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astracora · 3 days ago

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Poly!LADs headcanons #2

Social Edition

Featuring main MC.

Masterlist

Social Media

Zayne uses his online profiles pretty much exclusively for work. He follows distinguished professionals, especially in cardiology to keep up with the industry and build connections. He also shares information and studies, because he's aware patients follow him or family of patients, about health and general ways to assist with recovery. Has reported a lot of articles though, for misinformation.

He only really has one personal account, which is not openly shared, he uses this one to keep up with the polycules updates (even though he finds himself tutting as Xavier posts about the 6th pot noodle he's eaten that day), and comments on as many as he can (absolutely has alerts set up for MC specifically). Has more than one caught Rafayel and Sylus (whose account is of course under Skye to alleviate stress), plotting some prank, and printed out a screenshot to question them.

It goes as well as you'd expect.

Rafayel does not separate his work from his personal. This man will post about anything and everything, you want art exhibit exclusive updates? Follow Thomas. With Raffy you'll get every little hyperfixation, all his personal updates, random things he finds pretty, the occasional fawning over his loved ones in all caps, and the occasional art related post (Thomas normally has to remind him.) He binged a 20 episode show once, and wouldn't stop talking about it for months. He also will rant about the environment and things people can do to do their part. If he loses followers he doesn't care. Once Xavier accidentally unfollowed him (because trying to type with one hand while half asleep is a disaster waiting to happen) and he sulked for a week.

Likes everything the polycule posts, except for Sylus. Sometimes he leaves his usual 'dumb crow' comment, but Sylus casually mentioned that it showed he still cared enough to read, and Raffy ignored his posts for two months after that in protest. (When it gets brought up, he still blushes.)

Xavier is only as active as he has to be. He doesn't really follow a lot of people, the polycule, Jeremiah, Nero, Tara, Simone, Andrew and Jenna. MC once asked why he didn't really follow anyone else, and he just shrugged, too much work, and went back to what he was doing. Will tag himself and the polycule in locations when they go out, he takes photos fairly often, but will normally forget to post them. Raffy made a comment about it being a good method to track the progression of time and remembering what you get up to, and he started posting more often after that. His updates are mundane things, day-to-day, nice things he's seen, and nothing too groundbreaking.

Sometimes he does go back through his account to look at stuff though, it normally reminds him he wants to print certain photos out though. Preferring to have physical copies of memories. (Nero absolutely runs a Lumiere account that Xavier does NOT follow, but Sylus and MC do because they think it's hilarious.)

Sylus' account is under Skye or whatever nickname he's been called that amuses him that week. (He once changed it to 'fish eating crow' and the argument between him and Rafayel was so loud, Zayne made a deal with Sylus to change it back.) He follows the entire polycule, as well as Tara, Luke and Kieran. He says he follows Luke and Kieran because they sometimes post what chaos they plan to get up to next, but he likes all the things they post, and occasionally comments. (Sometimes if it's particularly troublesome, he comments 'Come see me.', and they know they're in for a lecture.) His updates can be anything, they're even more eclectic than Rafayel on account of how much amuses him on a daily basis. He also posts an obscene amount of photos he's taken of the polycule.

Doesn't have a business account because he doesn't need it, his name is enough. Any information he gets about any shady n109 zone business is through other methods. He absolutely is the kind of person to save posts to show people because they made him think of them. So so many links, found when he has a particularly boring meeting. Was following Jenna, MC took his phone and made him unfollow Jenna.

MC has one account that follows everyone they personally know, plushie release updates, anything relevant to their interests (gaming magazines/film updates), and the occasional account that just posts pictures of animals. They go through entire periods of not posting or visiting their social media at all, and then intense fixation periods where they sit for an hour or two just liking and commenting. They share a lot of things to show the polycule, can be anything from a picture of a crow with a little hat (it's you Sy!), or a really beautiful photograph (for Raffy's inspiration). Number one fan for Simone and Tara specifically. They don't have alerts set up but they'll periodically just open profiles from the polycule to browse their pages.

Their pfp changes CONSTANTLY. It's not them, Sylus keeps changing it, with any new photo he sees. Sometimes its a cat with the most ridiculous face, other times its a snapshot Xavier's taken where they've been taken by surprise. Sometimes they notice straight away, other times they don't notice at all.

Talkative levels

Rafayel > Sylus > MC > Zayne > Xavier > Rafayel (if he hates you)

Rafayel, if he likes you, will talk for England. He can talk about anything, and fill any empty space. As long as you're listening or want him to keep going, he'll do so. While he's happy to sit in silence, he enjoys conversation, about any range of topics. He's a smart, knowledgeable man with a breadth of knowledge. History, Art, Politics and Environment are some top things he'll be able to engage in. Also just likes to talk shit.

If he doesn't like you, he will barely engage, unless he feels the need to add a threat (normally only important when he's protecting the people he loves).

Sylus can talk a lot, and he enjoys being engaged with on topics. He's well read, old enough to have a lot of worldly experience (though can sometimes feel lacking on emotional topics), and is very insightful as a person. Aboveall else, however… he loves listening. Can easily sit for hours just listening to a conversation, whether he's multi-tasking, or just sat. Doesn't matter if he understands the topic, doesn't matter if he has anything to add, but he will truly listen. It makes him happy to have things shared with him.

Xavier is about half and half on his conversation, he's naturally fairly lethargic and is happy for other people to fill quiet, or just sit in silence, or he can chat. Normally only for people he is close to, however. Is a very good listener, but also prone to asking the oddest questions. Is the type of person to ask the worm question, because he likes seeing what he gets in return. Is the quietest of the polycule though, easily just letting convos pass him by, or only chipping in with the occasional comment. The more upset he gets, the quieter he gets. Is, however, capable of dropping the most baffling comments or stirring the pot with gentle prods.

Zayne is reasonably talkative, and very verbose. He's obviously a smart man, but prefers the relaxation of his personal life to have some more of a childish or calm approach to his life. So unless it's needed, he doesn't want to talk about anything too complex in his day-to-day. Very jovial, even if his expression doesn't always match, and is happy to go toe to toe with topics or personality. Mirrors to some degree. Especially with MC. Has learned over time, how to be a little less formal with others, to help them relax.

MC goes through stages, they can be incredibly quiet for long periods of time, especially if they're post a rough mission, or having a rough day and overstimulated. Normally though once they get started on a topic of interest, comfortable with someone, or in a good mood, they can talk and talk and talk. They are more talkative through texts than they are in person, but it gets easier for them if they know the person. (The polycule get the bulk of it, along with Tara and Simone.)

Arguments?

Rafayel's version of arguments, as long as he is with people he cares about, is normally a process of going through the loud, irritated, sometimes yelling, until he reaches the ice cold, will say something to hurt you, in order to lash back when he feels uncomfortable or strong emotions.

He'll need one of two things to calm down, time to think and take space, or pulling back early enough that he realises he's hurting people. (MC is most successful with this, unless they're part of the argument.)

He clashes most with Zayne and Sylus. Sylus because the two are akin to cats and dogs, their arguments are very rarely serious, but they can get carried away, especially if Rafayel feels cornered. He clashes with Zayne because he doesn't take well to being told what to do in any form, even if it only comes from a place of concern. His arguments with Zayne have lessened a lot overtime, but his arguments with Sylus are still going strong.

It's possible he just enjoys sniping with the crow though.

Xavier doesn't really care enough to get into arguments, if he's bothered by something, it's jealousy above anything else. He'll get a stormcloud above his head, and it's the polycules job to help him clear it (or give him space to process it safely). His normal feelings of irritation come in the form of a pout, or a few grumbles, but if he sleeps it off, he's fine. So he tries not to really show his upset if he can, because it never lasts that long. King of bouncing back.

That said, he argues most with Zayne and MC. The arguments are rarely serious, Zayne's are normally about his bad eating habits, and come from a place of concern, but the way he shares them can often make Xavier feel like he's being belittled. His arguments with MC are about how he hides things, secrets, and doesn't share when he goes off fighting dangerous wanderers as Lumiere (or just as Xavier). These arguments are (seemingly) calm from Xavier's side, and fierce anger from MC. This can often result in them having to bench the conversation where they're talking past each other, and someone else will have to mediate.

Zayne tries to be cool as much as he can, he doesn't like raising his voice, he would rather not show anger, and he tries to approach people with a level tone. This doesn't always work, and sometimes he feels like an icy wasteland when he talks. Chilling and sarcastic. It can feel biting, and even if he doesn't want to exacerbate an argument, it can often have the opposite impact. (He sometimes also can't resist adding a dig, when he thinks someone is being extra foolish.)

He argues a lot with Rafayel and Xavier, and his arguments with Sylus fizzle out the most, because he has no interest in being a source of amusement for the man. His arguments always come from a place of concern. He wants people to take care of themselves, he worries about them, dislikes tending to wounds that are unnecessary.

When he argues, he needs either a mediator (MC if they're not involved in the argument, Sylus if he has to), or for the person he's arguing with to extend an olive branch. Is surprisingly stubborn about it (though it could also be because Raffy and Xavi both are not prone to just backing down on something.)

Sylus' form of argument can differ. The man can be either cool, and amused, enjoying his arguing partners emotional output in the same way someone would poke a wild animal to see what happens. Or he can be cold, deadly and dangerous. The latter very rarely comes out, it is only through extreme circumstances, or something he truly would not compromise on, that it happens. These situations make him scary, and can make him cruel. It does not come out with the polycule, and it is rare for even an enemy to get such a reaction. He deals with everything very calmly. (visibly at least). He does not raise his voice, but he will match someone barb for barb.

Argues mostly with MC and Rafayel. Though the second he gets a real display of pain or shock, especially out of MC, he'll realise it's serious and back up quickly. Until then, he enjoys verbally sparring. He only outwardly argues with someone without them starting it, when he is truly bothered by recklessness. If someone jumps in front of him to get hurt, if they do not listen when he tells them something. If he's not trusted in situations where he likely either knows best, or feels he does.

Will calm down quickly because it's never that serious, or will go away for a joyride to give himself some freedom to feel better, and then return to find another way forwards.

