and calmed himself down and exited the office. As he opened the door he noticed one of his ‘kids’ Miblex - they’re not his kids but they’ve been around since day one so he just.. took them in eventually. Soon enough the lies that had been woven started to snap and the first thing Miblex spoke were:

‘Vents..’

He knew instantly that’s where his niece were and his stomach dropped. Amon had already moved into the cafeteria at this point and in now a hot pursuit- Hase followed. Miblex didn’t ask any questions but just allowed Hase to do his own thing and once Sero appeared. . They all silently understood. He slammed open the doors of the place and scanned the room yet he couldn’t find Amon, scoffing under his breath but somehow caught his eye, the poster on the wall just slightly peeled away- he knew where the bastard were. Rushing head first towards and ripping it off the wall without hesitation and coming face to face with the room. The static filled his ears and he swore his eardrums were about to burst but what got his attention wasn’t the rusted cell in front of him or Amon staring inside tutting at the lack of cleaning, it were seeing the walls covered in missing posters of his niece.

“What..”

Staring in horror as be dragged his fingers across the worn pieces of papers and stared at the blurred photo and smudged name, she’s here. His niece were here. Aimee- she were-

“Where the fuck is Aimee Amon.”

Spoke with nothing but pure anger and spite, he felt a snarl building up and god the anger radiated off him but once Sero and Miblex entered . . He didn’t want to get violent in front of them. Yet Amon feared what they’ll see.

“GET OUT.”

His voice some sort of yelled scream, he had his secret exposed.

“Or what? You going to gut them like you did to her? WHERE THE FUCK IS AIMEE?!”

“SHUT UP HASE.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, it wasn’t a cute little ‘hehe’ or a belly laugh, this were something that made his eyes widen and his mouth expand, the laugh were manic - sounded like something you’d hear on tv when the character goes insane, he were laughing at Amon. He’s scared, the bastard is scared.

“YOU SILLY FUCKING BOY.”

This were definitely Hase’s own adrenaline pumping him right now, it fuelled his body and kept him just on that small brink of fight or flight but in a moment it will be fight. In a split moment Amon got a chance to leave whilst Hase turned his attention to the mechanical screaming of the tubes inside but he now turned to his children and reminded them that they’re safe . . After all, it’s hard watching adult men yell and scream at one another.

That’s when Hase seen it, that’s when he seen him climbing up the ladders like it were just a normal day and so once more he chased after this rabbit like some hellbent dog yet he wasn’t ready for the next scene. Pushing the vent door open and the putrid smell of what he could only describe as rotting flesh and sour milk filled his nose but he climbed in, into the vents and come to a small opening where he seen Amon.

“You bastard, you think you can esc-. . Amon what is this?”

Staring at a gap once again yet his body froze as he stared at the scene below. It looked like a- a-. . Well, someone had painted the town red. His fist turned so quickly and he had made a solid connection with Amon’s face. His hands now gripped his collar as he pushed him against the wall, tears fell down his face as Hase now let go of that anger built up.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?! WHERE IS AIMEE AMON?! GIVE HER BACK GO ME!”

His voice echoed and vibrated off the metal walls, bouncing all over until it screamed back

“SHE’S GONE HASE. I GOT RID OF THAT USELESS THING. SHE WERE A FAILURE.”

“WHAT?! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN?!”

“SHE WERE USELESS. . So I got rid of her. She were a failed test subject for my experiments. A failed test for the beloved.”

And it were at that moment Hase had completely lost it, he had let go of Amon and turned at the scene below. Banging his hands on the metal gate and just letting out sounds of desperation: cries, pleads, begs- yet Amon stood there with a grin on his face, watching this ‘tough old man’ crumble down to a sad little boy.

.

.

Maybe he were right.. maybe Hase is just a sad little boy.

@amonsalvador

@aimeewills

@stillsero

@mibblex

[depressed-sock]

Saving two birds with one stone

(865 words) by

Chapters: 1/3

Relationships: Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Shepard & Garrus Vakarian, nonbinary Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

Characters: Nonbinary Shepard (Mass Effect) - Character, Garrus Vakarian, Garrus Vakarian's Team

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Canon Temporary Character Death, Mentioned at least - Freeform

(Karson and Silas Shepard)

...

So maybe Silas hadn't fully thought this through. Maybe they should have actually come up with a plan instead of jumping onto the nearest passenger ship to Omega.

Maybe they should have put some of those hard-won and planned battle strategies in their head to actual use. But they didn’t and now they’re here, in a space crowded by the desperate and the criminal waiting for the ship to dock.

Because of course, they‘ve done this. Doesn’t really surprise them but Silas had been under the impression they finally got some self-control in this new life. Taking over as the Shadow Broker had required them to think first before they acted. They had to weigh every mission and every outcome to figure out how it would work in the eventual war against the Reapers. Figure out what’s valuable, what’s hazardous, and what could be left the fuck alone.

How does this particular venture weigh into it? It doesn't. Because what'll happen here is already set in stone.

Garrus will lose his hodge-podge team of vigilantes due to betrayal and he will end up being recruited to fight the Collectors. There's nothing to gain here except… Fuck when did they get this sentimental? It isn't even their Garrus.

Except it kinda is... It's just that this Garrus doesn't know Silas Shepard. This Garrus has been tempered by Karson Shepard’s paragon attitude on life and hopefully, that has somehow translated into Garrus not being as reckless as he'd been under Silas. Though probably not by much considering he’d still gone to Omega to be a vigilante.

They sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose as the passenger ship finally docks into Omega's port. This is a bad idea. They need to be preparing for Liara to eventually try to storm the Shadow Broker’s lair. It’s still almost a year or so off but they need to set the foundation. Make sure she’s ready and capable to take over the majority of the coordinating efforts. That way when Silas does stupid shit like this there’s at least someone at the base who can take care of all the more important things.

They should get off this ship, make contact with a few potential contacts, and then leave. But… When was the last time they did something for themself? When did they do something because they wanted to and not because they had to? They’ve been working nonstop since they first woke up. Quietly putting things into place in preparation. Doing everything for the sake of saving as many people as possible. What’s the point of any of this if they couldn't even save the people they care about?

What’s the point since they had to make the decision to let their brother die in the vacuum of space? They could have saved him. It was an option. They could have but it wouldn’t have been worth the loss of knowledge. At least that’s what they keep telling themself. They couldn’t afford for how much that choice would change what they already know will happen.

But this thing here? This is small, and insignificant to the grander part of the galaxy.

