#that's because its a really big deal for me to have written something again

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Of Wolf and Man

Prompt: Werewolf | Word Count: 5533 | Rating: E | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | CW: Minor Injury, A Sprinkle of Good Boy Kink | Tags: Canon Divergence, S3 Happened, But No S4 Events, Different Meeting After High School, Werewolf Steve, Animal Lover Eddie, A Touch of Hurt/Comfort, But Mostly Fluff

Eddie hears the growl, and freezes mid-step. He was just headed out to Skull Rock to make a quick deal with a jock too scared to meet at his usual picnic table in the woods, and this is what he gets for his trouble? About to be eaten by a wild fucking animal over twenty bucks worth of weed? Great, just great. He isn't sure what direction the growl came from, it sounded all around him, all at once. Like it was somehow beside him, below him, and above him. He scans as far as his eyes can see, then finally looks up, and when he does, there's a big dog standing on a rock overhead.

"Easy there, buddy," Eddie says, because he's an animal guy. He's not one to turn any species away, as a general rule. His brain suddenly unhelpfully supplies: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species. Which isn't gonna help him survive a feral dog attack, but honestly, take that, Mr. Johnston? He did pay attention in biology class. Both times.

It doesn't matter, but what does matter, is that he can usually charm anything into being his friend for a few minutes. Racoons, opossums, the occasional armadillo. 

More cats than he'll ever be able to count.

Sometimes a stray dog, or two. 

And that's when he realizes this is not a dog. It's a wolf. And there definitely shouldn't be any wolves roaming around just outside of Hawkins. It has to be someone's pet that has gotten loose. Those are legal in Indiana. Or: And his wheels really start turning here, if this one somehow doesn't already belong to someone else, maybe he could wrangle it into being his own pet.

Now, that's an idea. Wayne would shit, but a pet wolf would really make him seem like a bigger, scarier freak around town. He's kind of missed the daily fear and detestation since he squeaked out of Ms. O'Donnell's class, and therefore, high school. Diploma clutched in his fist.

Either way. 

Dealing with a wolf is new territory. Very, very new. 

And a little more terrifying, his fantasy of keeping it as a badass pet notwithstanding. 

It's huge. Especially bathed in moonlight, looming overhead, where all Eddie can see is warm, golden eyes staring down at him, and a dark, pretty coat. The wolf is watching him, as if it's taking stock of Eddie's every move.

"Well, I'm gonna go my way, and you're gonna stay right there," Eddie says, holding his arm up, palm facing the big animal, and the wolf whines in a way that almost sounds like he's disagreeing petulantly with this command.

Eddie smiles, even if he's still a little terrified, "You don't want me to hang around. I'll cramp your style. Lay down." 

And the wolf starts to do just that. Big body folding down into itself. 

"That's a good boy. You're very pretty, you know?" Eddie asks. And it is a pretty animal. Lean muscle, wrapped in what he assumes is a heavy coat of soft fur. 

He'd like to pet him. 

That's how he'll die someday. Petting something he had no business touching. He's sure of it. 

And the wolf whimpers, laying down on the rock, resting his chin on its huge paws, still watching Eddie with those mesmerizing eyes. 

They almost glow out here in the moonlight. 

How fucking cool is that? An actual wolf. In the flesh, and not just written into a campaign. 

Eddie grins at him one more time, and then takes off in the direction he was headed in before he was interrupted by a huge fucking wolf.

Once he gets to Skull Rock, and sits down to wait, he hears the howl in the distance, and smiles. Hopefully the wolf doesn't have a pack hanging around that's less docile than he was.

He doesn't think about the wolf again, not much anyway, until the wolf shows up again, standing across the highway, right along the tree line, watching him. Eddie's putting three bucks in the van's gas tank, and it suddenly feels like he's been tracked here. Shit. Has he been tracked here? Does the wolf have his scent now? 

Eddie should ignore it, but he can't. He makes eye contact, and the wolf sits. Like he's waiting. Eddie goes in and pays, and when he comes out of the Fair Mart, he looks both ways, then jogs across the two lanes of worn asphalt.

The wolf is still there, sitting patiently, watching as Eddie struggles to unwrap the Slim Jim he bought for the animal for some stupid reason, not nearly scared enough that he's about to be mauled. 

Eddie isn't sure what to do now as he looks down at him. Does he throw it? Drop it? Hand feed him like he would a dog? 

"Hi. Me again. I probably wouldn't have seen you if it wasn't so bright out tonight," Eddie says, making one-sided small talk, nodding his head towards the big, full moon overhead.

And then Eddie holds out the meat stick, an offer.

The wolf makes eye contact, and then gently takes it from Eddie's fingers, like he's being careful and Eddie grins, "That's a good boy."

And the wolf looks right at him, tail lightly dancing around, as if he understood that. Maybe he just got the tone. Dogs are good at that, right? Maybe wolves are, too.

But it still unsettles Eddie, just a little. It's too human, and the fact that it's a full moon suddenly isn't lost on him. He gets the lore behind that. And it kickstarts his imagination. Thrusting it into overdrive. Was it a full moon last time? Eddie thinks maybe it was, as brightly lit as the woods had been, even late at night.

But, it can't be. That's absurd. He needs to just go. Accept this for what it was, just another experience in his long line of animal whispering.

He's got band practice to get to, anyway. They always expect he'll be late, but still. He should go.

"Okay, I gotta go," Eddie says, and then adds, "Stay out of the highway, it's dangerous." 

And he watches the wolf slink back into the trees, until he's gone from sight. 

Eddie tries to ignore the persistent feeling, the one pulling at his brain, but he's only able to ignore it until the next full moon, when the wolf is back, lurking near the trailer this time, as if this time he was able to track him home.

Eddie lives like six miles from the gas station. He doesn't know the range a wolf has, but that seems far. Especially figuring in the wolf also being out Skull Rock the first night. He's covering ground, that's for damn sure. 

The wolf comes right up to the dead patch of grass they call a lawn, and lays down, looking up at Eddie.

"Hi, again. I'm Eddie. And I think you're a werewolf," Eddie says, and the wolf whines, "Are you a werewolf? Are you a person?"

The wolf snuffles, and Eddie thinks that could be a yes. Or not. He doesn't exactly speak wolf. 

"Who are you?" Eddie asks, as if the wolf can tell him that. "Are you someone I know?"

He doesn't get an answer, but he leaves the porch and sits down on the ground, crossing his legs under him. Right in front of the relaxed animal. 

"Can I pet you?" 

And the wolf leans in his direction. Eddie takes that as a yes, and buries his hand in the wolf's scruff, scratching him, deep and thoroughly. 

His fur is rougher than Eddie had anticipated. But thick. Layers and layers of gorgeous, brown hair. 