MC is fairly conflict averse, they have enough stress in their day to day that added strain often doesn't react well with their body. (Heart condition, general hunter lifestyle.). Arguments are often far calmer than when they are actually angry. Their anger manifests as a vicious serpent, and depending on the situation, it becomes sharp like a dagger, to stick under a scale and force it off. For arguments, they match energy normally. If the person they're arguing with is cold, they're cold back, (though it might not always last, as when they feel forced into a corner, they can get emotional against their will and overstimulated.), if the person yells, they'll yell back too.

They argue most with Xavier and Sylus. It is almost always about safety, about their injuries, about recklessness. They also argue over smaller things, like money being spent unnecessarily, Mephisto following them unnecessarily, if they're standing up for someone else but get carried away. To calm down, they have to leave the situation, and come back to communicate better. They will often do this with something written down to help them stay level headed and resolve a problem. They always want and give affection after.

#zayne #zayne x reader #rafayel #rafayel x reader #xavier #xavier x reader #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace #lnds #lads #wonder writes #lads x reader #Zayne lads #rafayel lads #Xavier lads #Sylus lads #lads x mc #poly!lads

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dawsonskyelar · 2 days ago

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Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Sebastian’s happy to be anywhere or do anything as long as he’s with Nick and he can listen to him ranting about whatever. Nick, however, loves to take Sebastian out to eat.

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Both of them love that the other accepts them. Sebastian loves Nick’s joy and Nick loves Sebastian’s intelligence.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Sebastian barely knows how to take care of his own needs so he panics when Nick has a bad day. Nick tries to give Sebastian gifts, mostly food, and tells jokes and stories.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Both of them dream about sharing the same space with each other until the end of time.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

In the beginning of their relationship Sebastian has to order Nick to clean up after himself. However, after a certain incident, they agree to divide the chores between them and Sebastian leaves Nick’s room alone.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Their arguments are loud and explosive. Both use slurs and try to use the other’s worst trait against them. Nick forgets what they’re even fighting about the next day, but Sebastian, with his excellent memory, will hold a grudge for months.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Nick is so so so happy that Sebastian has chosen him as his partner after yearning for him for years. Sebastian, on the other hand, constantly thinks that Nick will leave him any second.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Both Nick and Sebastian decided to not reveal their pasts to each other when they first moved in together. Over the course of the trilogy they learn to not hide anything since that will only lead to heartache.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Sebastian learns to be less judgemental and Nick learns to be more organised.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Sebastian’s entire reason for biphobia is because he gets jealous of Nick picking anyone and everyone to be his sexual partner instead of him. Nick wouldn’t be happy about giving Sebastian up but he’d do it if it meant Sebastian would be happy.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Because Nick had a lot of sexual partners, he has a lot of experience. Sebastian cums at their first proper kiss because Nick’s technique made him feel so good.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

In an ideal environment? They’d never admit their feelings because they both believe the other’s too good for them.

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Sometimes Sebastian dreams of Nick being mad enough to agree to be his spouse. Nick would ask the question randomly like he’s talking about the weather. Everything becomes more intense – the fights, the sex, the gifts. Nick would send Sebastian a shitton of romance memes in addition to the normal ones that causes the latter’s phone to overheat.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Nick sometimes calls Sebastian ‘Sebster’ and Sebastian will call Nick by his full name if he’s mad.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

They have such googly eyes for each other that Nick’s coworkers had a bet on whether he and Sebastian would end up together eventually.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Nick brags about how lucky he is to have the hottest, smartest, funniest person in all the dimensions as his boyfriend/husband. Sebastian doesn’t like people prying into his private life. He gets flattered but also annoyed when Nick kisses him in public.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Sebastian’s photographic memory saves them a lot of time because he writes stuff down that he needs to remember in his bullet journal.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Nick gives Sebastian lots of material gifts – at first it was the typical ones like flowers, but they get interspersed with useful ones. Sebastian just gives Nick food he knows Nick likes – ice cream, candy, cake, etc – in small amounts.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Sebastian doesn’t pursue hobbies in the beginning because he believes he doesn’t have time nor money for them. This is why he doesn’t like Nick drawing as a hobby at first. As time goes on, however, he tells Nick he can buy a drawing tablet if he wants and even volunteers to come with him to get it. Nick, in a reversal of roles in the third book, is aghast that Sebastian wants to write about his experiences in moving dimensions but of course supports Sebastian any way he can.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Sebastian’s first love affair is routine so he doesn’t like change. Nick has to hold off on trying new things to not put Sebastian on edge.

Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

They have contrasting personalities so sometimes it’s hard for them to empathise with each other but they always get resolved in the end.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

They define themselves by their relationship. They’re unhealthily co-dependent for affection and think nothing means anything if they didn’t have the other’s approval.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Nick remembers to run an errand that Sebastian forgot and receives Sebastian being more active in bed than

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Nick is a very touchy-feely person. He’ll touch Sebastian anywhere and everywhere; Sebastian hates it at first because physical touch gives him the heebie-jeebies but slowly he learns to tolerate it.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

They have no need to be apart for very long because they live together. Sebastian will dwell on Nick so much that he fucks up whatever he’s doing. Meanwhile Nick will look for something to buy to make Sebastian smile.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

They’re both willing to let people die in the destruction of the dimensions as long as the other didn’t find out about his feelings. And once they’re together, Nick proclaims he’ll do anything as long as Sebastian stays in his life.

Fluff Alphabet!

Inspired by the NSFW Alphabet by @fairy-tail-babes.

Feel free to use for your own writing Blogs!

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

So: Send me a character and one/several letter(s) and let’s get started!

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lovebunnie · 2 days ago

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Viktor did not know the first time he wanted to kiss Jayce.

It was hard to keep track of all the moments because of just how many there were. Jayce was a very easy person to want to kiss, with his handsome looks and incredible mind, paired with a strong work ethic and kind heart. Viktor suspected almost everyone Jayce met in his life had wanted to kiss him atleast once.

Jayce did not seem too interested in this fact, based on the amount of time he spent in the lab right next to Viktor. Their partnership did not allow for many relationships outside of a scientific purpose; it just so happened that Viktor really liked Jayce not only as a partner but also in general, just as a person.

So really, there were far too many times to count where he felt compelled to grasp his face in his hands and press their lips together. Some nights, Viktor would imagine Jayce running into the lab with great news of a secured deal or more grant money and just plant one right on his lips without thinking, before dashing to his desk while still chirping and leaving Viktor gasping.

He thought of a scenario where he found himself in the forge one night, just the two of them in the entire building, and like something out of a trashy novel, a shirtless and sweaty Jayce would pull him in by his hips and kiss him slowly and sensually before the rest of the daydream turned into something... else.

Once Viktor and Jayce were in the midst of a heated argument about how to conduct an experiment with or without proper precautions in place, and Jayce stood up and walked towards Viktor. He thought in that moment that Jayce was going to find a less conventional way of shutting him up and before he could articulate if that would've worked or pissed him off even further, Jayce had walked out the door. The next day he came back with an apology and they moved on stronger than before.

Viktor was almost embarrassed by how badly he wanted to kiss Jayce. He thought of how much he wanted to know just how Jayce would kiss, he wanted to see that side of Jayce and keep it all to himself. Viktor had Jayce in the lab but he wanted more.

When it happened, VIktor and Jayce were on long night number six. Days had passed since either of them had left the lab longer than it took to take a shower and brush their teeth. They could feel the edges of discovery brushing their fingertips, so close to a revelation.

"Only Piltovians would get bored of the ability for humans to fly," Viktor murmured as he adjusted a screw on the bottom of their anti-gravity contraption. "Why they needed something portable is beyond me."

"Now is kind of a bad time to start complaining, V," Jayce replied as he worked on finalizing the welding components. "This is going to work this time, it has to work-"

"It will work," Viktor emphasized. "And if it doesn't, we try again."

"If it doesn't I'm cracking open that bottle of wine I know you keep-"

Suddenly, the room was flooded with vibrant blue that had the both of them scrambling backwards. While before, the hexcrystals made the entire room weightless, now everything remained as it was with only Viktor's wrench floating in the middle, suspended in mid air. It was flying. It worked.

Jayce picked himself off the ground where he has fallen back and pushed his goggle up to his forehead. "Holy shit, V, it worked!"

Viktor removed his goggles as well, mesmerized by the suspension of an object isolated within their own chamber. The blue of the hexcrystal had died down and left the room in a cool glow, and Viktor felt a smile tug at his lips. "This is.. incredible."

"Oh my god, it actually finally worked. I need to write down everything we did, what kind of screws did you use? What is the temperature of the room, what runes did we use?"

As Jayce rambled on, Viktor stood up and took in his frantic energy. His hands were moving quickly and his eyes were searching for his notebook while he paced the room like he couldn't sit down. His hair was disheveled from the times he ran his hand through it in frustration and his eye bags were getting more and more pronounced. His face was leaner and exhaustion draped over him like a blanket. Objectively, Jayce looked kind of like shit.

Viktor felt a spark in his chest, he couldn't look away.

When Jayce made his way back in front of Viktor, he smiled warmly. "This is such a huge relief, I was really starting to get concerned that we were going to have to completely start over, but now we can start with trials and-"

As Jayce spoke, the spark grew and grew until Viktor could ignore it no longer. He pulled Jayce down mid sentence and pressed his lips to his, locking them together.

Viktor's hands cradled the sides of Jayce's face, keeping him in place while Viktor pressed his lips harder and tilted his head ever so slightly. It felt right, for the first time in a long time. Viktor was used to not feeling included but in this moment it felt like it was meant to happen. Their kiss was always going to happen in the wake of discovery, how could it not?

A few seconds passed before Viktor gently pushed Jayce back, their breaths shared in the close space. Jayce was silent, and Viktor began to quietly worry that maybe Jayce did not feel like this moment was perfect to him. The thought devastated him; there would be nothing crueler than losing Jayce as a friend.

Viktor took a step back as he looked away. "I'll get started on those trials, we can start with the screws to see if-"

In that moment, Jayce reached out and pulled Viktor back towards him, connecting their lips again in a kiss. One hand made its way to the nape of Viktor's neck while the other held his jaw gently. This second kiss was dynamic and Viktor found himself getting lost in the motions. In all the day dreams he had, he never thought to imagine that Jayce would want to kiss him back this badly, this fervent need to claim his mouth. Their partnership truly knew no bounds.

Before things could get more heated, they broke apart once more and Jayce pressed his forehead to Viktor's with a gentle laugh. "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

"What a coincidence," Viktor purred as he tugged Jayce in again. "So have I."