Except it wouldn’t be to Garrus. He’d carry the loss of this team until the end of the war and possibly even longer. It wouldn’t break him, but it would be a scar that would never really go away.

And fuck do they miss him. They miss his sarcasm, the comradery, and just him being there for them at the end of the day.

Besides, saving Garrus’s team is the least Silas can do for the hours of effort Garrus put into keeping Silas sane in their old timeline. Saving his team won't even be that hard to do. Maybe Silas will even get some recruits for their own operations when eventually Garrus goes off to fight the Collectors. Because he will do that. There is no doubt in their mind that Garrus will follow Karson Shephard to hell and back.

He would’ve done the same for Silas. He did do the same for Silas.

So Silas will save his team. Possibly poaching them out from under him when he goes out to be a big hero with their brother. There was a Batarian hacker wasn’t there? Or something like that. That alone already makes this idea worth it. The Batarian could be a major asset, one that could hopefully help evacuate a system prematurely before it explodes.

Right, they nod their head as if to assure themself that this is a sane plan. At least it is a plan. Far better than just the idea that had set them off on this mission in the first place.

They take in a breath as they step into place in the line that’s begun to form, following the other poor misbegotten people who file slowly out of the ship. Another deep breath and then they hook their mask over their face and follow it with a hood to completely obscure their features.

Gone is Silas Shephard for the time being.

The man who walks out of the ship is called Marcus Nix and he has an Archangel to find.

[vintage-rejects]

Hello! I’m here to participate in the Peaceful Team Fortress 2 Bot Protest! If you don’t already know, there’s a serious bot problem within the game! Due to years of neglect, the game isn’t incredibly friendly for new players! Many people still play the game, as it’s such a beautiful peace of work! I’m here to stand by those people today! However, my love for this franchise doesn’t revolve around the game entirely.. No, I’m here to represent a very specific side of this fandom! The ones who focus on the beautiful characters of this franchise! The people who make up headcanons, theorize about lore, and create their own fan characters for this game! I’m more connected to that side of the fandom.

Team Fortress 2 means so much to me. I was in an incredibly toxic mental state about 2 years ago. I was incredibly sad, scared, and various other things under the sun. I was becoming a shell of myself, almost to a point I couldn’t recognize who I was. Somehow, I remembered these animated clips I saw years prior. I don’t recall why I watched them all those years ago, or why I even remembered them at that moment. Though, I searched them up and found them. The “Meet the Team” videos. Curiously, I rewatched them and my life shifted completely.

Immediately, I began reading fanfiction out of complete curiosity. I consumed animated content hesitantly. I was slowly easing myself into this new—yet rather old—fandom I’ve never truly witnessed before. Per usual, I broke the news to my best friend of 8 years. I was expecting them not to share my interests, as we have that problem a lot. It’s always made me sad we never had one fandom in common… Until, they excitedly said they like TF2 as well! I was ecstatic, and immediately consumed all the content I could of this game! I impulsively downloaded the game, watched 2-hour long videos about the game, laughed at shitposts, and read every comic I could. I never felt this good in ages!

Team Fortress 2 unlocked my creativity, after it’s been stifled for so long. I have written words upon words of roleplays. I have thought up so many headcanons, these characters have started to feel like my own. I’ve made too many Spy fan characters, I really need to stop— I’ve written an essay about how this game saved me. I’ve told everyone in my life about it, because I love it so much! I’m closer to my best friend because of it. This game means a lot to me. These characters mean a lot to me!

I’ve tried to take breaks from TF2, but every time I do… I miss it immensely. I love these silly, weird, older men. I love them so much. They make me unbelievably happy. Especially Spy. I cannot tell you exactly why he clicks so well for me, but he does. Anytime I see Spy in anything, I get so stupidly happy. Every Spy meme makes me laugh, and I could watch him move for hours. I love this character a lot. He’s the closest I’ll ever get to a comfort character, I think. He’s my baby, my son. My little man. I love him. He’s wonderful.

These characters are wonderful! They’re so complex and interesting! They’re so filled to the brim with life! The writers put so much love into them! Not to mention, the animation and comic art is beautiful! TF2 just drips with personality!! It’s amazing!

My favorite part is the fandom. The TF2 fandom is one of the more wholesome fandoms I’ve ever seen. I’ve never really seen a controversy within this fandom (maybe it’s because I’m a very recent fan). Everyone is incredibly welcoming, and sorta treat you like you were always there. As soon as I started this blog, and posted my little silly posts, people much more known in this space replied like they’ve always known me. So many people reply with enthusiasm, and show the same exact passion I have for these characters!

Not only that, the SFM community is amazing! They make beautiful animations whenever they can! They’re dedicated, talented people! SFMs are always a blast to watch! They’re very lovely! Not to mention all the fanart people make! It’s incredible! Each piece of art is made with love, passion, and dedication! It’s so exciting to see people express themselves with something they love so much!! We cannot forget those who spend so much time on fanfictions! Or Headcanons! Those who take time to write out requests solely to make others happy! They’re very inspiring people!

I also want to stress how funny this community is. God, these guys are hilarious! Every joke lands and gets a very ugly laugh outta me! You guys are super funny, remember that!!

Finally, I want to address how this community is very strong. Like today! They’re standing together to save a game they love so much. That is dedication! It’s incredibly inspiring.

Team Fortress 2 means a lot to me. It gave me my creativity back. It strengthened my friendship of over 8 years. It introduced me to such a loving, hilarious, talented community. It gave me a small platform to express myself. I’m very thankful for having this silly, little blog. I’m thankful for every follower I have. I’m thankful TF2 exists, frankly. It’s given me so much I adore. I want to see it prosper for years to come.

#SaveTF2

[boykingdom]

Dean doesn’t have to drive far before he finds Cas. He’d had a hunch Cas might be waiting for him no matter the direction he went, but still he can’t help the sigh of relief he lets out when he sees the slump of Cas’ shoulders among the trees.

He doesn’t have to walk far, either, once he’s pulled the Impala into the grass beside the road and let the metal door shut behind him with a creak. He’s in the forest after a few paces—it’s a pretty forest, all green and overgrown, the tan of Cas’ coat standing out purely for its dullness. Cas’ back is to him and he’s looking down at something, hands in his pockets, but the rigidity with which he holds himself gives away his awareness of Dean’s presence. Cas won’t turn toward him but will angle his head so Dean can see the sharp line of his cheekbone, like he’s any sort of thing that would need ears to gauge how close Dean is.