And the wolf gets closer and closer until he's resting his chin on Eddie's knee, where he falls asleep. 

Eddie grins.

He has a pet wolf. 

Hot damn. 

And that cements the routine. A full moon is in the sky? Eddie has a temporary wolf pet. He feeds it, and pets it, and quickly finds out it loves to roughhouse. Launching itself at Eddie, taking him down to the dirt. Rolling him.

Butting at his head, his face, under his chin, licking him. 

The first time he did it startled the shit out of Eddie, but after that, it's been expected. Eddie laughs, and the wolf barks. At least, Eddie's calling it a bark. It isn't the same as a dog barking, but it feels similar in usage.

Eddie finds an old rope in Wayne's shed, and they play tug-of-war until Eddie's sure his hands will blister. But if the wolf wants to play, Eddie isn't gonna pass up the chance to play with a wolf. 

Eddie bought a pack of tennis balls at Melvald's, and sure enough, the wolf loves to chase them and bring them back to Eddie. A wolf that will play fetch. Who'd have thought?

It's probably because he's a human. Or half-dog. Eddie isn't sure. But, if he is a werewolf?

"Hey. Listen. If you are a person, and you do understand me, you could come find me, you know? On any of the other days that you aren't, you know, grrr," Eddie states, holding up his hands in monster fashion. 

The wolf whines, and Eddie lets it go. 

He's cool with just having a once a month wolf pal. It's honestly the best of both worlds. Exotic pet, but he doesn't even have to get a permit for it. Win-win.

The wolf howls. 

"Too loud," Eddie admonishes. 

And then it looks sad. Goddammit. 

"Turn around," Eddie commands, and the wolf does exactly that. Eddie throws him a treat.

"Sit," and he does. Another treat.

"Beg," and that's the limit, apparently, because those eyes are looking at him like he's a goddamn fool. Eddie laughs, and tosses him the piece of lunch meat anyway. He's still a good boy. Even if he won't beg.

They spend all night together, until the wolf inevitably departs before morning light.

That's okay, he'll see him next month.

But when the next full moon has illuminated the night sky, the wolf hasn't shown up. It's several hours after dark, and Eddie's concerned. He's never this late, and now Eddie doesn't know where to search. The woods near the Fair Mart? Near Skull Rock again, where he first saw him? 

He's not sure where his homebase is, his den, or whatever.

All Eddie knows is that it doesn't make sense. He wouldn't just not show up. Not after all this time. 

Something's wrong. And the pit grows in Eddie's stomach, gnawing away, the fear and preemptive sorrow of the impending loss.

He's just developing a battle plan, when he hears the familiar whimper and whine. And there he is, coming up out of the trees. He's hurt. Wet, and filthy. Limping, tail tucked between his legs. There's a deep bleeding gash across his forehead. Dried blood matted into its fur. 

Eddie panics, just for a second, then he scurries up the steps, holding open the trailer door. The wolf doesn't hesitate, just lumbers in, and flops down on the floor as if he can't go any further. 

"What happened to you?" Eddie asks, then realizes he's not gonna get an answer. 

Eddie's never brought him inside before, but he's doing it today. Eddie quickly shuts and locks the door behind them, as if whatever tore him up, might decide to, Eddie doesn't know, follow him inside? Unlikely. But still. Better safe than sorry.

"Stay right there," Eddie says, and the wolf huffs in a way that sounds almost sarcastic. Like, where else would I go, asshole?

Eddie smiles, and knows he's probably crazy. But still. It feels that way. This wolf, his wolf, seems funny. Can a wolf even be funny? Eddie isn't sure. But this one damn well is. 

Wayne's probably gonna notice all the shedded hair, dirt and blood, and wet dog smell, but tonight Eddie's not gonna worry about it.

Tonight, he's gonna try to help his buddy out.

He's covered in mud, and he smells like a lake. 

"You need a bath," Eddie declares and the wolf gets up and walks towards the bathroom like he agrees. 

Eddie laughs, "Okay. Here's the deal. We're gonna pretend you're just an animal, alright?" 

And the wolf stops in the doorway, Eddie tells him to come on, but he won't budge. Eddie tries to get a grasp on him to pull him along without hurting him, but it's fruitless. He's too strong. 

"Very funny," Eddie says, "your stubborn dog that doesn't want a bath impression is, well, impressive." 

The wolf thumps his tail and then comes right into the bathroom and carefully climbs up into the tub. 

Eddie sprays him down to get him wet, then looks at the shampoo options, "Well, I hope wolves are okay with Pert Plus 2-in-1." 

And the wolf honest to god growls, baring his sharp, white fangs, while giving Eddie the dirtiest look a wolf could muster. 

Eddie isn't scared, but he is amused. 

"Well, I'm so sorry, I don't have wolf shampoo. No Mane and Tail, here. Do you have a better idea, tough guy?" Eddie doesn't think rubbing him down with a bar of Irish Spring sounds any better.

But he watches as the wolf looks around the tub ledge, as if he's actually weighing the options, before he nudges a light-colored bottle off with his nose, sending it clattering around the slick tub, making a hell of a racket. 

Eddie retrieves it. Apple Pectin. He assumes it must belong to Wayne's lady friend. It certainly isn't his or Wayne's, that's for damn sure. 

"Alright, Mr. Fancy Pants. If you want your fur to smell like apples, that's on you." 

And with the decision made, Eddie cleans him up carefully. Lathering him up, rinsing him off. After he's finished, and has dried him off the best he can with a towel, the wolf noses around the cabinets, which is curious. What's he looking for? Then he pulls out the cord of a hair dryer, one that has a comb attached.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Eddie asks, picking up the dryer.

Eddie's never seen it in his life. Wayne has no hair, and Eddie's definitely not a blown dry kind of guy. Must be Wayne's girlfriend's. Hope she doesn't mind a little wolf fur stuck in the teeth, because the wolf's not kidding, and he sits, eyes closed, like he's enjoying the heat as Eddie combs him dry. Eddie's very careful not to get it too close to any of his wounds.

Afterwards, once he's soft and fluffier than Eddie's ever seen the pampered mutt, Eddie wraps anything still bleeding, then sits down and pats the couch cushion next to him. The wolf doesn't hesitate. Just jumps up letting out a soft growl that was surely pulled out of him by launching off his injured leg. 

"I know it must hurt," Eddie says, as he pets him gently. The wolf lays his head on Eddie's thigh, and whines pitifully. Then turns his head, like he's watching the muted television right along with Eddie. Eddie looks down at him by the only light in the darkened room, the flickering screen. 

Eddie falls asleep there, with the warm, heavy weight leaning against him. And when he wakes up, still hazy with sleep, he opens his eyes just enough to witness the wolf nudging at the lock with his nose, and then the door is open, the wolf is gone, and the only proof he was ever there is lightweight trailer door lightly banging from the early morning breeze.