#space snips #space.txt #arcane #jayvik #jayvikweek #jayce talis #viktor arcane #for day 2: firsts #had to do their first kiss but also im so aromantic and do not like kissing so i just kinda guessed

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mimikyusrealform · 2 days ago

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physics problem

Spencer Reid x Reader.

Word Count: 1,127.

Notes: S2 Spencer Reid, my beloved. I'm not a Physics student, though technically I use a lot of it in my career.

The world liked to demonize an ambitious, career-oriented woman. You were extremely proud of your mom, who achieved her undergrad in Physics when you were eight, despite having to take a five-year break because you were born. But then, at seven-years-old, you hadn't particularly enjoyed when she made you watch her recorded lectures and take notes for her. The fact you were capable of writing down fairly comprehensible notes at that age was remarkable, but it left you with a distaste for physics that you didn't grow out of until you were twenty-six.

If that growth could be attributed to anything, or anyone, you would be hard-pressed to admit that it was, lamentably, because of Dr. Spencer Reid. The fact you had an embarrassingly juvenile crush on your unit's resident genius had nothing to do with it. Rather, you would begrudgingly say that his enthusiasm was contagious. Terminal.

And while you were almost always down to hear him rambling and you were never inclined to interrupt him, it was hardly efficient to be listening to him while you worked in last case's property inventory. Sue you, but you never quite learned how to multitask.

He didn't seem to get the memo, though, still chatting with you from his desk, which was conveniently next to yours. “... so from 0.01 to 200 seconds after the Big Bang, the first hydrogen nuclei begin to form. And then large, large clouds of hydrogen and helium gas start to form as well, and they contract under the force of gravity. As the clouds become smaller and smaller, the energy generated from the contraction creates enough kinetic energy to overcome—”

“—Coulomb repulsion,” you said absentmindedly as you continued working—laptop, Apple iBook G4, transferred to Evidence Locker 23B—before you noticed he stopped talking.

You looked up, a minute frown already pulling at your eyebrows. “What?” you asked him.

He blinked slowly, like a cat, observing you as if you were a newly discovered specimen. A new earthworm specimen, no less. Unflattering.

“Uh, nothing,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “It's just... yeah, that's what I was about to say. Coulomb repulsion, I mean. The repulsive force between like-charges. But, uh, I knew that. I didn't know—I didn't know that you knew.”

Oh. That's right. You never showed any indication that you knew of what he was talking about when he rambled on physics, and physics specifically. You did like to share and exchange knowledge on Anthropology—your undergrad—with him, and sometimes about other areas of study you happened to be a bit cognizant on, but never about physics, the bane of your young existence. Furthermore, you actively acted as if you did not know anything related to physics. Half because you liked it when he showered you with such earnest little lectures, and half because you didn't quite want him to know you were decently knowledgeable in that field.

“Uhhh,” you said dumbly, elongating the syllable. “Lucky guess.”

It was his time to frown. “That was not a lucky guess,” he said. “You clearly know about this topic. But—you never showed it before. Why?”

He was acting as if this was a great offense, you realized. As if he was defending you from being underestimated. But he was defending you from yourself. You didn't acknowledge the irregular palpitations of your heart; it was too shameful. You were twenty-six, dammit.

“Look, Doctor,” too affectionately, you were addressing him too affectionately, “it's not a big issue. I just... I mean, it never came up, okay? I just happen to know a bit about Coulomb and whatnot. No big deal.”

“No big deal,” he echoed. “Right, no big deal. Sorry for overreacting.”

You relaxed back into your seat, offered him a smile, and returned to work on your report. Some time after that, he called your name. You made a vague humming sound.

“Hey,” he said from his desk. “I always forget.” That should have been the first red flag, but you were too distracted to notice. “After you overcome Coulomb repulsion, what's the only way for an atom to lose energy?”

You didn't have to think for that, it came naturally. “To fuse with another atom. During nuclear fusion, the energy released counteracts the inward pull of gravity.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding far too amused. “I see. Thanks.”

“You're—” Wait. “Wait.”

“The verb to wait comes from Norman French, ultimately deriving from Proto-Germanic: wahtwijaną,” he supplied unhelpfully, all happy-go-lucky from his desk as he ‘read’ through a file.

“You—motherfucker,” you whispered. “You trickster. You cheater.”

“Says the woman who plays the dirtiest game of Blackjack known to man,” he was quick to quip back. “I can confidently say that you're the filthiest cheat I've ever met.”

“Dr. Counting Cards can not be talking,” you countered defensively.

“Then I guess we're even.” He was smiling in that stupidly boyishly charming way.

“No, we're not. No, we're not.” Yes, they were. “Morgan still plays cards with me. The same can not be said about you.”

Too fondly, he said, “That's because he hasn't realized you cheat.” He paused. Then, he added, “Just like I didn't realize you knew so much about physics.”

You sighed, leaning back into your seat. “It's not your fault,” you told him. Firmly. “I purposefully acted that way, as if I didn't know.”

He hesitated, “Are you—are you embarrassed of knowing?”

You shook your head. You knew what he was thinking, and it pained you. “No, not at all. I'm the opposite of embarrassed, why would I? But... I guess I don't have fond memories of physics. My mom used to make me write notes for her lectures when she was busy with her night work, but I hated it, I only wanted to play with my dolls. She used to say it was the only thing she ever asked of me, that I shouldn't be such an ungrateful kid. I guess it stuck with me. It somehow killed the magic of learning physics for me for many years.”

He was silent for a moment, deep in thought. You bit the inside of your cheek. You wondered if he was gonna try to comfort you, say something motivational. While you weren't opposed to the idea, he must know you hated those kinds of talks. Especially considering the environment they were in.

Finally, he said, “For the record, being good at physics is like being good at the second most popular sport in the world.”

That pulled a smile at your lips. “You don't know what you're talking about, do you?”

He made a noncommittal noise. “Golf?”

You snorted, “Yeah, golf is the second most popular game in the world. If golf's the second, what's the first?”

“Chess, obviously,” he was smiling. You were, too.

“Obviously.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #fanfiction #fanfic #one shot #fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic

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moonshinesonic-moonstarslight · 3 days ago

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Paper Plane's verse

Shared looks between Airplane and OG Shang Qinghua:

Dark brown hair

Dark brown eyes (look black unless the light hits them)

height

same body shape really

Sword nowhere to be seen, daggers tucked in every place they can put them (and somewhere it seems illogical to have a weapon)

Differences between Airplane's and OG Shang Qinghua's looks:

Airplane: hair is always put up in tight braids and in a bun usually neat and tidy unless you catch him on in the middle of tax season chasing down Liu Qingge for paperwork.

dark smears under his eyes (doesn't take as much rest as he should/workaholic millennial)

Sleeves tied close to the wrists, practical clothes at all times, all masculine cuts and styles

only really wears earrings and occasionally a pretty pin for his guan.

light makeup usually a bit of concealer for his eye bags and some eyeliner

OG Shang Qinghua: hair in a half up half down style - to show off the sausage curls more than it being a popular hairstyle among Peak Lords. (Loves his curls. They're the big sausage curls commonly found with Villainess characters. He takes very good care of them in comparison to Airplane who mostly grumbles about his character design choices as he fights the tangles)

healthy complexion (actually sleeps and takes breaks)

loose sleeves, feminine cuts and styles mixed with some masculine styles here and there, elaborate robes that are easily adjusted to become practical if needed (but easy to hide those modifications) [More room for weapons/equipment!]

decorative hair ornaments, dangly earrings, necklaces, and occasionally a ring or some bracelets (tends to have a season theme to match the current time of year)

more makeup than Airplane but still tasteful for an androgynous look: eyeliner, concealer (if needed), face powder, lipstick (usually blood red), ect.

Besides that the two hold themselves differently, Airplane is cold and aloof. Distant and untouchable unless he is playing pathetic and clingy for Mobei Jun (who finds the dichotomy amusing and arousing). Or letting himself be a little bit freer while talking to Cucumber-bro.

Og Shang Qinghua is warmer and seemingly more open. (You're actually safer standing next to Airplane, OG gets a little stab happy.) Dotting and overbearing to his disciples and comes off as a distant uncle you can 'of course' trust to the rest of the sect. More seductive and vicious than Airplane. (Mobei Jun doesn't try getting this version into his bed unless he is positive that there won't be an assassination attempt or that it would be a 'one in done' type of deal. But he does find the mystery of where are the weapons and how will the fool be killed fun and arousing to think about.)

Might add more later. But that's what I got so far~. Going to have to see about making one for my 'in general' differences between the two and not just for a story.

#story writing #Paper Planes #shang qinghua #og shang qinghua #original shang qinghua #airplane shooting towards the sky #moshang #og moshang

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pfritz21 · 2 days ago

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DS9 also works because it was darker than The Next Generation. Longer story arcs, conflicts, how to deal with loss. Very good stuff.

DS9 as a show dares to ask the important questions, like for example “would Star Trek still be good if it was set at the food court at the mall??” and the answer to that is “yes, and actually it will somehow be better”

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pomrania · 17 hours ago

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The problem with "what would you do with the Death Note" hypotheticals on here, that I've noticed, is that the answers are all so BORING. Like, 90% of them are either "I wouldn't use it because murder is wrong" or "I'd kill billionaires and CEOs"; and it doesn't actually matter how much of that is virtue posturing and how much of that is what people genuinely feel, because either way the result is the same in that it's not interesting.

So, I propose an alternative: the Sick Note.

It has the same "targeting" system as the Death Note, where you need to write down someone's name and know their face. It doesn't kill people, nor does it control their behaviour; you can specify the symptoms that they'll experience within the next 24 hours (by default it's "general fatigue and nausea, at a level where they can power through it but it won't be fun"), but it isn't infectious no matter how much it seems like it should be, and it doesn't cause permanent harm. You can give your target symptoms ranging from "making them WISH it had killed them" to "just enough to justify not going to something they didn't want to do anyways".

Since the Sick Note doesn't kill people, "repeats" are actually possible. You can't have someone continually under its influence; there's an "immunity period" of 24 hours after its most recent effects have ended on that person. If you want somebody completely out of commission while you're using the Sick Note, you have to be strategic, and you have to be creative.

All that being said: if you had the Sick Note, how would you use it?