Dean has half a mind to hesitate, to stop and take a deep breath and collect his thoughts or something, but he’s so fucking tired of not being near Cas and of schooling how much he gives away to Cas in every conversation that he walks up so their shoulders are inches apart and he doesn’t think twice about it. He looks down to take in what Cas is looking at and finds a small pond with a few muddy-gray fish scooting their bellies across the silt. Dean thinks Cas might be gearing up for a speech about the fish and creation and humanity, something nice and cinematic to bookend their journey, but instead Cas says, “Hello, Dean.”

That works, too. At least Dean knows how to respond to that one. “Heya, Cas.”

They’re silent for a second.

“Sam?” says Cas. 

“Went off to the Roadhouse. Wanted to see Bobby and Ellen and Jo,” says Dean. “But you knew that already.”

“Mm. I did.”

They both watch the fish drift. One comes close enough to the surface to form gentle ripples in the water.

Then Dean is smiling, because he can see Cas out of the corner of his eye, see the way he shifts and fidgets and is so clearly also looking at Dean out of the corner of his own eye. It occurs to Dean that Cas is nervous—that after everything they’ve been through, after the end of the world, after Cas’ big sacrifice, this angel of the Lord is nervous to speak to his best friend of twelve years. Dean can’t help but take the opportunity to tease him.

“What, did you think we’d never talk about it?”

A pause. Cas half-grumbles, “I thought I’d have a few decades to prepare something to say.”

And then Dean is laughing and laughing and bent over double with it because this whole thing is so fucking absurd and he’s so happy to be standing here next to Cas, weird and awkward Cas who pulled him out of Hell and told Dean he was in love with him just months ago. Cas who he thought he had lost forever. Dean laughs so hard he cries and then he—he cries, and cries, and he’s not laughing anymore. It happens fast and hard. Cas finally turns to him, eyes wide and hands suspended in front of him like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch. Dean’s sniveling and holding his jacket sleeve under his nose so his face doesn’t get all snotty but he probably looks fucking gross anyway, the way the tears won’t stop coming. Cas says, “Dean?” all worried and concerned. Dean practically falls forward into him, wraps his arms around Cas’ waist to clutch at the back of his coat and shakes when Cas immediately holds him in return.

“I missed you so bad,” Dean sobs into Cas’ shoulder. “I missed you so bad. I thought I would never see you again. I missed you so bad.”

“Oh,” Cas breathes. “I’m here. It’s okay. I’m right here.” Cas hugs him tighter, leaving no spaces between their bodies. His voice breaks a little when he says, “I missed you, too.”

They stand like that for a moment. The forest buzzes around them, twiddling with birds and squirrels and insects. Dean breathes Cas in, feels him warm and safe and real in his arms. It’s a small piece of Earth here in Heaven. Unlike any other time before, Dean lets himself lean into it, touch Cas without Death looming over their shoulders. It feels good.

Dean does calm down after a few minutes, and as much as he would love to freeze time and stay suspended in that moment, he knows he can have even more if he gives it one last push. He pulls away, Cas’ hands sliding off his coat, lingering. “Sorry,” he says, a little embarrassed despite himself.

“Don’t be,” says Cas, in a way a that shows he really means it. Dean clears his throat and looks at him. Cas looks back. The whole thing is so achingly familiar, so akin to how they were when they first met. Even when Cas was alien and unknowable and potentially a threat, Dean always had to stifle the breathless thrill of having Cas’ attention. He doesn’t stifle it now.

He hasn’t quite internalized all the things Cas said to him, but he can see Cas was telling the truth about one thing—he is clearly so happy to be standing at the edge of this pond with Dean. Nothing in his gaze is asking for something more.

And as much as Cas would argue differently, Dean isn’t as good as him. He was never content just wanting. He had long ago accepted that he could never have Cas, sure, had recognized that he would spend the rest of his life with a horrible ache in his chest, that he would white-knuckle the wheel of the Impala to keep himself from touching. But he couldn’t find peace with it. Love rotted in him like a body at the bottom of a well. He spent a long time thinking it would kill him and kill Cas too, that it was a weapon to be used against them both, that the heat of his gaze would actually burn Cas if he looked long enough. He still has to choke down those half-formed thoughts when he looks at Cas now and can see in his eyes that he loves Dean without reservation, that despite everything he doesn’t think of Dean’s love as a death sentence. That he wants him.

Dean’s mind was made up the second Bobby had mentioned Cas’ name on the porch. It took him too long to untangle that part of himself that couldn’t separate loving men from danger, but he did untangle it, in the end.

“I know I can do it,” Dean says, both to Cas and to himself, “but I think it might be hard.”

Cas’ brow flickers in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he answers, gesturing lamely at the two of them, at the space between them. He swallows, steels himself, thinks of all the words he spent the nights since Cas died murmuring into his pillow, deliriously drunk. “I don’t know— I don’t know how to be this to someone— to you. I’ve never— and you’re—”

He’s getting frustrated, is upset that after thinking so long and hard about this moment for so many years he somehow still doesn’t know how to explain to Cas how much he means to him, how much he wants him, how hard it is to beat down his self-hatred and accept that he might just deserve Cas, too. But Christ, he wants to try.

“Dean?” Cas says. Dean can see in his expression the flowering bud of hope. He is so beautiful.

“I love you too,” Dean says, because it’s the best explanation he can give. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat. Cas blinks; his mouth drops open. “God, Cas, you have to know that. Of course I love you too.”

“You mean...?” Cas can’t finish the question. He’s looking at Dean like a man finding faith, finding Heaven. Dean feels so overwhelmed and so happy for the two of them and surely he’s still red from crying before, but again he feels himself burning.

“I’ve been yours,” he chokes out. “You can have me. Please.”

Cas kisses Dean. It happens so fast that Dean feels it coming rather than sees it, feels Cas’ hands on his face, feels himself be tugged forward. Cas’ hands are shaking and Dean’s are too when he grips the front of Cas’ shirt and the back of his neck, eyes closed tight, learning the shape of his mouth. It’s hard and a little desperate and not at all artful, and Dean’s whole self feels a bit like an open wound but Cas is healing him, like he always has, like he has since the beginning.

Dean pulls away for air but doesn’t pull far, keeping his forehead pressed to Cas’ and his eyes shut. Cas’ thumb strokes his cheekbone. “Dean,” Cas says, and Dean takes a deep, shuddering breath. The way Cas says his name doesn’t scare him anymore.

Dean opens his eyes. He smiles. “Hi,” he says.

Cas smiles back.

**

They’re sitting in the Impala, Dean’s hand on Cas’ thigh, when Cas asks, “What do you want to do now?”