After a few more hours of sleep, Eddie realizes there isn't much to eat in the house, and that means he's gonna have to finally do the grocery shopping he's been putting off before Wayne actually kills him. 

And later, as Eddie's coming out of the Big Buy, bags in hand, he nearly runs into Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, with a bandaged forehead and a slight limp. Smelling slightly of apple shampoo.

No fucking way.

Eddie's eyes widen.

"It's not what you think," Steve immediately says, which is suspicious. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. 

"Okay. It's exactly what you think," Steve says, folding like a cheap suit.

And Eddie laughs, all his teeth showing, fucking thrilled by this turn of events. Steve Harrington. Eddie wouldn't have guessed him if given a million tries.

"Steve Harrington is my pretty, pet wolf," Eddie crows. 

Steve snorts, "I'm not your pet, Munson." 

"All the lap sitting says otherwise." 

"I've never sat on your lap!" 

"You would if you could, big boy," Eddie teases.

And Steve gives him just a hint of a grin, "Yeah, yeah. Um, you're not gonna tell anyone else about this, right?" Steve asks, looking at the blacktop of the parking lot, "Because if I need a head start outta town, just say so."

"From one freak to another, nope. I didn't see anything."

Steve smiles, "Thanks. Because I'm not exactly broadcasting this information." 

Eddie makes a move as if he's locking his lips, and then he throws away the imaginary key. 

They go their separate ways, and Eddie assumes that's the last he'll see of the wolf, and probably Steve Harrington, too.

And he can't help but be a little sad about it.

Eddie tries to distract himself. But his mind keeps telling himself that Steve Harrington, wolf or not, isn't gonna come hang out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson again now that Eddie knows who he is under all that fur. And Eddie hates it.

He's playing penny can with Gareth outside the house, taking turns tossing the coins from the step into an old coffee can, under the light of the full moon, when he feels eyes on him. 

Looking to the right, standing just around the edge of the trailer, is Steve peeking in their direction.

"Hey, you're here! C'mon, boy!" Eddie calls out, lighting up at the sight of him, and Steve rounds the corner like a happy dog. Tail flicking around nearly in circles as he prances, bopping around as he comes towards Eddie.

"That's…that's a wolf!" Gareth shouts, scooting backwards.

"Calm down, he's my friend, aren't you?" Eddie asks, and Steve pounces up on him, paws on Eddie's shoulders, licking his face.

"Whoa, hey there, it's good to see you, too," Eddie laughs, trying to get him to calm down. 

"You have a pet wolf?! Since when?" Gareth screeches.

"Sssh, do you want Mrs. Wilson from down the way sticking her nose into our business?" Eddie asks, then reiterates, "And I said he's my friend, not my pet." 

"You can't be friends with a wolf, Eddie, that's crazy, even for you," Gareth insists, and Steve raises his head and growls, just a little.

Gareth clambers up and into the safety of the trailer, and Eddie laughs, looking down at Steve's warm eyes. He gets it now. Can totally see that these eyes are similar to Steve Harrington's, "That's not nice, you know. Picking on the little scaredy cat. It's like something you'd see in, I don't know, high school."

And the wolf whines.

"Hey! I'm not a scaredy cat! That's a goddamn wolf! I'm just smarter than you!" Gareth yells through the door, and Eddie laughs.

Steve snuffles, and lays his head on Eddie's thigh. His rowdy greeting apparently over with, content to let Eddie pet him.

Eddie strokes him gently, and whispers, "I'm glad you came back."

Gareth is still watching from behind the glass, and Eddie tilts his head far enough back to see him, "Look at him? He's a sweetheart. He won't hurt you. Come back out here."

And Gareth does, but he's still clearly leery of this whole situation. But he sits back down, eventually asking, "Can I pet him?"

"I don't know, you better ask him," Eddie says, because it's definitely not his place to let anyone else manhandle Steve if he doesn't want to be touched by them.

But Steve stretches his head over, indicating that he'd be open to this additional petting.

"It's almost like he understands us," Gareth says.

"He's a smart boy for sure," Eddie answers, scratching Steve behind the ear, before patting him on the butt. 

Steve whips his head around and nips at Eddie's hand, then licks it, "Okay, okay, no butt pats. You're not a cat. Got it. Sorry."

"Does he have a name?" Gareth asks.

Eddie doesn't miss a beat, "Harry." 

"Well, that's original," Gareth snarks, but Eddie doesn't care. He's not giving Steve Harrington a dog name. And he can't exactly call him Harrington. That'd raise questions Eddie's not prepared to answer.

"Well, he is hairy, ain't he?" Eddie asks, and Gareth can't help but nod, and it pleases Eddie.

Wolf Steve hangs with them all night, until morning threatens to peek over the horizon, and then he slinks away into the pre-dawn light to presumably turn back into a real boy.

"You're friends with a freakin' wolf. Like you're Snow White or some bullshit," Gareth whispers, and he sounds a little awed as they watch the wolf go.

Hell, Eddie's awed, too.

And Eddie's gonna miss him. One night a month isn't enough.

But he'll just have to wait. Eddie can be patient. 

Maybe.

He doesn't have to be patient for long. The next night while Eddie is stretched out on the couch, there's a knock at the front door. When he answers it, there's Steve Harrington, in full human form, looking back at him.

"Harrington," Eddie greets, but Steve's not beating around the bush.

"So, about those butt pats," he says, and Eddie throws his head back and laughs as he opens the door even wider. An invitation.

Was that a pick-up line? If so, at least it was original.

Steve can't be serious. 

But Steve crosses the threshold, and two can play at this game. He'll play chicken with Steve on this, so Eddie jerks his head to the right, "Bedroom's back there, big boy."

Steve doesn't hesitate, he steps towards him, and starts corralling him towards the back of the trailer, through the kitchen, applying pressure, guiding, without even touching him, somehow. 

And as he does it, he's shedding clothes. Confident in a way Eddie could never dream of being.

Holy shit. Steve Harrington is really getting naked, as he's backing Eddie's towards his bedroom.

Eddie pedals backwards, just watching, letting Steve encroach on his personal space, and then, his bedroom.

Eddie wonders if being a wolf just makes you more open, more free.

He's not sure, but he scurries along backwards, and once they're both in the bedroom, Steve kicks the door closed behind them. Eddie tugs his shirt over his head, trying to catch up before Steve changes his mind.

Then Eddie pauses:

"If you bite me, will I become a wolf?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "I'm not going to bite you."

Eddie pauses, "Well, what if I bite you?"

"Why would you bite me?" Steve asks, a confused wrinkle forming across his forehead. 

"I mean…" Eddie trails off, nodding towards the bed. 