For me, my first targets would be the neighbours who regularly have very loud arguments, and I'd give both of them the hack-out-your-lungs can't-talk-because-your-throat-hurts-too-much coughs. Can't scream at each other when you can't speak above a whisper, after all. I don't want them DEAD, I just want them to stop inflicting their dysfunctional relationship upon everyone within earshot. (I also have ideas for how I'd deal with the type of people you'd normally consider for the Death Note, but in the interests of sponsoring creativity, I'm not going to put them here; let's hear some of YOUR ideas first.)

#no fandom #original content #not a reblog

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silkenwinger · 2 days ago

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cherry

mdni. part 2 to this; one sided enemies to lovers (?) konig x reader.

You aren't sure this job is good for you, but you would be miserable doing anything else.

That is the unquestionable truth of the matter. Normal society rejects you, then chews on you and spits you out; and you may have taken a bite as well, bitter as it was. There was an attempt, fresh of finishing high school: it was so corroding to you your only other option was joining the army. When that grew unsustainable, too, KorTac. And you are determined to make it work: the unstable people that work with you mostly irritate you, besides some precious exceptions, but you know how they operate. You know how to cope with them.

But God if they don't make it hard!

“As I said before,” you seethe between your teeth, “Novik was spotted by our squad last week in Pashyk. We have reason to believe he might still be there.”

The lieutenant you’re speaking to just listens with dead eyes. He then blinks, and turns to speak to his squad member again.

“We will go ahead as planned…”

Fuck this shit! Not only you’re forced to work alongside another squad, full of people you don’t know, but you’re also going totally unheard. What even is the point of going after an arms dealer if you’re just going to miss him every time because you’re going to the wrong places?

In the ample debrief space, you turn to protest with your side of the room. Roze doesn’t look thrilled either, having her own recon being dismissed so blatantly. It’s harder to tell what the guys are thinking, with that whole mask business, but Horangi has that battle tension in his shoulder, a sign of unreleased disapproval and anger. König… doesn’t look very different. His posture is straight, he’s not hunching to hear the others better. He could be approving the other plan, for all you know. At the end though, you can’t have too much internal conflict, especially when you know the lieutenant knows the commanding general a good deal. Personal preferences and friendships are even more relevant in a PMC than in the normal army, which is saying something.

“It’s like they thrive on doing the wrong thing,” you vent to them later as you make for the mess, fists closed. The other squad had won the battle of deciding your next step, favoured by the higher ups.

“You tell me,” replies Roze, taking her gloves off as she moves to the food stand. “A full night of work dismissed because of their old info.”

“I say we let them do as they please and just sit on the side. We are still getting paid,” says Horangi as he sheds his mask away. Oh, potato salad…

“I would rather not catch a stray bullet from them, you know how some of their aims are,” you snicker, looking around to make sure none of them are in hearing range. You grab the cutleries.

“It won’t happen,” states a voice you haven’t heard for some minutes now. König’s. He’s standing next to you, as he does often nowadays.

It’s been some weeks since you’ve slept together. You don’t know exactly how your relationship has changed. All you know is that you’ve found it increasingly hard to insult him often and he clings to you like he’s made of velcro (and you are too). And he stuck to you already before. Despite being tempted, so far you’ve managed to not fall into the trap of giving in to your impulses again– both due to your work demands, but also because you have exerted self restraint. Since you know that König has feelings for you, the poor fool, it’s good that you aren’t leading him on. It’s the kindest thing you’ve ever done for him.

Sitting down to eat, you look at König in front of you as he raises his hood to eat. A scowl tugs at your lips, but you distract yourself with food to not think about him. Great, the potato salad is fridge cold as well. And salt less. Could this day even get worse?

“You look stupid,” you say before you can reign it in, pointing at König and his mask. He gulps audibly. Horangi and Roze don’t even mind your insult, as used as they are to them, and keep having their own conversation.

“There’s no way you aren’t getting it dirty, putting it back on every time you take a bite,” you continue, frustrated. There you are again, taking it on König. He should win an award, or fire you.

“You’re right,” he says, tone cheery, “I used to eat in my room so it was cleaner.” The unspoken is so obvious it hits you in the belly, like a well placed punch that takes your breath away. You’re so uncomfortable with the eye contact he’s holding that you look away first.

Why did this have to happen to you. When taken rationally, and without the fumes of lust, what you and König have going on is neither normal nor healthy. He should have a normal companion that elevates and cherishes him, and you should go to something that starts with t and ends with herapy. But no, you’re not going: you went while you were still in the army and it was completely useless and annoying. Plus it’s not even free in KorTac like it was back then.

There’s no other way than to sit down and hope it passes. There’s many women in KorTac; König is a tall and powerful man with a particular kind of charm. Soon hormones will do their part and lead him to other, more well adjusted shores. Far away from you and your unstable moods.

The rest of the afternoon you mope around trying to do something, anything to distract you from your impending mission. You go to the gym and do more series than usual, until your arms burn; you shoot at the range; you beat some poor recruits in hand to hand training; but still it haunts you. It’s both worrying about what you will encounter and anger at being dismissed, unheard. Exacerbating your anxiety is the feeling someone is watching as you walk about the base. You feel eyes on you as you walk through corridors and as you enter rooms.

The flesh tires before the mind, and so you retreat to your room hoping to sleep at least some hours. Like the internet recommended, you pick up a book to facilitate sleep. See? You can do mental work on your own, no shrink needed. You’re trying to read the same sentence for a minute when someone knocks at your door. You raise your voice as you ask who’s there.

Dogs come back to the place where they’re fed, and much to your chagrin, some men are all dog. And they will scratch at doors.

“It’s me…” a soft voice speaks from the other side. You recognize it immediately and don’t particularly enjoy it being there, but you’ve been trying to get better. So you tell it to enter.

König enters your room like he’s making his way through a mined zone. Not very dissimilar for him when you’re concerned. Still, he lowers his head as he passes through the door and takes some tentative steps. The sound of his boots walking on your carpet is clunky and uncertain. You slide the covers off and sit straight on your bed.

“Is there a problem?” You ask him, neither cold nor warm. You have a hunch he’s not here for any official reason, but you want to hear it from his mouth.

“No, there is no problem,” he rushes to say. You give him no reaction because you already knew that.

Looking at him, so tall and awkward, standing in your room with his hands in front of himself, moves in you something that would have been disgust a month ago. Now it’s something more akin to pity and wanting to strangle him for his way of being. You sigh, already done with his bumbling ways.

“Sit down, will you?” You tell him, and he immediately sits down at the desk chair. It takes a remarkable amount of control to not tell him good boy at that.

“Was it you creeping on me all day?” You ask him directly, like a band aid taken off by surprise. You know the answer to this already as well.

He fiddles a bit with his fingers and then nods, adding a spoken yes on his own. Your eyebrows lower in anger.

“What makes you think that’s a normal thing to do? Seriously, you disgust me at times.” He jiggles his feet, making the chair creak in strain

“I saw you were upset. But I would be making you even more upset, so I thought I would look at you from afar.” His words tumble out of him like the water of a river in flood, like he cannot control his thoughts transforming into spoken phrases.

“I’m not something for you to gawk at.” His attraction to you confuses and upsets you: you cannot understand what you did for him to like you, and maybe that’s what unsettles you. That there’s a whole world out there that sees you and chooses to perceive you in a way you cannot control. Dislike, scorn, indifference: these are reactions you can understand applied to your person, but that König would instead choose to pick like is unbearable.

“I just wanted to see you were well,” he confesses, his voice soft. For some reason, he keeps digging his grave even deeper. You feel blood rush to your face.

“You’re unbelievable. You hide yourself all the time and I have to be seen and controlled? You’re the most hypocritical person I know.” His head snaps lower now, and you think to yourself this is it. This is the time you get to break his heart completely, that you make yourself unredeemable in his eyes. No longer a fussy creature he can please by doing what she says, but a fully blooded woman that doesn’t deserve his care. Leave her to her devices, his brain should be telling him. This woman is worthless and a constant headache.

Your blood chills in your veins when his hands raise to go to his nape. The fabric of his hood falls in front, a waterfall that stops to reveal the unknown. You find König’s eyes living on a man’s face.

He’s scarred, that much is true. His nose might have been broken as well. You’re speechless to the fact that he chose to take off his mask, and instead of saying anything dumb, you decide it’s your turn to gawk. His hair is longer than normal in the military, this much you guessed right, and a pleasing auburn that matches his body hair, for as little as you saw them that other time. He looks nervous, and younger than you know he is. Overall, you like his face. It matches his personality: rough in exterior facade, showing that he’s been through a lot, but soft in behavior and gestures.

“This way,” he manages to let out, “you see me as well.”

This idiot. He’s making you do it again. You’ve really tried, but it’s like he bewitches you.

You jump out of the bed and cross the room in three wide steps. König doesn’t even know what hits him when you’re already sitting on his lap. It’s quite spacious.

“This doesn’t count as an apology for stalking me,” you tell him, inflexible, your legs straddling his. But then you start holding his face in your hands. He looks like you’ve hung the moon for him, and while the sensation is heady, it’s also uncomfortable. You distract yourself from it by kissing him. You start slow, more like nibbling at his lips, uncharted territory. He tries reciprocating, thankfully not using his tongue yet, just pushing his lips against yours, chaste and innocent. You laugh against his mouth and he starts giggling too, a weirdly intimate touch that you weren’t expecting. You’re no longer laughing at him so much as you’re laughing together.

“Follow my lead,” you tell him simply, and he nods, nose brushing against yours. You begin kissing him again, this time for real, your tongue tracing first his lips and then the inside of his mouth. When it slides against his own, you urge him to reciprocate. He does, albeit shyly, but when you start really going at it he gets the hang of it. Truly, an adapting genius. You run your hands in his hair, soft and smooth, while he keeps his hand diligently on your hips, straying neither up nor down. You guess, for his patience again shown when you mistreat him in public, that he deserves a reward of sorts. When your hands move away he makes a strangled sound, but shuts up real quickly when he sees them grab the hem of your t-shirt to take it off. Already braless for bed, your tits go from being completely unknown to him to being in front of his eyes. The expression on his face, unguarded and unrestrained, is almost laughable again, but you’re feeling neglected and you don’t want to turn this into a full bullying session.

“Touch me. Don’t be shy,” you tell him, index finger in front of his lips, and again he nods, resolute. He cups your breast like it’s the holy grail, and that’s exactly what you were afraid of. That you’re an idol instead of a human being to him. Even if it’s a flattering idea.