Dean pauses, thinks. The answer to what do you want has been Cas for so long, but he never let himself think far enough to decide what he would do if he ever got him. He’s safe, Cas is safe, Sam is safe. Realistically, he shouldn’t want for anything.

He looks out the Impala’s windshield, smooths the hand not holding Cas over the steering wheel. He knows that he loves this car with everything he is—that for a long time it was the only home he had. He also knows that he’s tired of the road. Desire has always come too easily to Dean.

“I think I’ll build us a house,” he answers, and immediately he knows it’s the right thing to do. They can pick a spot wherever Cas wants—Dean’s not picky. It’ll be something solid, something with walls that he built with trees he cut himself. Something that reflects the home he already built for Cas, the one that lives between his ribs.

Cas’ eyes light up. “I like that plan,” he says. “I want that, too.”

Years ago, Cas had sat in Dean’s passenger seat and asked him if he would rather have peace or freedom. Dean never got the chance to answer him.

Dean leans across the seat and kisses Cas again, open-mouthed, slow. He does it for him now and for the version of himself who mourned the distance between them. It’s answer enough.

[scott-mccall-the-hot-girl]

my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!

( as a new teen wolf stan )

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the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!

Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.

Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)

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okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies

Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim

Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.

Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)

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Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!

Artificial Love - songbvrd

Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.

Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)

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so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!

The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR

Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”

Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.

Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)

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me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*

Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape

Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”

Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”

Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.

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okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical

Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.

(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)

Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )

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so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite

Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.

Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.

Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )

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okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!

two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!

for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!

whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )

go check out:

eneiryu

as well as fallingforboys

here are some of my favorite fics by them ~

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys

even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys

memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys

skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys

i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys

whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys

between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu

cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu

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okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore

my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene

it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…

Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach

Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.

Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.

Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )

[sdvvillagers]

Families reactions for bachelorettes and bachelors expecting a baby? (｡◕‿‿◕｡) Who would be extatic about becoming grandparent/auntie and so on, and who'd be scared of new role?

First off, I am SO DANG SORRY for how long it took me to answer this.  Seriously, this ask has been in my inbox for months (along with another one that I SWEAR I’ll get to!  I’m sorry!).  Long asks like these make my brain seize up and it takes awhile to kick my brain in the pants and reboot it.  I tried to keep all responses vague in terms of spouse (for male or female partner) as well as vague in terms of pregnancy versus adoption.  Enjoy!

Alex - Evelyn and George never thought they’d see the day that they would become great-grandparents.  It seemed so far-fetched that they’d never really considered it as an option, not even when Alex got married.  It wasn’t until they actually heard Alex announce that he was going to be a father that the reality set in.  Evelyn was so overjoyed she burst into tears, beckoning Alex over to her so she could squeeze him as hard as her frail arms possibly could.  George was happy, of course, but more than anything he was proud.  Not only proud of Alex and what a wonderful father he would be, but admittedly proud of himself for living so full a life that he lived long enough to see himself become a great-grandfather.

Sam - Jodi has been excited about the prospect of having grandchildren ever since Sam was born.  Having a family and children of her own is rewarding, she can’t deny that, but there’s something different about grandkids.  She saw the way her own parents interacted with Sam and later Vincent, and saw a far more carefree relationship.  Grandparents don’t have to be disciplinarians, they don’t have to enforce strict bedtimes or limit sugar intake, they don’t have to clean up after messes or potty train.  Jodi loves being a mother when it comes to interacting with her children, it’s everything else that gets overwhelming.  Jodi definitely shrieks in excitement when Sam announces that he’s going to be a father.  Kent, usually a quiet and stoic man, will struggle to hold back his emotions as he congratulates his son.  It isn’t until later when he has a moment alone that he properly processes the news and finally allows himself to feel properly excited about it.  So much of his own children’s lives was missed by him, he hopes he can be a more present in the life of his grandchild.  And Vincent… well, Vincent is just tickled by the idea that he’ll be an uncle before he even turns 10 and will insist that everyone start calling him “Uncle Vincent” before the baby even arrives.

Seb - Robin has NO CHILL when it comes to Seb announcing that he’s going to be a father.  For years Robin worried about Seb, concerned that he would be a hermit forever and would never live a life outside of the basement.  Seeing Seb flourish the way he has and meet someone new was rewarding enough and even once Seb was in a relationship, Robin wasn’t sure if children were ever on his radar.  He didn’t seem like he wanted kids in his life and Robin still would have been happy for him even if he never pursued having children… at least that’s what she thought until the moment Seb announced he was going to be a father.  Full-on freakout on Robin’s part.  Demetrius is outwardly proud of Sebastian and congratulates him, but a part of Demetrius is worried.  His relationship as a father figure to Sebastian never really worked out and he wonders what his place will be in the life of Sebastian’s child and whether he will be treated as a grandfather or not.  Maru is SO excited to become an auntie, already she starts thinking of all the cool and fun things she wants to do with her niece/nephew.  She’s bound and determined to be the stereotypical “fun aunt”.

Shane - Marnie has spent most of her life worrying about Shane for various reasons; worried about his alcohol dependence, worried about his depression, worried about his loneliness, worried about his future.  When Shane finally does meet someone, Marnie is ecstatic.  Of course someone new will never fix a person in itself, having a partner at least helps to motivate Shane to get his life on the right track.  Marnie is absolutely thrilled when Shane announces he’s going to be a father and this is one area where she’s not worried one bit.  She’s seen how he is with Jas and what a wonderful father figure he’s been to her, Marnie’s just happy that he’ll have the chance to have this experience from the beginning.  As for Jas, she couldn’t be happier.  It’s always been a bit lonely for her, it’s been tough for her to find her place in the family dynamic.  But with Shane getting married and now a new baby arriving, Jas finally feels like she’s settling into a family and becoming part of something she’s always wanted.

Abigail - Caroline and Pierre are so proud of the woman that Abi has grown into.  Yes, they had their disagreements as Abi was growing up and even into her young adulthood, but those were all overcome once Abi started to make a life for herself.  It was worrisome to both Caroline and Pierre when Abi was so carefree and didn’t have a direction she wanted to go in life, it seemed like the last thing in life she wanted was to settle down and live a domestic life.  Apparently all Abi needed was to find the right person to complement her and everything fell into place.  Abi is still the somewhat rebellious girl she had been and there’s still many things Pierre and Caroline will never understand about her, but it at least brings them comfort to see her happy.  When she announces that she’s going to be a mother, Pierre and Caroline are relieved and overjoyed.  It was never anything they thought would happen to them when their only child was so outwardly against domesticity, but they’re so happy that she found a way to live that life and still be happy.