"Don't make me regret this decision, Munson," Steve says dryly, but he's amused. Eddie can see it in his eyes. 

Eddie isn't sure why Steve made this decision at all. 

"Why are you here, for this, with me anyway?" Eddie asks. He needs to know. They've barely spoken to each other since high school. As far as Eddie knows, Steve only fucks girls. But now he's here, like he owns the place, corralling Eddie to bed?

He's having trouble processing all this new information at once. Eddie's friends with the wolf version of Steve, sure, but he wouldn't say the same for human Steve Harrington.

"Because I've realized I like you. Because you were nice to me, in wolf form. You weren't scared-"

"I was scared shitless!" Eddie interrupts, and Steve laughs.

"For like the first second. After that you were pretty fucking cool about a wolf all up in your face. Don't lie."

"Well…"

"Well, nothing," Steve snips, then his voice softens, "You understood what I most likely was and didn't care. Even if you didn't know who I was, you were pretty fucking chill about me coming to hang out."

Eddie nods. That's true, he didn't care. He'd made a friend, as wolf-shaped as it was. 

"You gave me a bath."

"Hey! I thought we agreed you were just an animal during that," Eddie argues.

Steve smiles.

"Before you, the full moons were lonely. And I dreaded them. But you changed that," Steve explains further, "And after we bumped into each other at the grocery store, I was fucking mad, man. Like, running into you, having you find out that way, it felt like it was the end of something I really looked forward to every month. But then I never heard even a whisper of a rumor that you'd told anyone what you'd figured out."

"I haven't told anyone. Didn't especially think they'd believe me if I did," Eddie laughs. But honestly, it never crossed his mind to gossip. The wolf had been good to him, and he figured it was the least he could do to be nice back.

Tit for tat, as it goes.

For Steve Harrington, or anyone else.

"And I'm grateful. I think it's just me around here," Steve says, "I never see any other wolves." 

"How'd you become a werewolf, if there's no other werewolves around? That doesn't make a lick of sense," Eddie asks.

"It was a Russian torture drug that turned me. When the mall burned down? I wasn't bitten by anything."

"No shit?" Eddie asks. He's heard rumors of what actually happened at the mall, picked up and filed away snippets of information the sheepies have dropped in his presence without realizing it, but he's never heard about Russian torture.

Steve nods. 

"I don't know if they did it on purpose or not. Robin didn't have it happen to her. Just me. So, before you found me, I was just lone wolfing it during full moons, and hoping everything went okay. Robin hated that I was all alone, but it was what it was. Then, I found you."

Eddie nods, and looks at Steve, chest full of hair. He didn't have that in high school, as far as Eddie remembers.

"Side effect?" he asks, pointing to his chest. 

"Yeah, a little. I mean, I wasn't bald or anything before, but it's sure filled out. Age or wolf, I don't really know."

Steve Harrington really turns into a freakin' wolf. 

Eddie reaches forward and combs his fingers through Steve's chest hair, and Steve tilts his head back, and whines. 

Oh fuck. Eddie's done for. This is it. The end of him.

It's familiar, and different, all at once. It's Steve.

Eddie's dick is so goddamn hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans, but all he wants is for Steve to keep making those noises. 

He'll let Steve fuck him. Hell yes, he will. He'll roll over like, well, a fucking wolf, he supposes. Bare his neck. Get mounted. Claimed. Whatever Steve wants, needs.

Only, that's not what happens. His daydreaming was a little bit off, as Steve flops on Eddie's bed, naked, legs spread open. Hand on his hard cock, stroking it as he watches Eddie. 

Eddie isn't even sure where to look. Steve's hairy thighs, his hairier chest, the aforementioned gorgeous cock now laying heavy against Steve's belly. Or his very obviously glistening hole.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, asking, "you want me to, you know?" 

Steve laughs, and Eddie isn't even sure where it comes from, but Steve's flicking a condom Eddie's way. Eddie bumbles it a bit, but catches it in two hands.

Okay, okay. Shit. He can do this. 

Steve wants him to do this?

"You don't, like, want me to submit to you?" Eddie asks, undoing his belt buckle, eyes trained on Steve's. He would. 

Steve laughs, "Not really. I want this."

"Okay," Eddie says, "cool. That's cool."

"Cool," Steve repeats, mocking him a little bit as Eddie's jeans hit the ground, like he can't help but be amused by Eddie. And Eddie likes that.

Eddie crawls on the bed, and slides one hand into Steve's hair, pulling back a little, and Steve whimpers. He leans down and presses his lips to Steve's, kissing him for the first time and eventually Steve opens his mouth, breathing into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie pulls back, "That's a good boy."

And Steve's dick jumps against Eddie's belly, leaking precum between them as he whines, and oh, he's a good boy, indeed.

Eddie takes his hand from Steve's hair, and slides it down his body, bypassing his cock, grazing his thigh instead, before sliding to the inside, and down, under his balls, fingers brushing against Steve's already slick hole. Eddie slides one finger in, then two, and three, and realizes Steve wasn't fucking around. He's gotten himself ready. For Eddie.

Goddamn.

Rolling the condom down his own cock, Eddie thinks his hands are trembling. He can't believe this is happening.

"Hey," Steve says, leaning up onto his elbows, "look at me."

And Eddie does.

"We don't have to do this. If this isn't what you wan-"

"It is," Eddie interrupts, "fuck, it definitely is."

"Okay then," Steve answers, laying back again, and then he slides one foot along the bedding, dragging it upwards, until his knee is bent. He's fucking gorgeous, and confident, and for whatever reason, wants Eddie. It's. It's, yeah. "Whenever you're ready."

Eddie's ready now, and he slots himself between Steve's thighs, lifting him up a little as he lines up and presses inside, deeper and deeper until he's bottomed out. 

His dick is in Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington is his wolf.

Steve whines, and Eddie takes the cue, and starts fucking him in earnest. Cock sliding in and nearly out easily, his balls slapping against Steve's skin with every rough thrust as he builds up a rhythm. 

He's fucking Steve Harrington, and Steve Harrington is liking it by the sounds he's making. By his actions. 

Fingers digging into Eddie's shoulders, his back, his ass, spurring him on.

It's not gonna last long. Eddie's too overstimulated by everything that's happened, and might happen again, in the future. 

He wraps his fist around Steve's dick, wanting to get him off first, and as soon as Steve comes all over his own hairy belly, Eddie slams back into him, chasing his own orgasm. Coming inside him, filling the condom, with a long groan.

Eddie never wants to leave, but he eventually pulls out, and gets up to dispose of the condom. He grabs his shirt and wipes Steve's stomach halfway clean, and then stands there, unsure what comes next. 

Is Steve gonna go? Gonna stay?