“I won’t break, you goof,” you berate him but guide him as well, putting your hand over his, showing him how you like to be touched. The other you grab to put on your lower back. Instructed by you, his touches become more real, more vivid; he runs his hand against your side, your hip, then goes back to grope your chest. The sensation makes you move forward, grinding your body against his, and your wet pussy sends a sting of pleasure up your body from the contact against his crotch. König moves to suck your nipple then, now dedicated to covering your chest with care. His suckles are gentle but intense, a motion that is never too rough nor mild; when he is done with one breast he switches to the other without any input, and you smile, ruffling his hair a bit. He looks up at you then, face adorably red and flushed, and moves back to kiss you on the mouth again. Taken by surprise, you emit an embarrassing sound that wakes you up. You break off the kiss, drizzle of spit briefly linking you two, and rush to get off him.

His expressions are so clear now that he’s masked. And right now he’s looking at you like you just burned his house to the ground, sweaty, flushed and miserable. Unable to stand that look on his face, you clear your throat.

“Get on the bed,” you only say, and cringe a bit at the high pitched tone of your voice. König lights up again at your words, like you’ve built his house again and it’s even bigger and more splendid than it was before. He walks with his legs wide, visibly working around his erection, and the sight almost makes you facepalm. Thankfully, you can busy yourself by taking off your pants, doing it so rushedly your thumb’s nail makes a red scratch on your thigh. Watching you from the bed, König starts taking off his clothes. You didn’t tell him to do that but you will grant him this much after turning away from his kiss. He awaits, loyally, sitting on the opposite edge.

“Well? Lay down,” you tell him from the edge of the bed, bracing yourself for the next act. It’s something that you’ve thought about these past days, but to think it will happen now that he’s maskless prickles on your spine. Once you’re done, you turn to see his feet are right next to you, and he’s not quite laying down but more like sitting up with his legs stretched out. These military beds weren’t built for men like König.

You crawl over to him; you’re not trying to be particularly seductive, but maybe you’re doing it anyway, because his mouth is slightly open, oafish look on his face and all. So irritating– you can’t wait to make it go away. You reach his midsection on all fours, and your hand locks around his cock like you’ve done it a hundred times. He’s leaking all over, the poor thing. His leg twitches: you observe his expression as you pump him a couple of times and, satisfied by it changing to something less stupid, you straddle him again. You’re unsure you can take him without any preparation, but being on top allows you to change your mind quickly. Guiding his cock inside you, you flinch a little at the start and stop midway through, taking a few breaths. You’re plenty wet, and you’ve taken it before, but it’s still a challenge. Thankfully you’re made of stern stuff.

“I’m sorry…” says König, and you could really slap him for saying something this stupid while you’re trying to put his dick in you.

“Don’t be,” you reassure him anyway, huffing. That’s on you for being greedy. Finally, after a while of praying and relaxing and moving a bit after bit, you can take him to base. You sigh as he fills you whole and more, and he moans a contented noise. One of his hands comes to hold your hips, gently, gallantly, as if to say Do what you must and I’ll be there. Readjusting your legs, you start riding him. This has been your plan all along, but the feel of his long, hard cock inside you is more overwhelming than expected, and maybe you’ve missed him just a touch. Moaning, you grasp at his chest, until one of your hands grabs his neck and you dig your nails into the pale strong meat of it. König shouts, a sudden and sharp noise– you grind against his body to give something to your neglected clit.

“You– you can, hngh, move too you know…” you tell him, out of breath and aching sweetly as you bounce on his cock. You want him to feel involved as well… not like he’s a toy you use to get off.

“Alright,” he says, smiling at you like he doesn’t have a worry in the world, and you feel an undercurrent of shame again. His heels point on the mattress then, and he starts matching your thrusts from the bottom, the head of his cock reaching a point so far inside you you’re almost certain has never been reached before. Your moans have become needy cries as you match König’s movements, his grunting almost quiet, concentrated on fucking the way you want. Before you know it, two strong arms have bound you by your torso, and your chest makes contact with König’s. He’s holding you, like you’re making love and not taking out frustrations on each other… You could scream, but the change in position and angle has you curling your toes even more, pleasure mounting inside of you. König is panting in your neck, a desperate noise, and you join your arms to hold him, too, his breath hot against your body. Soon enough of his touch, of this spiked beast being tamed by his kindness, you come, letting out a disjointed mewl. Feeling your pussy constrict him even more, König hurries his last strokes, coming inside you with his head in your chest. His rumbling drawl sends rippling tingles all over your body.

You lay there on top of him for a while. Maybe you’re also a bit scared to look him in the eye after kissing and holding him. You reason this is what he’s wanted all along, and maybe you’ve been wanting something along these lines too. Finally, your knees done for, you slide out of him, leaving a mess on your thighs and his, and try to stand but miserably fail, knees buckling. Humiliated, you angrily jump over to lay down next to him. Only you could ruin your post orgasm bliss… all by yourself. Unexpectedly, König speaks.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, tone dangerously sleepy. Your bed is not equipped for two grown adults of your size sleeping on it; and your odds are not good against König in your sleep. The chances of you falling off are very high. But since you can’t go anywhere for a while, you might as well oblige him.

“Yes,” you tell him, but snuggle to him before he can do it to you. His hands are greedy now, too: he brushes your hair and your neck and your ass, reverent, back to his worshipping mood. He takes his time exploring your body, blue eyes dragging over the details, your scars, your birthmarks. Embarrassed by his lavish exploration, you hide your head in his neck. You want him to lay down more comfortably, but maybe he prefers this to having his feet hang off.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, but I’m on birth control,” you mutter against his muscles. It’s very stupid to tell him this after he already came in you twice, but considering you’ve sprung it on him very suddenly both times, you cannot blame a guy for not asking.

“I know!” He exclaims instead, joyful. “I heard you saying so to Roze three months and five days ago, in the helicopter!” He taps his long fingers against your back, maybe to the beat of a song or a lullaby, and you shudder. Again, his obsession for you is simply inexplicable. The mean streak returns as your lungs fill, like a cat ready to scratch.

“You’re freaking me out,” you grimace and take your face off from his neck, trying to lay down on your back as much as you can in the limited space, back arched. His laugh is light and airy, reverberating through your simple room. It tugs a smile off you too and it makes you feel like everything will be alright, at work… and maybe with König, too.

#anyone else avoidant. lol #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #konig x reader #konig #yours truly

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justmeinadaze · 18 hours ago

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I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 10 (Steddie X You)

Warning: Soft Dom Security Steddie & Sub Singer Fem Y/N, SMUT, dirty talk, semi-public (in an office at a party), light choking, FLUFF, they love each other, Steve makes a declaration to his father involving Y/N, Y/N gives them a present <3

ANGST *throws a baton in the air and catches it in angst!*

There is a shooting that's referenced throughout that Steddie protect her from, blood is mentioned, slight cliffhanger ending, Steves Dad is a dick (of course), calls Y/N demeaning names (trash, mentions her past), mentions of loss of a loved one.

Like most chapters of this series, this deals with some heavy themes but it's not too bad. Enjoy my friends <3!

Word Count: 4033

Series Here/Donate to Me :)

Sarah pants as she all but sprints into Hawkin’s General, growling as she finally makes it through all the paparazzi flashing pictures outside while the police department keeps them at bay.

“Where is Y/N?! I’m her agent!”, she practically screams to one of the officers as her eyes search for a face she could recognize.

“Hey, hey. Let her through.”, an older gentlemen instructed as he ushered her forward into a waiting room.

“What happened?! Where is Y/N?!”

“I don’t know. All they’ll tell me is there was a shooting. I’ve tried to get a goddamn doctor to tell me something but… I’m Wayne by the way. I’m Eddie Munson’s uncle.”

“Where are they? Eddie and Steve? Are they ok?!”

“I-I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

***

Steve heavily sighs as the elevator doors slowly open to the party on the third floor of. His parent’s building.

Even though your arm was clinging to both of theirs, his hand over yours seem to be grasping for dear life.

“We don’t have to do this, Steve.”, you whisper causing Eddie’s gaze to shift that way.

“No, no. I’m ok. I can do this. What about you? D-Do you need anything or—”

Both men had shown fear before when they were trying to find you when you ODed but they still had that aggressive, protective demeanor behind it like the big protector men they were. As Steve stuttered over his words, he seemed like a frightened child about to tell his parents he failed a test and your heart broke.

Not caring about any eyes in the room or what people would think, your palm cupped his cheek as you brought your lips to his.

“No, baby. I’m ok. We’re right here.”

The metalhead softly smiled as he comfortingly patted his friend’s shoulder.

“I can kiss you to if you want. I mean—”

“No. No, thank you.”, Steve laughs as you giggle at Eddie’s antics.

As the three of you walk further into the room, you take in the high class setting around you. Whatever Steve’s dad sold or did, he was definitely doing it well because everything seemed exceptionally expensive with nothing out of place. The stuffy air was slightly suffocating but you were used to that when it came to events like this but normally you had something in your system to calm your nerves.

“Champagne?”, a waiter asked as he held out the tray, startling you slightly.

“No, thank you, and don’t ask again.”

The boy just nodded before swishing away to the next person surprising you as you watched him nonchalantly smile and ask someone else.

“You two can drink if you want.”

“No, honey, we’re ok. Plus, even if this is a party, we still need to be on alert for you.”

“He means his dad and his bullshit.”, Eddie whispers, winking your way when you smile.

The sound of a woman’s laugh and high pitch squeal caught your attention as she made a beeline towards Steve. Since neither man jumped in front of you, you assumed this was someone they knew.

“Baby! Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re home. Hello, Edward! And oh my gosh who is this you brought with you?”

“This is our client. Y/N Y/L/N, meet my mom. Mom; Y/N.”

“Oh, hi. It’s very nice to meet you.”, you grin as you extend your hand out to hers before she grabs it and pulls you into a hug while Eddie snickers behind you.

“Mom…mom…come on, now.”

“I’m just so happy to meet you. Plus, I want you to have a good image of me in your mind before my asshole husband ruins it.”

With that she turns around and motions for your three to follow her.

“Is she high?”, you whisper with wide amused eyes.