Emily - When Emily announces that she is going to be a mother, Haley literally SHRIEKS in excitement.  At this point in her life Haley might not be ready for a baby, but that doesn’t mean she’s not completely excited to have one in her life.  What follows is the biggest shopping trip of Haley’s life, she finds herself buying more in preparation for the new baby than even Emily does.  No niece or nephew of Haley’s will go unspoiled.  She can’t wait to be the cool aunt.

Haley - It’s strange for Emily when she hears that Haley will be a mother.  Most of Emily’s life was spent caring for Haley more as her mother than as her sister, it isn’t until recently that they’ve been able to find a happy place in their relationship where Emily can finally feel like a sister.  Now the dynamic is changing once again and Emily feels more like a grandmother than an auntie, the connection to Haley and her child is that strong.  Somehow calling herself an aunt just doesn’t seem powerful enough, it doesn’t seem worthy enough.  Emily knows she will be more than just an aunt to Haley’s child and has ever intention of treating her niece or nephew the way any grandmother would.

Maru - Robin and Demetrius beam with pride when Maru announced that she’s going to be a mother.  While Demetrius always focused more on Maru’s success in her studies and her career, Robin always worried in the back of her mind if this measure of success was the only one Maru would cling to.  Robin hoped that Maru would learn that her success could be measured just as much by her personal relationships and family life and that Maru was smart enough and driven enough to have it all.  Seeing Maru in a happy relationship and hearing the news that she’s starting a family is a relief to Robin to see that she never devalued having a family and it’s a relief to Demetrius to see that his motivated daughter is living a full life.  Sebastian isn’t outwardly excited about the prospect of being an uncle, then again there isn’t much he’s outwardly excited about.  Inwardly, though, he’s strangely looking forward to being an uncle.  Yes, it will be awkward and he’s certainly never been a fan of babies or even small children, but somehow the idea of playing Solarian Chronicles with his niece or nephew many years from now is a vision he can’t stop seeing and enough to get him actually excited.

Penny - Pam knows how long Penny has waited for this moment and it’s for that reason that Pam is actually quite worried for her.  Pam knows how much the idea of being a wife and mother has been glorified in Penny’s mind but Pam understands from experience just how difficult parenting can really be.  It’s hard to truly make someone understand just how hard parenting can be and that it’s not the beautiful, rewarding experience it can sometimes be painted as.  Parenting can be soul-crushing, it can be exhausting, it can be overwhelming, and Pam worries that Penny might not be ready for that aspect of it.  Of course Pam is thrilled at the news that she’ll be a grandmother, but a part of her is also worried about what kind of grandmother she’ll be.  She fully acknowledges that she wasn’t exactly the best mother in the world and that somehow Penny turned out okay in spite of that.  Being told that she’ll be a grandmother gives Pam some relief that maybe she’ll get a second chance… she just hopes she won’t screw it up.

[pigeonp0st]

Reader jumped off the cliff in Vormir instead of Natasha 😈

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #8

Words: 2,826

Warnings: Reader dies...angst

Notes:

Thanks you for requesting ;) and thanks to @gaytrashgoblin for proofreading. I had fun with this one...I’ve been having fun writing a lot lately.

————

There’s something sick and twisted about the world's constant need to fail the good people in it. Weirdly enough, that’s the first thought you have when Wanda turns into dust in your arms.

Then, the next;

“We failed.”

———

When Natasha finds you crouched by Visions body and staring lifelessly at, it she pounces on you, wrapping her arms around you more tightly than she ever has before and repeating, over and over again, “thank god.”

She’s sobbing into your shoulder with her relief, and your arms are hovering over her back, frozen. Frozen because you’re in shock, frozen because you don’t feel like you’re you. You feel like you're watching someone else’s life, because the Avengers don’t fail. They can’t fail. They...failed?

They failed, you failed, and too many are gone now. Too many are gone but Natasha isn’t, so you sag into her arms and you clutch onto her as tightly as she’s holding on to you, and revel in the fact that you lost everything, but you still have everything. You have Natasha.

It should be enough...but somehow it isn’t. Somewhere along the way of reluctantly becoming an Avenger you started to want more, more than just her, and you curse yourself now for loving these idiots who risk themselves so much. These idiots who mean too much.

———

Natasha is clingy after the...blip (that’s what people have come to call it). She’s clingy, and angry, and devastated, and you push aside everything you're feeling and do everything you can to take care of her for five years, because it’s much easier to analyze and argue about Natasha’s self deprecating habits than to sit down for a moment and realize that you’re not okay.

It’s easier to pull Natasha in at night when she wakes up from one of too many nightmares and tell her that you’re there, that you’ll always be there, when you’re not allowing yourself to think about how much you wish you disappeared with the rest of them.

It’s easier to yell at Natasha for her drinking than to talk about why some days you’re unable to get a drop of sleep, and other days all you do is sleep.

It’s easier to pretend Natasha’s nightmares are what keeps you up at night, and not the way your skin crawls at the possibility of closing your eyes for a second and not seeing her there.

It’s easier to stand alone in front of the doorway of Wanda’s room, replaying the moment she disappeared over and over again, then to do it with Natasha next to you worrying about whether or not she’s letting you down.

——

Time Travel. Getting the infinity stones before Thanos can get his hands on them.

Hope. Hope for the first time in a long time. You look over at Natasha and notice the spark that's in her eyes, the spark that’s been missing for five years, and feel your own type of hope too.

Whatever happens, you’re going to make sure everyone comes back, but more than that you’re going to make sure Natasha gets to see it.

——

You and Natasha are assigned to get the soul stone in Vomir.

The whole trip up the mountain you feel this unexplainable dread and you don’t know why. You don’t know why until;

“In order to take the stone you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul.”

Natasha is silent and tense as she takes this information in. You begin forming your plan.

——

“We both know what needs to happen here,” Natasha sighs, finally standing up and deciding to stop putting off the inevitable. You glance up at her, not moving an inch other than to tighten your grip on your gun.

You have a plan. A plan that to you seems full proof, but if Natasha goes psycho before you can manage to even say something then you’ll just have to shoot her.

“If you jump off that cliff I'm jumping after you. Titanic style, Nat. Don’t test me,” you pause, narrowing your eyes at the way her own hand tightens on her gun, “don’t even think about trying to physically stop me from jumping because there’s other ways people can die, ways you can’t stop me from when you aren’t here. The Avengers won’t get the stone if I’m given it.”