Stay apparently, because Steve opens his arm, and Eddie crawls into bed, sliding up against him. Sweat-slick bodies slotting together until they find a comfortable position. 

Laying with him, the afterglow making his mind fuzzy, Eddie wonders if wolves mate for life. 

He sure fucking hopes so.

When the next full moon fills the night sky, Eddie borrows Uncle Wayne's truck, and holds open the passenger door for his wolfie, watching as Steve easily hops in. Eddie rolls down the window with the hand crank, since Steve can't do it for himself in wolf form, and then goes around and slides into the driver's seat.

Enrichment, that's the plan. Steve doesn't need to spend all of his full moons cooped up in the trailer. He needs to be free. Wild. Run around. Feel the wind blow through his fur, or whatever. Eddie doesn't want to tame him, only love him.

So, Eddie takes him out into the country, driving the winding dirt backroads, until he finds a wide-open space, a field where Steve can run. Eddie runs with him, not nearly able to keep up with his speed, and once Eddie's quickly worn out, he sits down in the soft grass, intent to keep watching.

But Steve runs up and nudges Eddie under the chin with his snout, rubbing all over him, and Eddie lets him do it, Eddie eventually collapsing onto his back. Then, Steve crawls on top of him, the heavy weight of the wolf pushing him into the ground below. Eddie feels Steve's stomach growl against him, and he knows they'll meet Robin for breakfast in the morning, where Steve will absolutely decimate a huge stack of pancakes and anything else from their plates that he can get his hands on.

Wolfing makes his boyfriend hungry. And Eddie chuckles: boyfriend. Steve Harrington is his boyfriend.

And his wolf, who is currently licking Eddie's face, making him squirm and laugh harder as Eddie scritches the back of Steve's neck.

He's a good boy, Eddie's good boy, somehow.

And once Steve's tired himself out, Eddie loads him up into the truck, grinning as they head back to town. Glancing between the open stretch of road before him, and Steve beside him, hanging his head out of the open window, howling at the moon.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, pop over to @steddie-spooktober and follow along with the spooky fun! 🐺

Notes: Title is from the Metallica song of the same name. Pert Plus 2-in-1 came out in 1987, so I guess it's at least 1987 here, lol. Apple Pectin was a real shampoo. It was discontinued. RIP, Apple Pectin. I haven't actually smelled you in thirty years, but your scent is still seared into my brain.

[midnightanxietytm]

I have a silly idea :3

imagine Mabel recounting the “accident with the leaf blower” to the reader, who then proceeds to make sure Ford isn’t around and tells her about the “kissing practice robot” incident from high school (which they witnessed) if you don’t know what I mean watch the land before swine commentary video

meanwhile Ford is down in the basement and suddenly stops what he’s doing and is like “I feel a disturbance in the force.”

A/N: Oh my god the kissing bot is so iconic, Ford is such a dork for that one lol. Hope I met your expectations with this one , its been a while since I've written something more lighthearted. Thanks for the request!

Contents: Mabel and Reader spilling tea, talks about kissing and romance and other sappy things. Ford x Reader more implied than anything. Short and fun.

Word count: 500

You know something is wrong because Mabel isn't smiling, Mabel is always smiling. She walks through the gift shop door and goes straight to sit on the counter next to you with a big sigh.

“Alright, spill it, sunshine.” You say with a small smile, putting down the book you'd been reading in order to give her your full attention.

She looks up at you with big round eyes. “I dunno… The date went well, he even kissed me!” You gasp in pretend shock and that gets a small giggle out of her. “I know right?! But like… It felt weird! It wasn’t bad! Just weird… maybe I need more practice…”

That makes you laugh as you prop yourself near the checkout; “Mabel, darling, kissing isn't really some equation you can figure out, maybe he just wasn't the right person.”

She lets out another big sigh, but you can tell is more resigned and hopefull this time. “Yeah, I guess… Besides, I really don't want another leaf blower accident.”

You laugh again, Mabel has that charm. “The what accident now?”

“Oh my gosh, I never told you?! It's so embarrassing; I was obsessed with that boy, who turned out to be a bunch of gnomes by the way, and I wanted our first kiss to be perfect, so I stuck a photo of him on a leaf blower on suction made and used it to practice.” When she said that, both of you started to laugh so hard tears formed in your eyes. “I-t left like this huge bruise on my face!”

You lean your head on the table, trying to stop laughing, but the mental image of Mabel with a leaf blower stuck to her face is too much.

“Oh gosh you're just like your grunkle!” You say in-between wheezing.

“Wait which one?” Mabel asked, rubbing the tears off her eyes.

“Okay so…” You began, looking around just to check Ford wasn’t near. “Your Grunkle Ford, back in high school he built this robot…” You look around again, holding back laughter and bringing down your voice. “It was this mannequin head with a rubix cube for a mouth and it had an alarm that wouldn’t stop playing until he…” And you did quotation marks with your hands. “...kissed it right.”

And you both started laughing all over again. “That's so dorky oh my gosh!”.

“Right!? He's such a nerd.” You say, and there's a softness to it that eases Mabel's worries about romance all together. “It fell from his locker once and it started blasting the darn alarm! He couldn’t go anywhere for a week after that without people mimicking kissing noises. It was gross.” You chuckle and sigh, sitting back down on your stool. “Compared to that, a leaf blower is no big deal!”

“Compared to what?” Says a third voice.

You and Mabel snap your heads, seeing Ford standing on the doorway behind the vending machine.

Crap.

[speakergame]

Progress Update - 3/4/24

Hello and happy March!

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? 😅 Well, I finally have some good news for you this time: I have some actual news!

I'm happy to be able to announce at last that an update is on its way! I’ve still got some assets to make and code cleanup and testing to finish, but I should finally have something to show you soon.

I’ll put a cut at the end of this and go into more detail about the what and why of what I’ve been working on during this long and unintended hiatus, but the tl;dr is that I hope to have an update out by the end of the month, and that said update will break any saves made in Chapter 4. Unfortunate, but unavoidable, since Chapter 4 had to be recoded from the beginning 😞

I just want to thank all of you once again for sticking with me through my extended silence! Especially to my patrons who’ve put up with me putting everything on pause month after month while I dealt with my real life shit, and to everyone who’s sent me kind and supportive messages to let me know Speaker hasn’t been forgotten. It really means a lot to me.

Okay, enough of that sappy shit! I’m gonna get back to work finishing this up 😁 I’ll put out another update later this month once I have a more definite release date.