“Um, no, but I think she’s definitely had a champagne bottle…or two.”, Steve sighs as he places his hand on his lower back and guides you forward.

***

“Steven! Good to see you, son.”

“Hey, dad.”, the man replies with a tight smile as he awkwardly embraces his father. “You remember Eddie.” The man slightly grimaces at the metalhead even as he nods in his direction before his disgust settles on you. “And this is Y/N. She’s the client we look after.”

“Hm. You brought a client to our event? I’m sure she has better things to do unless you just wanted to show off your wealth.”, his dad sassed causing your head to tilt.

“I have no wealth to show off. Plus, she’s my friend—”

“Oh, your friends with someone you do business with? Because that won’t end badly.”

“Bill.”, Steve’s mother hisses as your grip around his hand tightens.

“May I have a moment alone with my son?”

As Steve starts to pull away, your palm tugs him back eliciting a soft smile from him as he turns to face you.

“Don’t go in there. I don’t like the way he talks to you.”

“It’s ok, baby. I’m used to it.”

“Steve…”

Cupping your face in his palms, he kisses your forehead and a heavy sigh leaves you when you finally let him go.

“He’ll be alright, sweetheart.”, Eddie tries to calm you as he rubs your back.

################

“Look, I don’t know how many times I can tell you people I didn’t see anything!”, a man growls, grabbing Sarah’s attention as she heads that way with Wayne in tow pausing when she finds him yelling at an officer.

He seemed incredibly irate with his suit half undone and his face redder than a tomato as sweat dripped down his features.

“Bill…can you please…stop…yelling.”, a woman sighs from her seat near him with a can of Ginger Ale against her forehead.

“Mr. Harrington, this was your event and my understanding is it’s pretty guarded so how did the perpetrator get in?”

“Mr. Harrington? You’re Steven’s dad? Is he ok?!”

“Goddamn it! Am I speaking Spanish or something? I. DON’T. KNOW! All I know is my son shows up after so much time and brings this trash singer he claims to be in love with—”

“What?”, Sarah asks, cutting him off. As she shifts her gaze towards Eddie’s uncle, his own gravitates towards the floor and she knows it’s true. “Well, that explains some things.”

***

Eddie chuckles lightly as he scans your worried features, grabbing your hand and placing his own on your lower back as you both gently sway to the violin music from the floor below.

“He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Trust me.”

“I just…I remember what it was like hearing my parents talk to me like that. It stays with you…”

“Yeah…definitely longer than any bruises.”

Your gaze shifts to his as his jaw unhinges and he gently smiles your way.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no, your highness. You didn’t do anything wrong.”, he comforts as he twirls you and playfully dips you, making you laugh before pulling you back up into his embrace. “My dad definitely had a bite to his words. I think what’s weird is… I could always anticipate when a fist was coming but his words…they seemed to come out of nowhere sometimes…”

Wrapping your arms around him, you rested your head on his chest as you squeezed him tightly to you.

“I love you, Eddie Munson.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.”, he whispers.

The door to Mr. Harrington’s office door bangs open as an angry Steve stomps out before his dad grabs his arm.

“Don’t do this, son. You’re throwing your entire future away.”

“No, I’m not. I’m good at what I do, dad, and I’m not giving up my business for yours.”

“Oh, yeah? And what part of fucking your client is good for business?!”

The man stood up straighter and on impulse Eddie pushed you behind him, keeping a hand on your arm to make sure you were safe.

“Lower your fucking voice. She’s been through enough.”

“I know, Steven. I can fucking read. Arrests, alcohol, drugs, parties. Hell, didn’t she just overdose a few months ago!?”

“She’s been sober and doing better—What the fuck am I doing? I don’t need to explain anything to you. I love her, dad, and I love my job. Come on, guys.”, he ushers, grabbing your arm as he pulls you both down the hall to head for the stairs.

“Wait, wait.”, you insist as you pull him into an empty office. “What happened there? Talk to me, baby.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I know we wanted to keep this a secret. I just…he was talking about you and it was pissing me off and I just blurted it out. I love you so much and I’m not going to let ANY asshole talk to you or about you like your trash—”

Grasping his collar, you yanked him to you and smashed your lips to his. It took him a moment but after a few seconds, Steve finally exhaled as his shoulders deflated and he lifted you into his arms to carry you to the desk behind you.

“If you’re going to get riled up about every asshole who calls me trash, we’ll need to hire some more security guys.” The man laughed as he kissed you again, cupping your face in his palms. “We can tell people…if you want…maybe talk to Sarah first but…”

“You don’t have to do that for us, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to hide you guys. I love you…both of you… I just don’t want to ruin your business. You said it could look bad if—”

Eddie’s fingers gripping your cheeks interrupted you as he turned you to face him so he could kiss your lips.

“Let’s not worry about that right now, pretty girl.”

Steve’s lips sucked on your neck as he rolled his hips between your legs eliciting a heavy pant from you both.

“U-Use me, baby. It’s ok. I want you to. I’m yours.”

Leaning back, his eyes search yours as his palm caresses your face and his thumb grazes your lips.

“What if we get caught?”, he teases, making you giggle as you circle one of your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you.

“We’ll just have to be quick and quiet, Mr. Harrington.”

A loud groan of approval leaves him as your own hand slides under his button up shirt near his neck and he hastily fumbles with his belt, pulling down his pants enough to free his cock. Steve lifts you slightly to help you take off your panties that you promptly toss as Eddie who rolls his eyes as he winks your way.

After tugging you closer to the edge of the desk, he tilts down to lick a long stripe through your folds before tapping your clit with his length and guiding himself inside you as you fell back against the wood underneath you.

“Oh my God—”

“Shhhh…”, the metalhead scolded as he quickly came around covered your mouth.

“Fuck…so deep…”, you whine as Eddie removes his hand to pet your head.

“Yeah? Feels good, your highness? Jesus, I can’t wait for the world to find out you’re ours. This beautiful girl deserves the world.”

Grabbing your throat, Steve pulled you up right and rested his forehead against yours as he thrust his hips at a rapid pace knowing your time may be short.

“That’s it, baby. Right there. Mmph…”

“Right there, honey? Fuck you feel so good. We’re going to take such good care of you. Mmm—you’ll never have to worry about anyone hurting you ever again.” His last sentence came out as a bit of growl and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he did the same holding you to his chest. “You’re safe with me, Y/N. I promise.”

“I know, Steve. I know. Make me cum, baby, please.”

Honoring your request, you clung to each other as he slammed his cock into you, muffling your moans in his shoulder as the ball dropped in your belly with him following close behind.

“I love you, Y/N.”, Steve panted.

“I love you to.”

As he ran his fingers through his hair, he backed away from you and you smiled as Eddie came around, lifting you into his arms to carry you to a nearby armchair where he took a seat with your straddling his waist.

The metalhead watched you with admiration as you unbuckled his belt and removed his cock from his slacks. After spitting into your hand, he mewled as you stroked it along his shaft and slowly descended onto him.

“Fuck me.”, Eddie groans as he cups your face in his palm and brings your lips to his. “Good girl, your highness. Bounce on my cock just like that.”

His fingers tangle in your hair as your head falls into his shoulder to muffle your moans as your hips grind and roll against him.

“I-I love you, Eddie. Oh my God.” Lightly tugging you back, you groan against his lips as you whisper against them. “You’re safe with me to, baby. I promise. I-I’ll be good. I p-promise I won’t embarrass you.”

“You never have, sweetheart.” Planting his feet, he thrust upwards, slamming the tip of his length against that spongy spot deep inside you roughly as your eyes roll closed. “I k-know people pretended to care about you, baby, but we genuinely do—Jesus—we just want y-you to be happy and—and healthy so…”

“So what, Eddie? Tell me, please.”

Pulling you back down against his shoulder, he hugs you to him just as Steve had as he fully takes over pumping his length while murmuring into your ear.

“So we can spend our lives with you—fuck—have a family with you…grow old together…we’d marry you, princess, if we could…put a ring on your finger…show the world you’re ours and—fuck I’m gonna cum—you’re safe.”

Your lips crash to his as your body trembles and pussy quivers around him as you cum. Eddie grunts at the feeling, his fingers digging into your flesh as his rhythm faulters and you feel him warm your insides.

#################

A door slowly opens and Sarah gasps as Steve steps through with blood still clinging to his what was once pristine shirt.

“Steve! Oh my God. Are—Are you alright? What happened?!”

“I…we…I promised myself I would do everything…to make sure she never saw hospital again…”, he mumbled before falling to his knees as Wayne caught him halfway down and held him to his chest as the boy sobbed. “This is my fault. I never should have…brought her there…my dad…I can’t focus…”

“Steven…I know you’re hurting but…I need you to tell me if Eddie is alright.”

As he continued to cry, your agent and the metalhead’s uncle kept hearing the same thing over and over.

“This is my fault…”

***

You grin in the mirror at the reflection of both boys straightening up their attire as you finish quickly restyling your hair.

“Hey Steve, can you hand me my clutch, please?”

“Oh manners. I love it.”, he smiles as he reaches for what you asked and bows as he presents it to you. “Your highness.”

“Thank you.”, you giggle. “It’s funny…you mentioned rings because…I got you guys a present before we flew out here and I was waiting for the right time to give them to you…”

After digging in your bag, you produce a box that Eddie giddily takes causing the other boy to playfully roll his eyes. Inside were two silver bands with an engraving etched along the inside.

“’ Je suis à toi et tu es à moi.’”, the pretty boy reads aloud in choppy French that has you beaming wide. “Something about you and me. I know that much.”

“I am yours and you are mine?” Your jaw drops as the metalhead chuckles your way before he shrugs. “I’ve, um, I may have been trying to learn some French since it’s your safe place. That way whenever we go back I can actually understand what people are saying. Was I right?”

You nod as you wrap your arms around him and kiss his lips before doing the same with Steve.

“We’ll get you something too, honey. I promise—”

“You don’t have to. I just…I saw them and I thought of you…how much I love you.”

“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we get out of here, go to the diner, and fill up on some greasy burgers?”

“Oh my God. I’m starving.”, you jokingly whine as you follow them out the door and down the stairs. “I have to run to the restroom first if that’s ok?”

“Oh yeah, now she’s asking. Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to hold your dress up?”

Smiling, you smack Eddie’s chest as you scurry to the restroom to do what you needed.