Natasha tenses again, her jaw locking and her eyes harder and more angry than they’ve ever been looking at you. You know why, it’s totally justifiable, but it still hurts. “Everyone doesn’t come back if we don’t get that stone.”

“Yep.”

“Y/N!” Natasha yells, her voice echoing all around you. “This isn’t a fucking joke, okay? We both know you wouldn’t do that.” Natasha says that but there’s this small barely noticeable uncertainty in her eyes, and it’s all you need.

Natasha won’t jump if there’s even a slightest chance that you’d jump after her. If there was even a slightest chance that you’d fuck up everything everyone has been fighting for, and you wouldn’t—you couldn’t—you think most of her knows that...but nothing in life is certain, and so much uncertainty in something so integral to the mission is too big of a risk.

“You’re...this is your plan, huh?” Natasha says quietly after a moment, wheels visibly turning in her head. “And if I said I'd do the same, if I said I'd jump after you if you didn’t let me do this?” She asks, curious.

You had enough time to think about that too. “You aren’t willing to take the risk that I’m telling the truth when I say I'll jump too. I’m willing to take the risk that you aren’t.”

There’s a long pause where Natasha says nothing, and during it you start to wonder if you read her all wrong. You start to wonder if this is a risk Natasha would take, just to make sure you stay alive, but then Natasha grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pushes you off the log you were sitting on and straight to the ground and you think you’re screwed.

Your instincts have you pointing your gun at her thigh and tightening your grip on the trigger, heart beating a mile a minute, but before you can pull it you feel a tear fall on your cheek.

Natasha’s crying, you realize, heart in your throat. “I’m sorry,” you want to say, “I’m sorry, Natasha. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for not being strong enough the first fight, I’m sorry for not being strong enough for the five years after, I’m sorry for not being strong enough now—strong enough to let you die. I’m sorry for wanting you to live through another death because I’m too weak to do it myself.”

But all you manage to get out is a broken, “Nat,” and you think she understands anyways. You think she understands because she shakes her head roughly and slumps down on you, burying her face in your neck and breathing you in.

“I’m sorry I can’t choose you over the world,” Natasha whispers, voice breaking. And then, angrily; “how dare you?” She asks, pulling away to glare at you so brokenly you start to feel guilt—so brokenly that you're selfishly glad you won’t have to be there for the aftermath of how you destroy Natasha. “How- how could you make me choose when you know…”

She doesn’t finish, just sobs and shakes her head, but you know. You know what she was going to say.

How dare you make her have to choose the world, when you know she wants to choose you.

It’s an admission of defeat that doesn’t leave you feeling victorious.

“You’ve been an idiot before, I can’t risk you being an idiot again. They need that stone,” Natasha gets out between sobs, wanting to explain because she needs you to understand. You already do though. You already do.

“I get it baby. I’ve been too unpredictable,” you laugh but it’s humorless and Natasha only shakes harder. “I’m sorry for all the missions I've sabotaged for you.”

How does one do this, you wonder. How does one just walk off a cliff to save the world, to save the women they love, with the women they love watching. How does one decide when they’ve said all the goodbyes they need to say and are ready, when you don’t think you could ever be done talking to Natasha, when you don’t think you’ll ever be ready to leave her if you’re leaving her alone.

You think you're done and that the world can’t hurt you anymore, but then it hurts you more, and how can you leave Natasha in a world like this one if you’re incapable of showing her it can get better too. If you’re incapable of showing her that there’s beauty in life too.

“Don’t hate people,” you ask quietly, “don’t hate people, or the world, because you had to sacrifice me for it. The world is beautiful, Nat. The world is beautiful,” and as you say it you think back on five years where you were incapable of seeing it and you’re left to regret it all.

That’s the irony of life. You realize things and you see them as they are when it’s too late.

“There’s poetry in life. There’s meaning in everything. Look for it when I'm gone, okay?” You beg, closing your eyes and feeling this. Feeling Natasha on top of you, shaking but there, feeling the breeze, feeling the ground beneath you, feeling the coldness, and the warmth, and everything in between, feeling the beat of your heart, and the breaths you take. Feeling the love. The love that’s there when everything else becomes not good enough.

“Look at the sun when you want to feel me, and listen to the rain when you want to hear me. Listen to the others, you aren’t alone even when I'm not there.”

“Stop,” Natasha pleads breathlessly, squeezing you so tightly you’d be worried about the bruise it’s going to leave later if there was a later for you. “Stop talking. Stop it—stop. You can’t—you can’t. It’s unfair. It’s unfair.”

You nod, opening your eyes again and gently nudging a shattered and broken Natasha off of you. “I was done anyways,” you tell her with a smile, glancing at the cliff you’ll be jumping from. Natasha’s hand holds onto your wrist tightly when she looks at the cliff too.

Her eyes are more expressive than they’ve ever been right now, and you can see how close she is to saying ‘fuck it’ and jumping instead. You can see it in how tense she is, like she’s physically fighting herself to stay, you can see it in the way her breath quickens, the way her eyes narrow like she’s trying to think of another way, and you decide that it’s time to go before she decides she’s willing to risk.

“Close your eyes and count to ten.”

Natasha’s eyes snap back towards you. “I love you,” she says quickly, “I love you so much,” and then she’s kissing you, and pulling back much too quickly , and you're shooting her in the thigh, shooting her because she had this look. This terrifying look on her face that was entirely desperate, crazed, and determined. She was heart over head, when you needed the opposite.

You run towards the edge of the cliff as soon as the gunshot rings out because Natasha is an immovable object and when she wants something a bullet in her leg isn’t going to stop her.

“You’re a real asshole Nat!” You growl out, dodging a grappling hook.

Natasha doesn’t have a lot of long distance weapons on her other than the grappling hook and her gun, and she’s not fast enough to get to you with an injured leg, that’s what you think until she shoots some weird electrocuting web thing at you.

It only takes you out for a couple of seconds, but she still manages to catch up to you in that time.

And now...now you’re scared. Now you’re terrified.

She’s on top of you again, eyes hard and unrelenting as she pushes you into the ground and tries to get up again. You prevent her by wrapping your legs around her waist.

“Natasha! What about Clint’s family?! What about Wanda? What about Peter, he was just a kid, what about—”

“What about you?!” Nat chokes out roughly, struggling against you. “What about you, Y/N, and what about— what about me?”