Thank you all for reading! I hope you’re having a fantastic 2024 so far, and that the rest of the week treats you kindly. See y’all soon! 💙💙💙

(For those who want a more detailed breakdown on what’s been happening and what to expect, hit the readmore)

I won’t go into the personal life stuff I’ve been dealing with this past year that has slowed down my work, but as far as the actual game goes: 

To put it simply, I just wasn’t happy with it. Some of it could be because of how many times I had to reread the same section while I was coding the scenes that would’ve taken place after the last update, but no matter how much I edited or rearranged it, I didn’t like how that scene turned out. There was something… formulaic that had been happening with the way I always laid out scenes, and a bit of stagnation in the story, character, and relationship development that bothered me.

So I rewrote it. And when I still didn’t like it, I rewrote it again. And I still didn’t like it. I thought about scrapping the whole thing on more than one occasion as I struggled to get out of the corner I’d written myself into.

Inspiration finally struck at the beginning of this year, thanks in part to another interactive novel I follow, and I really like the direction I’ve taken it now. 

Instead of the RO split scenes happening where the last one left off, Speaker, Seer, and Gavin are gonna have a chat about Things™ to move the next story arc forward. Then Speaker will get some downtime, by themself at first and then in an extended scene split with the RO of their choosing. 

All the Big Plot Things that were going to happen in Chapter 4 will be moved to Chapter 5 instead, and 4 will be a bit more of a filler episode. A deep breath before the plunge, as it were.

This split won’t just be a quick conversation/reaction from the RO, but a full on different direction for the rest of the chapter based on who you choose. Most of them will involve leaving the house; all of them will involve actual one-on-one time (or one-on-two time, as the case may be) away from the others. And though romance isn’t required, all of them will have the potential to really move the romance forward if you so choose. One or two might even have a lock-in choice (maybe. I’m not 100 percent on that, so don’t hold me to it) 

These scenes won’t be in the next update, because they’re all very complex, but the update will definitely have the Seer chat and at least some of the by-yourself stuff. The update after will have the rest of the alone time stuff (including the clothes/body CC you’ve all been waiting for), and then the one after will start the RO scenes. I think.

I may actually split the RO scenes into separate updates, and let my darlings over at Patreon vote for the order they’re released. That way I can focus on one at a time instead of trying to split my attention six ways at once.

Okay, that’s enough rambling for me today. Time to get back to work! Still got a lot to get done before this is ready, but it’s so close now.

[woofs-silly-ships]

Oh. Oh holy hell

HEAVY WARNING FOR THE HAZBIN LEAKS. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT BE MAD AT ME IF YOU WILLINGLY CLICK ON THIS AND GET SPOILED.

Tw: Mentions of Poison/Angel Dust’s abuse, Aphobia (from Viv and Hazbin, not me. Frick Aphobes or any kind of queerphobe /srs)

This is almost certainly real and that makes me

I think I feel worse than when the Poison leaks happened

And that was bad

Yet I think this might be worse… because at least some survivors do relate to and find comfort in Poison and Angel as a whole. At least people knew he was suffering from and dealing with this abuse. This… people couldn’t have seen this coming.

Alastor and Rosie’s relationship was one of the few actually well written ones in this freaking show. And they just screwed it the hell up

Alastor being owned by/selling his soul to Lilith made so much sense. Of course Lilith would care about his child’s dream, of course she would hide him away in heaven after a (likely) bad fight with Vox, of course if he was in heaven nobody could find him, of course he’d be so fearful of the literal Queen of hell.

If Alastor is owned by Rosie, why the hell would he actually be genuinely comfortable around her as shown in season one? Rosie wouldn’t give a shit about the hotel as well, I’m sorry but like huh??? She has 0 relation to the founders or guests besides Al??? Also there’s no freaking way that Rosie would be able to hide Alastor IN HELL FOR 7 FREAKING YEARS AND AVOID ALL DETECTION. If Vox’s cameras didn’t catch him in a HEAVILY POPULATED TOWN, there’s literally no way some random diner didn’t catch a glimpse of him or something??? And Al is probably on the level below Rosie power wise, there’s no way he wouldn’t have rebelled at some point, even if he lost???

But yeah, I’m beating around the bush here. Elephant in the room time.

The whole song and animation and everything leans WAYYYY too into the aspect of Alastor being Rosie’s pet, and that creeps me out so much. Because it again feels fetishized. Way too reminiscent of pet play and such, which I already don’t like on its own but I’m not getting into that. I wouldn’t even have an issue with it if

1. Rosie was portrayed as an actual big bad and not “secretly silly”, same issue as Val

2. ALASTOR WASNT FREAKING ASEXUAL. AND ROSIE WAS LITERALLY THE ONE TO CONFIRM THAT IN CANON (the “ace in the hole” scene was one of my favorites and now it’s ruined for me. Of course.)

I know k!nky asexuals exist and are completely valid and yall are awesome, and I’d be fine seeing that represented if, you know, ALASTOR WASNT SHOWN TO BE FREAKING SEX REPULSED?? HAVE WE FORGOTTEN ABOUT THE FREAKING

^^^ THIS???

AND GOING BACK TO WHAT I SAID BEFORE: AT LEAST SURVIVORS WHO RELATE TO ANGEL KNEW THAT HE WAS A VICTIM LONG BEFORE THE RELEASE OF POISON AND S1. MANY FELT BETRAYED BY IT AND THATS VERY VERY VALID, BUT IT COULD HAVE BEEN FAR WORSE (as in, Addict could’ve never existed, Angel fans including survivors could’ve had no idea of what he was going through before being thrown into the mess that is Poison). THERE WAS ABSOLUTELY NO FORESHADOWING OF THIS WITH ALASTOR. IVE SEEN SO MANY ASEXUALS LOVE AND RELATE TO AL AND TAKE WHAT LITTLE REPRESENTATION THEY GET IN STRIDE, AND IM SO SCARED TO SEE THEM DEAL WITH THE FETISHIZATION OF THEIR SEXUALITY. THAT WILL HURT ME MORE THAN WHATEVER THE PLOT DOES. IF YOU ARE ASEXUAL AND RELATE TO AL THEN I AM SO FREAKING SORRY FOR YOU, ESPECIALLY IF THIS ENDS UP HURTING YOU AS MUCH AS IT DOES ME /GEN

ALSO, APPARENTLY VIV IS DOUBLJNG DOWN FROM POISON BECAUSE THERE’S SOME CHEERY UPBEAT AH MUSIC BEING SUNG ABOUT ALASTOR BASICALLY BEING CHAINED AND ABUSED FOR THE MAJORITY OF HIS AFTERLIFE AND ALSO BASICALLY BEING SHOVED INTO A PET-PLAY KINK LIKE THING AS AN UNWILLING AND UNCOMFORTABLE (AND ASEXUAL) PARTICIPANT

Urghhh, I’m sorry I just really needed to get that out. Posting this on my selfship blog since it’s more contained and I have 2 Hazbin f/os anyway

Since I’m here anyway, yeah my Hellaverse AU won’t have any of this crap. Alastor will be owned by either Lilith or Roo, whichever one makes more sense when S2 comes out and we see more of Lilith and see if Roo was scrapped or not. Right now he’s owned by Lilith in the AU and his relationship with Rosie is exactly like in S1: genuine and comfortable. I’m sorry but I’m not letting Vic’s awful plot direction here ruin one of the few good relationships in the show.