Everything seemed completely normal and you were the happiest you had been in what felt like your entire life. You shouldn’t have been surprised when you opened the bathroom door and were met with a face you hadn’t seen in person in a very long time.

“Natalie?”, you ask as your eyes promptly search for the boys.. “What, um, what are you doing here in Hawkins?”

“I saw the interview… saw some sightings online of you on a plane to Indiana…did some research on your entourage now…put two and two together.”

Something was off in her tone as she spoke and you noticed immediately that her hands were shaking.

“Natalie why are you here?”, you ask her as calmly as possible.

“You didn’t go to Simon’s funeral.”

“I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“For my brother’s girlfriend to be at his funeral?!”

You jumped at her outburst and held out your hand hoping to calm her.

“Natalie…Simon and I broke up months ago…”

“Then why was he with you that night?”, she asked as tears began to leave her eyes. “I have…so many questions and every answer I do find…leads back to you, Y/N.”

“Honey, I—”

“Don’t do that! Don’t you dare talk down to me!” Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out a handgun making you gasp as she pointed it your way.

“Y/N, honey is everything—” As Steve walked down the hallway, she turned on him and his eyes widen as he holds up his palms to show he’s unarmed.

“NO! No, Natalie! Keep talking to me! You said you had questions about your brother. Ask me! Ask me anything!”

Her wild eyes kept flicking between you both as she back away and kept the weapon pointed at you.

“Answer…me. If you two…broke up…why were you with him?”

“I…I had a relapse…and I knew he’d…he’d give me a fix.”

“So you used him?”, she growled.

“Yes.”, you whisper as your own tears begin to fall. “I’m not perfect, Nat, but—”

“But you’re still here and my brother is gone! Do you know what my mom and I have been through?!”

“I would give anything to bring him back. I really would—”

“Fucking liar!”

Right as she cocks the gun, Steve rushes forward to lift her arm in the air as Eddie comes out of nowhere and tackles you from the side out of harms way.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”, he panics as he takes off his suit jacket. “You’re bleeding, b-baby. Where…where did you get hit?”

Your hands fly down your body, feeling the dampness of blood but not finding a wound.

“I don’t know. I don’t feel—Eddie?”

The metalhead’s eyes flutter as he collapses in your arms and you realize the blood that was on your dress was sticking to his torso. Tearing open his shirt, you found a wound on his abs and quickly grab his jacket to press against it.

“STEVE!”

While Eddie had been attending to you, the other man was able to subdue Simon’s sister and get the gun away from her as security appeared to cuff her. Sliding to your side, he moved the jacket back to assess his injury. Silently, he pulls out his phone as you continue to hold the long-haired boy in your grasp.

“Yeah, we need ambulance and police at the Harrington Company building. Shooter is subdued by security and my-uh-my partner was hit in the abdomen…No…I don’t think anyone else was-was injured.” As his voice cracks, you move some Steve’s hair back with your fingers and his teary eyes immediately turn to you. “Are you ok? Were you hit?”

“No…No, I’m ok. I think…”

“Yes ma’am. I’m Steven Harrington and my partner is Edward Munson. We are security for Y/N Y/L/N…Yes ma’am…No, she says she’s fine but…” You wince as Steve delicately touches your arm and you see the slight bruising beginning to appear on your wrist. “…She may have a sprained arm from him pushing her out of the way…Yes…please…please hurry.”

“Eddie, you need to open your eyes, baby, please.”, you beg.

His lips began to move and you leaned down to hear what he was mumbling.

“I love you.”

##################

“Wayne Munson and Sarah Dash?”, the nurse called, guiding them and Steve to the hospital room.

“Y/N!”, your agent sighed in relief as she quickly scurried to your side of the room and pulled you into her arms. “Everything is going to be alright, sweetie.”

“Y/N has a small fracture at the wrist so she’ll need to wear that cast for about a month. As for Mr. Munson, he was extremely lucky. The bullet went straight through and missed anything vital. We gave him some meds to help him sleep and he’ll definitely need to rest. He’s going to be in a lot of pain these next few weeks.”

“He’ll be ok?”, Wayne asked as he placed his palm on his nephew’s chest. “We shouldn’t be worried?”

“Not from what I see… Of course, we’ll keep him for the next few days to make sure everything is alright before we let him go.”

“H-Have you heard anything about Natalie? Where is she?”, you murmur as Sarah tenderly pets your head.

“Um, that’s the young lady who…? My understanding is she’s in a cell but—”

“I can find all that out for you, honey.”, your agent relays and you nod.

After the doctor leaves, Steve’s eyes harden as he enters his professional mode you had seen many times before.

“I’m going to talk to the officers and security here at the hospital to make sure their privacy is respected and no one can sneak in.”

“Steven.”, Eddie’s uncle says with a deep authoritative tone as he grabs the boy’s arm, surprising you when he yanks it away. “Son…you’re going to want to be one of the first people he sees when he wakes up.”

As he stomps out of the room, he doesn’t even hear your socked feet slide across the linoleum. When your palm touches his shoulder, in one swift motion he grabs your forearm and shoves you hard against the wall, breathing heavily as he holds you still, raising his fist in the air defensively.

“It’s me, Steve! It’s me. It’s ok—”

“It’s NOT ok! You both got hurt! I failed!”

“You didn’t fail. You both saved me and the doctor says Eddie will be ok—”

“He shouldn’t be in there to begin with!! I should have clocked her at the party. We should have seen her. I should have noticed how agitated she was before I said anything…I-I-I…It should be me in there.”

“No, baby, no. Neither of you should be in there b-but you told me…it was part of the job…that’s why I couldn’t take that bullet for you…a bullet that was meant for ME.”

His eyes soften at your words as if finally realizing it was you he was holding and promptly let you go as he placed his hands on his hips.

“That’s my best friend, Y/N.”

As he begins to cry, you immediately tackle your arms around him and he promptly does the same, nuzzling his face into your neck as you hold him tightly to you.

####################

@rckstrbee @melodymishahiddlestan @myherometalhead

@siriuslysmoking @micheledawn1975 @cositaslua

@munsonmoonshine86 @unfocused81 @paleidiot

@dad-steddie @aol19 @strngrlytn @mrsjellymunson

@needylilgal022 @dashingdeb16 @hardladyheart

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lovelizards · 19 hours ago

Text

Two men, taller than her by half, put her on her knees and held her there. Arms shaking, try as she might, she couldn't escape from their grip.

Lord Daniel stood in front of her, looking generally displeased to even be in such a shabby little shack as he adjusted his gloves; Mabel wasn't sure where in the town this was, but she assumed it was near the walls, far away from anyone who might stumble upon them.

"What kind of fools are you that it takes two able-bodied men to restrain a wisp like this? I've been waiting an hour," the man complained, brushing a lock of blond hair from his eyes.

But there was no response from the men holding her. She tried to jerk her hands free, but only managed to wrench her shoulder.

The men had snatched her quickly and quietly, pulling her bodily off of a side path and quieting her with a heavy hand over her mouth while they wrestled her away.

"You prick!" Mabel shouted, "Not even a Count's son can do this! I'll report you, for this, for everything -! "

Lord Daniel scowled at her. He took a few steps nearer, hesitated, and flicked his eyes to the men holding her. She wasn't sure what the look meant until she was struck with an open hand on the back of her head.

Her cry was more in surprise than in pain; her father also had a heavy hand, it's not like she wasn't used to being hit. But a cold sort of dread was crackling in her stomach.

"Do you always get your men to do your dirty work?" she asked, shoulders shaking from the strain of her forced kneel, "What's wrong? Don't want your lily-soft hands to callous?"

The man's jaw set in anger, and he looked away from her with something akin to furious disbelief as he slowly, carefully, removed his doeskin gloves.

Mabel's breathing quickened, she tried to let her neck and jaw relax, and watched him to anticipate it. He reeled back and slapped her hard in the face, catching the corner of her eye with his nails and making her tear up.

"You disrespectful little bitch," Lord Daniel sighed, looking at his reddening hand with an air of disinterest, "don't you know how meaningless your life is to me? Less than a dog, less than insect. For what you've said to me I could easily get you imprisoned, or worse..."

Mabel blinked the tears out of her eyes, her teeth clenched and brows furrowed - there was a fire licking at the inside of her chest, burning unbearably hot.

"Then you must be pretty bored," she shot back, "if you're putting this much effort into dealing with an insect."

"Oh, I agree," Lord Daniel said, grabbing her cheeks and tilting her head back to see her glaring green eyes through her fringe, "are you flattered?"

Mabel caught her breath, then jerked her head out of his grasp and sank her teeth into the side of his hand.

Lord Daniel squealed in pain, beating her head with a fist and shrieking for his men to get Mabel off him. She didn't let go until she started getting light-headed and dizzy from being hit, and spat blood - a mix of hers and his - onto the ground.

"Try sickened, you pig!" She finally answered, giving him a grin full of bloody teeth.

"Augh - ! Y - you little wretch! I will kill you - I will -!"

He danced around in pain for a long few moments, holding his injured hand like he'd never been hurt once in his life before. It was a rather pathetic sight, no wonder none of the common folk took him seriously.

His threats were serious enough though.

Once he was done with his tantrum, he spun back around to face her.

"Teach her a lesson," he growled, tears in his eyes, "I need her alive, but other than that...do as you like."

"You coward! Beat me yourself!" she screamed. How could she bring complaints against two anonymous men? It had to be him!

How she longed to tear that long tail of blond hair right out of his head! Next time she got a chance to bite him, she'd make sure to take something away with her!

"My Lord..." one of the men said, his tone hesitant.

Lord Daniel threw his hair back, a blind fury in his eyes.

"Oh, what now? Is stealing her away and striking her once the lengths of your loyalty?"

"It's just...she's a girl, and -"

"You - ! For gods sake, fine!"

Daniel stalked towards her, and in the space of a breath had ripped her bodice open. Almost involuntarily, the scream she let out was feral and piercing. But Daniel called for her to be silenced, and she was, as he stripped her outer layers away - a leering, manic grin pulling at his lips - until she was left trembling in nothing but her chemise.

"There!" Lord Daniel said, out of breath and admiring his own work, "You see? With short hair and that figure - might as well be a boy. Are you happy? Now do your duty!"

There was only another moment of hesitation, and then Mabel was thrown to the floor. A booted foot caught her in the ribs, another stomped on her ankle. One of the strong hands grabbed a fist-full of her hair and yanked her up, only to hit her again in the face - causing hot blood to pour from her nose and her lip to split.