“It’s either you lose or I lose,” you say softly, freeing your hand from Natasha’s grasp and finding the knife Tony made for you in its safety sheath. It’s hot enough to cauterize a wound—he made it that way because he said you got injured too often—and you brought it just in case. “And Natasha, I’m too selfish and my ego is too big to be okay with losing.”

“There’s no winner here,” Natasha says a moment before you press your scathing knife against her injury.

The yell she releases then is nothing compared to the earth shattering cry she lets out when you manage to escape from under her and leap over the edge of the cliff with one final look over your shoulder and a smug; “I really hope there isn't a hell.”

The whole way down you think of Natasha’s face before you went over the edge, pleading and so unbearably sad. So unbearably unwilling, and not ready to let you go.

Your final thought before you hit the ground is; “The world was really beautiful because of you, Nat”, and then you only have an instant to wish you could have had time to tell her that.

———-

They bring the people they lost from the snap back, but they don’t bring everyone back.

It’s victory, they all know, but it doesn’t feel like victory. It doesn’t feel like victory because Vision is gone, Gamora is gone, Tony is gone, you’re gone, and none of them will ever be the same again.

It’s victory on the back of sacrifice, so it isn’t good enough. It isn’t good enough to be worth celebrating. They’re all just so tired. Natasha is so tired.

They won, but she doesn’t feel that, all she feels standing there is the phantom touch of your hand on her back, and your lips against her ear, asking her to not hate the world, asking for her to look for the poetry of things—but she thinks that if life is full of poetry, then her life is just one tragic poem.

She still tries though. She opens her eyes back up and tries to think of anything other than the way her heart feels so much heavier than it did with half the world gone.

When she looks up at the sky, the clouds and smoke part just a bit and she gets washed in the glow of the sun.

Look at the sun when you want to feel me.

Natasha’s breath catches in her throat, full of too much emotion, and her legs give out from under her, because suddenly the world is beautiful. Suddenly you’re there, and the world is full of poetry too, because there has always been poetry in the way that you have always been there for her when she needed you the most.

“Thank you,” Nat whispers, clutching a hand over her heart and trying to find the words to communicate with you that she needs you forever. That she needs you back. Trying to find the words to say that the sun and rain aren’t enough, but knowing that you realistically couldn’t hear her anyways.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect us from the ugly of the world. I’m sorry I let us live in it for too long,” Natasha thinks, “I’m sorry it was all I could see when you were right there showing me the beautiful.”

———

Wanda is the one to find Natasha after people start wondering where she is. She finds her with her face pressed into the dirt, and oddly enough—the lowering sun peaking through the clouds only touching her.

When she wakes her up Natasha’s eyes are frantic and scared until she looks up in the sky and sees the sun still there. Still on her somehow.

“Are you okay?” Wanda forces herself to ask, even though she knows the answer.

Surprisingly, Natasha nods and laughs, exhausted and delirious. “As long as the sun is still up.”

It’s the closest thing she’s got to you, Natasha doesn’t say.

It’s the only warmth she thinks she’s going to feel for a long while.

It’s the only thing she can find beautiful in the world anymore, even as she tries to look harder for other things like you asked.

It’s the only thing she feels, and the only thing she wants to feel anymore. It’s the only thing she has.

[notonelineff]

It’s not until hours later that she looks at him, really looks at him. It was all too easy to get caught up in the joy of their reunion, in the touch of his skin, the feel of his lips, in the sensation of finally being home as he held her in his arms.

But now that they’re here, his head on her lap as he curls up against her on the couch, humming contentedly as she cards her fingers through his hair, that she truly sees it. Sees the scars on his soul, wounds long since healed, but not without leaving a mark. An ache, a reminder of all that he lost. With every touch of her hand, she can almost feel the pain ebb away, but she knows in her heart that even she can never make it vanish completely.

No one can. That time, their time, is lost forever. There is only the future now, in this place she has yet to fully know.

“So, when do I get the grand tour?” she says lightly, not wanting to break this bubble they’ve created, but unable to hold off her curiosity any longer.

It’s been so long since she was last here, and even then, it’s a memory she tried her best to suppress. The thought of him here, alone… it was too much to bear. Her dreams of Hell were bad enough; letting it occupy her waking mind as well was out of the question. Not when she had two daughters to raise, two daughters to be strong for.

She couldn’t allow herself to break.

But hundreds of thousands, if not millions of years have passed since then. There must have been changes, changes that only a King of Hell could make. She wants to see it all, to know it all, to hear of the life Lucifer has created for himself without her. A life that she would now be part of, for eternity.

Lucifer chuckles against her stomach, a sound she’s sorely missed. “This is pretty much it, darling. Unless you’d like a spin up to the throne? I take it you haven’t developed a fear of heights over the years. It’s not for the faint of heart, that one. Just ask poor Rodrick in cell 1,831,020,143.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “What do you mean, this is it? Surely you have a home to go to, a palace, something?”

He slowly lifts his head, shifting onto his side until he’s propped up on one elbow to look at her. His forehead creases, the happiness in his eyes dimming a little as he searches her face for something unknown. “Why would I need any of that?” he asks slowly, as though this is a fact of life she should already understand. “It’s not as if I require sleep down here, and even if I do feel the urge, Linda had the foresight to purchase a rather comfortable sofa bed during our prior endeavours.”

He waggles his eyebrows at her, as if the reminder that he once traded sex for therapy is supposed to amuse her somehow. For a moment, he’s the Lucifer of old, a joke or a quip always at the tip of his tongue. But she knows him well enough to remember that more than often, he’s hiding something underneath. And when she looks at him again, this newfound knowledge under her belt, she can see it plain as day.

It’s in his smile, the one that doesn’t always reach his eyes unless he’s meeting her own, slipping just the tiniest bit whenever his attention is drawn away. It’s in the curl of his hair, that slight imperfection that he would never have allowed before, a minor dishelvement that speaks of a lack of time and care. And more than that, it’s in his face, in the exhaustion she can see lurking just below the surface.

He’s trying, pushing through, for her. For them. She can’t help the dread that rolls in her stomach as she wonders how he’s been living this way.

But she soon gets her answer.

“The work is here, love. I have to stay. There’s so many, and they never stop arriving. They needed me, and until now… I needed them. The work… it stopped me from thinking, from remembering. I know you understand that.”

She does. And she hates it.

[calltomuster]

Star Wars Fic Recs Part the Fourth

[first fic rec list] [second fic rec list] [third fic rec list]

Been a few weeks since I've done one of these and I've read/reread some great fics recently so let me share them with you now!