And I’m sorry if any of this is exaggerated by accident, I’m just, er, very passionate about minorities being disrespected this badly and this is kinda just me dumping my thoughts and rage into writing /gen

On a small but light note, the other clip is actually really cool!! Makes sense for Heaven to have Goitia as well as Hell, and as long as this bird doesn’t turn out Stolas then I’m pretty happy with this :D

[the-s1lly-corner]

tadc cast with a s/o who hates touch.

BUT when they finally get comfortable with the characters they get soooo touchy (as in hugs ,hand holding etc)

Sorry if i didnt make myself clear

And thank you for your work!! ;)

TADC cast x reader who's warming up to touch!

So sorry for taking so long to get to this anon <\3!! I recently went back to writing on mobile due to back pain from sitting at my computer and it's really done a number on my efficiency <\3

That said I hope you enjoy!

Side note does anyone know any tips on how to soothe sore throats? Preferably not with honey because honey naoes my throat swell and itch 😭😭

This post ended up being waaaaaay longer than I first intended so I hope yall are ready to eat up

LAST MINUTE NOTE I misread/misinterpreted this as "reader finally taking a step towards initiating affection for the first time" and not "they're already comfortable and LOVE touch" I am so so dumb but I already have this written <\3 I hope you enjoy this regardless anon 😭😭😭

CAINE:

I think Caine would struggle with the no touching thing especially since I see him being very affectionate both verbally and physically. That said I do think he eventually gets the hang of it and stops himself from throwing his arms around you for a hug... he amps up the verbal affirmations to make up for it though! He doesnt wanna make you unhappy so hes gonna respect your boundaries and take things slow!

As for when you start easing yourself into it, I think he would try to not make a big deal out of it, as not to risk embarrassing you. As someone who doesnt like touch as well as being hesitant to initiate it, I think I wouldnt want a big hoorah about it you know? But that's just me

He does subtly know hes proud of you for being able to take that step, even if you two are only holding hands via linking your pinkies together

POMNI:

I dont think pomni would be crazy about touch imo, she seems like the type to seize up when you touch her without warning. And I'm not saying that as something to be ashamed of because honestly me too. So I think this is one where you both need to have heavy communication in order to push past that and get used to touching one another ! Team work makes the dream work or however the saying goes

That said imagine you two grab each others hands bc something startles you/you both run from something (be it a prank from jax or an IHA or an abstracted) and you both just

Stare down at your interlocked hands. Experimentally squeezing each other before both relaxing into it

I think that would be a cute idea

RAGATHA:

Just like caine she is so so understanding. But unlike caine, she doesnt struggle all that much with trying go restrain from giving you physical affection. Ragatha naturally shows her love through quality time and gift giving, so she doesnt often feel the urge to wrap her arms around you, much less unprompted. Especially with your discomfort in mind

In the event that you come over to her, maybe lay your head on her shoulder while shes reading, I think she would stiffen up a little out of surprise, before gently leaning her heads against yours. Its nice, its quiet, and its comfortable. You two both peacefully exist like that for a while... good thing you guys probably dont have organs because ragathas heart would be pounding so fast, shes just so proud of you that the adrenaline kind of gets to her

JAX:

I think this might be the main one where there may be conflict.

Not because jax belittles your discomfort or tries to push the boundaries. No, I dont think he would, especially when you two get serious. Like would he probably poke you in the beginning before realizing it genuinely brings great discomfort? Yes. Would he stop when he finds out it's an issue for you? Also yes. Again, hes an asshole but I dont think he would be outright ab*sive

No, the reason why I think kay there may be conflict is because behind closed doors, jax can be very clingy and physically touchy, he would want to lay on top of you and hold you and that kind of stuff. That one ask with clingy jax hcs changed me

I think, if you ever try to initiate touch first he would say something kind of mean before he can stop himself. "About time" or something. Like he means it lightheartedly but like. He immediately regrets it, especially since that can just be so... eidkcmc.. when you're trying to come out of your shell in regards to something

Easily has the worst reaction, make him sleep on the metaphorical couch

I think he would do anything to fix that though, you're his lil bun afterall

KINGER:

Kinger is big on touch, he likes handholding and putting his hand on your shoulder. But ultimately he would respect you and not touch you.. honestly kinger can be the same way depending on the day. Either he hates touch and doesnt want anyone or anything touching him, or he needs to be held in order to keep his mind set straight. Poor guy. He just like me frfr.

Honestly gets a little spooked when you gently set your head on his lap, announcing you're going to take a nap while you two hang out in the pillow fort. Kind of gives a soft and surprised "oh!" Before going as still as a statue. Does he stay put? Does he run his hand through your hair? Does he keep up his bug ramble? Does he pipe down?

Ultimately he sits there quietly while you sleep

Expects that to be a one time thing, but he notices you're slowly becoming more physically affectionate. He outwardly shows his support and pride for you

ZOOBLE:

Another one who doesnt really like touch, but instead of it being a discomfort it's just a "I dont like it" thing you know? I mean what did you expect? Zooble doesnt interact much with people unless they're forced to, so it makes sense that touch isnt their thing. So this actually works out very well for you two.

Just like the pomni segment, you guys are going to have to do a lot of communication in regards to introducing stuff like cuddling and hand holding ect into the relationship and finding what works for you while keeping both parties satisfied. I think in the end zooble would be supportive, and even try to esse themselves into the whole thing. So you dont have to do it alone, you know?

GANGLE:

Honestly I think shes too shy and/or unconfident to initiate physical affection herself so the topic never really came up. Which... is a bit odd since it regards a comfort thing for you as well as gangle possibly thinking that you dont enjoy her company; assuming you never really tell her that touch brings you discomfort

But because we love healthy stuff here, let's assume you guys set down boundaries and stuff before getting together

I still think gangle would have some teeny tiny feeling that they arent the best for you. She knows its unfair to think that for both of you, but like. Its one of those nagging mean voices we all have/get at some point, you know?