She couldn't form a single thought. She couldn't even manage to form words. There was only pain, that rained down on her from all angles, as she was man-handled and beaten in that dingy, dark shed near the edge of town.

After a time, though Mabel didn't know how long, everything went still and quiet. Though her body screamed in pain with every breath she took, with every beat of her heart, the men stopped attacking her.

She lay battered on the floor, one eye mostly swollen shut, her dress ruined with dirt, and listened - barely conscious - to the shuffling of feet, and far away muttering voices. It was only two. Lord Daniel must have left at some point. Too much of a coward to see the deed done...

"Nnngh..." she tried to shift her body, but her right arm burst with a pain so intense it rendered her vision white for a few seconds.

Somewhere, a door opened, flooding the shack with late afternoon light, and then closed and left her in the dark again.

Tears fell unbidden from her eyes, and there was no stopping them, but it wasn't like she could stay laying there on the floor until she died.

She tested the other arm, and though it moved haltingly, it worked.

With a careful prodding, much like she did when examining her birds for injuries, she felt her injured arm for anything that might have badly broken. But the bones seemed to be intact despite the pain.

"Don't be a baby..." she tried to mumble, though her cheeks made the words a garbled mess at best, "don't be...a baby...get up..."

Groaning, flinching every second at another new wave of pain, her entire body trembling, Mabel slowly pulled herself up onto her knees, and then onto her feet.

They'd left her outer clothes and head kerchief in the dirt nearby. She had to get dressed. She couldn't be seen in public dressed like a prostitute - if anyone recognized her, she would shame Lady Iris.

And though re-dressing herself was excruciating, that thought far outweighed the pain.

The walk home was slow. She had no money for a carriage, and doubted greatly if anyone in their right mind would take her as a customer looking like the worst of disheveled beggars on the street.

The ankle that had been stomped on twinged with every step, she could feel the glancing eyes of passers-by, but that didn't matter to her. She walked slowly, painfully, step-by-step, until finally as the sun was setting she came to the servant's entrance of the Baron's manor.

A couple of young laundry girls who were taking down dry bed linens saw her approaching, screamed, and ran inside. Thankfully, they sent out the head maid, a stern but fair old woman called Anne.

"M - Mabel! Oh - oh Mabel, by the gods what happened to you?!"

"You can't let...Lady Iris know..." she mumbled, though she wasn't sure if Anne understood her, "she'll worry...she'll..."

"M...Mabel...?"

She turned around, and saw Lady Iris, in her outdoor clothes and walking with a couple of her maids. She must have been out for a walk.

Well, Mabel had never been lucky.

"Oh, L - " she cleared her throat, "My Lady!"

She put on a big grin, though she knew there was no fooling her friend, and shrugged her shoulders, "I got into a scrap with some other girls in town! Would you - believe it?"

Of course she wouldn't. But she had to at least make a show of being okay. At least then, maybe Iris wouldn't worry as much. She wouldn't feel as guilty.

"Mabel...oh, Mabel -" Iris rushed to her, reaching her arms out, and Mabel thought for just a moment that her friend, and her deepest love since childhood, might kiss her right there.

And then she thought: "oh, someone is tilting the ground under my feet," as her body pitched forward, and she lost consciousness.

#whump #whump art #whump writing #whumpblr #whump community #female whumpee #lady whump #tw violence #tw forced stripping #stripping does not lead to noncon #no nudity #tw blood #tw injury #kind of just love forcing whumpees to their knees #and pathetic dangerous men #IrisMabel

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bitletsanddrabbles · 1 day ago

Text

Island of the Procrastinating Brain

I swear, my brain is actively trying to drive me insane.

Back in 2022 it came up with a plot for @alex51324 's "Island of the Gays" where the Duke of Crowborough comes to the Island because, well, by this point the man's less of a human being than he is a walking bundle of neurosis. I got through a couple of scenes before my brain got tired and stalled out, but I still have a good frame work. Every once in awhile, I come back and poke at it and get out a few more sentences. Maybe even a paragraph or two.

Yeah, have I mentioned I'm not a fast writer?

And Phillip does NOT want to deal with his issues and Thomas does NOT want to deal with Phillip, which, okay, FAIR, but that's kinda the point of the whole thing. But in the meantime my brain still wants to write Phillip on the Island, so what's it done?

Come up with a sequel, naturally!

And it really, really wants to write this sequel despite the fact I can't do it properly until I've written the first piece, which neither my brain or my characters seems interested in, because they are all PUNKS, but my brain will NOT stop thinking about this hypothetical sequel which, at this point, will never be written.

So I'm just going to write out the summary for the thing here, in case anyone's curious and wants a laugh, because I can and maybe it'll galvanize the lump of grey cells in my skull to be productive. Maybe. Not holding my breath.

Things you need to know before going into this:

Random.org has decided that Thomas is married to Peter Fitzroy for this one, which is kinda important for Thomas's characterization.

Phillip only kinda counts as human at this point, but he's actively trying to fix that. The results are mixed.

It was inspired by a couple of polls I ran when I was trying to figure out where I was taking the first piece (hey! I have the last scene written!) and the suggestions that Phillip might like working in some sort of architectural field (believe that was from @o-rchidae) and that he wind up married with an older working class bloke who would not take his shit.

Right then. Let's go.

Okay, so, this takes place a couple of years after the Walking Disaster of Crowborough arrived. At one point he was tapped to help with building or repairs or some such and he realized he liked it, so he's taken to studying books on building and architecture and has joined up with the local work crew. The problem is, he's basically teaching himself out of books and then applying it to real life, so he keeps getting ideas about "Say, why don't we do this thing THIS way?" and while it'll seem like a reasonable idea, there is, in fact, a very good reason NOT to do it that way, but because a) he's a Duke and b) a bunch of people hate him, on general principle if nothing else, everyone just goes "Oh, okay, sure" and the do it that way and…it fails. And the people who hate him laugh and it's obvious that EVERYONE knew it was a bad idea and he gets frustrated, but he wont' say it, because a) Duke and b) boys don't cry.

And this goes on for awhile.

After a bit, though, a new guy shows up who has lots of experience building things. It was kinda his job before he got here. He is educated in the ways of Building Things and knows what's up. He's also at least ten years Phillip's senior and has limited patience for upper class twits, so when he joins the crew and is informed there's this know-it-all-Duke who's always demanding they do things his way (by which we mean 'making suggestions that everyone just goes along with'), even though it's stupid and wastes time and resources, this guy goes "Pff, not on MY watch!"

And sure enough, the next time Phillip makes one of his suggestions, instead of "Yeah, sure, okay" he gets "We're not doing that." Why? "'Cause it's a stupid idea that won't work." WHY? "Because (insert full explanation of why the thing wouldn't work)." And Phillip stops asking and the rest of the crew cheers and laughs at how the old guy sure showed him and they anticipate an end to the questions.

THIS TOTALLY BACKFIRES.

Instead Phillip, who had actually been kinda slowing down on the suggestions over time, is making ALL of the suggestions, ALL of the times, and arguing every last aspect of the suggestion with Old Timer before giving up. The crew can't put up a fence without an argument. Old Timer starts calling Phillip 'Phil'. Rather than tell him to stop, Phillip just starts calling Old Timer by a similar nickname, which Old Timer ignores, because not giving in to his own trick, oh no. There's talk of starting a police department in case they murder each other.

After this has gone on for awhile there is a Big Dramatic Plot Twist and the Old Timer goes out into the woods for something and…doesn't come back in a timely manner. He stays gone long enough for people to get worried and mount a search. To everyone's shock, Phillip wants to come. He's quite insistent on the point. They finally agree to put him in Thomas's party because he and Thomas "get along now" (read: Thomas has spent enough time with Peter talking him down that he can tolerate Phillip's presence under the right circumstances as long as he doesn't say anything). The parties go out and before long, Thomas and Phillip's party has the good luck to find Old Timer. He's accidentally been injured badly enough he can't walk and crawling through the woods is not easy going. The manner of this accident wasn't a super obvious bad idea, but that could maybe have been avoided with a bit more thought, perhaps, with luck. Most of the party just nods and goes "Yeah, sounds about right, could have happened to anyone."

…Phillip flips straight out and starts screaming at Old Timer for being an idiot who could have got himself killed. And then storms off a ways into the woods, back toward the village, leaving everyone else wondering a) the best way to get the injured man back home and b) what the heck just happened with the prissy little Duke. Thomas gets deputized to go find out what Phillip's problem is. There is protesting involved, but he finally gives in because he'd like to be home by dinner, thank you very much.

Phillip has, by this point, stopped to have a smoke, which both gives Thomas an opportunity to catch up and, thankfully, a scent to find him by. Thomas asks him why on earth he's so upset that Old Timer is hurt since the two of them hate each other and everyone figured Phillip would LOVE it if the other man died…

And that's when he finds out that everyone's had that relationship all backwards. Phillip doesn't hate the Old Timer, oh no! He loves being called 'Phil'. He absolutely adores the fact that when he asks "Why don't we do this?", rather than just go "Yeah, okay" and waste time and resources doing something HE KNOWS WON'T WORK, the Old Timer says 'no' and, over the course of the argument, actually EXPLAINS why not, which means Phillip ACTUALLY LEARNS THINGS. The more he argues, the better he becomes at building things and he doesn't have to try and decipher what some book is telling him or guess what the book might be leaving out and he LOVES IT and if the Old Timer had died, how would he learn things then? When Thomas points out that he'd learn just as much - maybe more - if he just asked the Old Timer to teach him things rather than argue, Phillip low key panics because what if he figures out Phillip WANTS to learn and stops talking to him or refuses because he doesn't like him at all?

By this point Thomas is a) trying to remember if he was ever THIS paranoid, and praying he wasn't and b) wondering what on earth to do with a Duke who is clearly in love with a crusty old working class codger, but hasn't figured it out yet.

He decides to tell Rouse and make it HIS mess to deal with.

Phillip and the Old Timer eventually get married and get a cottage of their own and Phillip about dies happy at the idea of a home that he actually owns instead of something that he's the custodian of for the next generation who will be the custodians for the generation after that and so on.

#downton abbey #thomas barrow #downton abbey fanfiction #fanfiction #island of the gays #duke of crowborough

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