And I Fear Nothing by @maiseey (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 11/? chapters, 43.4k words) Picture this: I am sitting in the parking lot of my local grocery store, having just bought a load of perishables. I get the email that And I Fear Nothing has just been updated. What do I do: run home to preserve the food I just paid for, or sit in my car and read the new chapter right away? The answer is obvious, of course! That is exactly the situation I found myself in last week when chapter 11 dropped and I did in fact choose to read it in spite of my groceries, that's how much I love this fic. In this fic, Obi-Wan and Cody are raising Luke and Leia together on Tatooine, and they've got so much trauma, and new + old wounds, and love for each other and the children they're raising that it both warms your heart and tears it apart. But that's not all, this fic expands beyond just the small home in the middle of the Jundland Wastes and explores Ahsoka and Rex and their journey to de-chip as many clones as possible. I love this fic because it doesn't shy away from hard conversations, but it does it in a way that makes you want to cry and give everyone involved a hug. Plus, there are some fantastic minor clone characters that you will 100% want to die for by the time you finish reading. Cannot recommend this fic enough.

Obligate by @communistkenobi (gen, one-shot, 23.9k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin & Ahsoka) Just when you thought the Deception arc didn't have enough pain, this AU sees Anakin fake his death instead of Obi-Wan! My heart is physically ripped out of my chest just thinking about this fic, so imagine what it'd do to you actually reading it. Anything @communistkenobi writes is so well-done and I've gone through his works list on AO3 multiple times, but somehow I missed this when it was first posted and it was like a wonderfully delightful surprise when I ran into it the other day. So, so good. Highly recommend!

Moirai by damonkey (gen, WIP, 4/? chapters, 9.2k words, Obi-Wan & Qui-Gon) All I can really say about this fic without giving anything away is that it's a Phantom Menace AU and it's so intriguing. The author is very deliberate in having a vague summary and only tagging as the story progresses, so I truly have no idea what's ahead of me but it's so -- as I said -- intriguing that I'm happy to strap into the ride. Ahhhh I'm skimming through the fic and there are so many things I want to mention but I don't want to give anything away!

Almost Home by @frunbuns (gen, one-shot, 5.2k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) You know, every time I recc a Modern AU I'm like "I don't usually like Modern AUs but..." and then proceed to gush over the fic. I went and checked and I've recced a Modern AU on almost every fic rec list I've made! Maybe I do like Modern AUs?? Or maybe the fics are just that good -- and this fic is definitely that good. In this fic, the first of a planned series of fics set in a modern Star Wars universe, Obi-Wan is reeling from the loss of his adoptive father Qui-Gon and has to care for a young Anakin. Ooooooof. Definitely hits you right in the feels, this one. Love the non-chronological storytelling too!

Naked and Not Paid by biscuitlevitation (Obi-Wan/212th Attack Battalion, WIP, 6/? chapters, 14.9k words) This fic is essentially ~15k words of the clones thirsting over Obi-Wan and it is the funniest thing I have read all year. I'm not kidding, I just read the last chapter which features space-church-lady!Anakin and I laughed so hard I cried. I'm cracking up just thinking about it. I promise you will have a good time reading this fic. And if the tag "Obi-Wan Kenobi/212th Attack Battalion" puts you off, let me just say there's no sex in this at all, it's just thirst. And it's hilarious.

Full Disclosure by @trixree (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 2/3 chapters, 7.4k words) ROTS AU in which the Force bonds Obi-Wan has formed with a few members of the 212th save them from the chip and Order 66, but it doesn't stop the devastation from happening on a mass scale and they all have to try and deal with Mustafar and Luke and Leia. This fic manages to be both extremely soft and extremely gut-wrenching at the same time, and I wish I could leave more kudos. Full disclosure (get it, little pun there for ya), I will be dying until the final chapter comes out. Time to go listen to Olivia Rodrigo and reread this fic and just live in my feels.

Thirteen Days by @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12 (gen, one-shot, 4.1k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Post-Zygerria arc, Anakin dresses an unconscious Obi-Wan's injuries and struggles. Ahhhh this fic is one of my favorite Zygerria arc fics, and given that that's my favorite arc, that's saying a lot! Obi-Wan doesn't say a word in this fic, but his presence is very much there, if you know what I mean. And the descriptions of injuries here are pretty graphic at times, but it's so good that you'll want to keep reading even if you have to do it through the fingers covering your eyes.

brother, let me be your shelter by @kenobilovebot (gen, one-shot, 1.6k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) This fic packs so much tenderness in a short amount of words. It covers an AU in which Obi-Wan's issues from Zigoola never really resolve, and Anakin finds out when -- well, you'll just have to read for yourself. I love Zigoola because it is such an excellent whumpfest for poor Obi-Wan and this fic is great for that, but also highlights Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship.

A Padawan At War (Again) series by @itstimeforstarwars (gen, 3 parts, 100k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) In this series, Obi-Wan and Anakin are transported from The Phantom Menace into the Clone Wars and have to deal with all that comes with it: fighting wars, discovering a Padawan you never knew you had, dueling your grandmaster who apparently is a Sith Lord now(?!) and all the rest. This series is a great ride, and I look forward to every update. Note: the first fic in this series is a one-shot that was expanded upon, and it drops you in media res. The second fic is a prequel that shows how they got to that point, and the third fic is the sequel that shows what comes after.

The Desert Storm series by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning (complete, 24 parts, 1.144 million words) There has never been a better time to start reading this series. If you read Star Wars fics on AO3, then you've definitely seen the Desert Storm series before, but maybe you were daunted by the high word count, or felt like it would be too much effort to go all the way to the beginning of a series but couldn't just jump in halfway. Let me tell you, it's 100% worth it, and now is the perfect time to read this series if you haven't already. This series is complete, but it turns out it's all just Act 1 of the larger story, which will continue in the Rise and Fall series. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning is taking a break right now before starting the next series, so you have ample time to get caught up, and YOU REALLY SHOULD. Let me tell you, this series had me on the edge of my seat more than any other piece of media I can remember. With the most recent chapters, where everything that has been building for a million words came to a head, I would get so worked up after each chapter that beforehand I would have to queue up calming things to watch afterwards, and it still wouldn't be enough and I'd be too full of feelings to get anything done the rest of the day. Seriously, this series is amazing. And if you HAVE read it before but haven't reread, now is the perfect time for that as well. I've reread this series multiple times and it's so rewarding because the author sprinkled in so many hints as to what will come that you only understand the second (or third) time around. I know I've written a lot for this rec but this is a long series and it deserves it. Go read! Now!

If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone’s Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!