Probably lets out a little squeak when you slowly wrap one of her arms around your hand and wrist. Kind of just stands there frozen. Too scared to speak up or move, fearing she would ruin the moment

Honestly I think gangle isnt used to touch (that isnt neutral or in passing), so this is going to be a little experience for her. You're both in this together now, basically

[rabbitsrams]

Thinking about schlatt x reader who’s love language is gift receiving and gift giving, whose last relationship they never received any gifts and slowly over time stopped giving them as well, completely caught off guard the first time schlatt decides to spoil her.

omg anon i love this sm

i'm def a person who gets so flustered and sentimental if someone gets me a gift and i also LOVE giving gifts too :((((

and i've had my fair share of having my gifts be unappreciated by a partner as well...

in your group of friends, you were absolutely known for gifting the most random things to those you love. whether it be something as simple as a knick-knack from the pharmacy to something super elaborate and pricey, if you saw anything that reminded you of someone you loved, you'd get it for them.

and on the other side of the coin, you loved receiving gifts as well. you always eagerly anticipated your birthday and the holiday season to see what your loved ones got you, and with every gift you were always so happy and appreciative.

your ex never really liked the idea of giving and receiving gifts. birthdays and the holidays, yeah, that was standard. but it was often minimal with little effort being put in, and if you got them a random little gift, it was not met with the reaction you expected.

them saying "oh, thanks!" in that tone. then tossing the object aside and never looking at it again.

the last straw was when you put six months into creating a scrapbook for your one-year anniversary. the scrapbook wherein you had pictures of the two of you, old things from various dates and lots of hand-written captions, was met with one "wow!" one instance where you looked through it together and it sitting on a shelf till the end of your relationship half a year later.

and from that point on, your gift-giving halted aside from the basics on birthdays and holidays. the effort started to decrease as time went on, because never had you felt this unappreciated, much less from a partner. and it was unfortunate that your loved ones had to endure this; they missed getting little things from you and were saddened that you were so unappreciated by that... person.

schlatt was like a breath of fresh air for you. he was kind, he was genuine and he loved you for every reason out there.

you had told him about the incidents with your ex. and he noticed how upset you got when you said it, trying to pass it off as not a big deal but he could tell. he could tell how that piece of shit hurt you.

schlatt called you up in the early hours of the morning, telling you to get up and get ready.

"why? i have work!"

"call in sick, toots. we're going to the mall."

"w-why?"

"'cause you deserve it. no more questions." and he hung up before you could process what happened.

and he went into every store with you, buying you anything you so much as eyed for an extra second.

"baby, why are you doing this? i... i don't-"

"don't you dare. you do deserve it, and that asshole was so wrong for not appreciating you."

your eyes well up with tears and you hug schlatt tightly. he hugs you back, cradling your head with his hand as he kisses you.

and the next morning, schlatt woke up to a little stuffed ram on his pillow, a note stuck to its head saying:

"thanks for yesterday, you're the best, i love you."

and that little ram sits right next to the picture of the two of you he has on his desk where he can look at it every day and smile, because you got it for him.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEE WRITE SOMETHING WITH TOUCH STARVED WINTER SOLDIER AND MALE HANDLER READER (or stevie, whatever floats ur boat) I AM DESPERATEEEE

I've kind of written something with touch starved, early-deprogramming Bucky and Steve--"Don't Forget To Remember Me"--so, I'll go ahead with the x-reader part of this prompt here!

Mentions of HYDRA cruelty below the cut, nothing exactly "on screen." This is mostly angsty fluff, actually.

You aren't sure when it began because no matter how deeply you scrub your mind for clues, shifting through the heavy rubble of your time with "S.H.I.E.LD" going from a regular recruit to being drug into the ugly underbelly with the grimy cockroaches of HYDRA, there isn't a clear path. Perhaps it started when you were assigned the joke grunt work of waxing the asset's chest (x). Or, maybe, it really started after you had been shown to do a satisfactory enough job at stripping the asset to naked flesh, so then you were assigned to deal with the knots that had developed at the back of the asset's neck. Told to rip a wide tooth comb through its mane as the thought occurred to you that, huh, it felt a lot like when you used to have to do this for your younger sisters after a summer of wild, young shenanigans. Hollering at the top of your lungs late into the hot evenings. Swimming for hours in pools and lakes and any bodies of water you could get yourselves to, almost always with wrinkled fingertips, baths or oceans or anything just to feel the cool lapping water. Playing chase, flying out the doors of the house when your parents had finally had enough of bulls in their china shop. Running through fields into forests, racing to climbing trees and hopefully not tumble out of them and end up in a cast (again). Summers with the weather too nice and the sun staying suspended in the sky for hours, so you were too busy for silly things like brushing hair. You were only saved by the fact that your mother insisted on buzzing your hair to the scalp for summers, no need to brush that. Your sisters didn't have the luxury.

It's kind of like those times with your sisters--raking a comb through the soldier's unkept hair.

Once, with late, mature summer bleeding into gestating fall, the colors fading and muddling, you found your sisters hair had become too tangled to undo, so you complained, and your parents had made her get her hair cut. She balled her eyes out after they proclaimed it, stuttering and pleading, her thin chest heaving, just try mooore! The knots got in! They can get out! But no. They couldn't come undone. She would have to deal with it and learn to take care of her hair better or she could have her hair buzzed seasonally like you. (She was not thrilled, even if that was at a time when she looked up to you, her big brother, her hero)

Working harshly through the asset's mane is sort of like that. But not.

Really not.

You are never gentle with the soldier like you were with your baby sisters.

Left with the asset, you were instructed to tear the knots out, be as unkind (or cruel, if you like) as needed. Just get them out of the way. Tear them out. Lather them up and comb through. Buzz them off with clippers. And if the asset acts up, use a knife--it doesn't have to be just on its hair, you can't hurt it that bad, so don't think twice.

So...

Yeah, maybe it started then. Somewhere negligible and nebulous between the waxing of its chest and combing-slash-cutting of its locks.

If it started then, that would make sense, because now, whenever the soldier and you are alone for whatever reason (or nonreason), it crawls into your lap like some kind of desperate, feral raccoon. A creature that's dirty and trembling and, somehow, hungry enough to be entirely reckless, directly approaching the human who owns the trash cans it's rummaging through, trying to find anything to stuff into its mouth of rotten, putrid teeth.

And what are you to do in these times, alone with a lapful of weapon?

Typically, when it happens, the soldier seems too fragile to push away. If it is animated--thawed and moving of it's own volition--the asset is often fresh from a mission where you know it's been run ragged, barely fed, hardly given time to rest. As is protocol. So, it is fragile.

This time in particular, though, it's been so recently wiped you can still smell the sharp bleach and dull undercurrent of electricity wafting off of it, supposedly clean yet faintly fried. Acidic. Almost the smell of lazer hair removal but on steriods. Your lip curls up involuntarily at the stench. You always have a moment of hesitation when it does this. And this time is no exception.

You remind yourself that this will make your future grunt work easier. Right? That's why you accept this strange ritual. Isn't it? It's okay for you to lay your hands on the asset if it's part of your job. You will not be punished for it, nor will the asset. Right? This is just like waxing it's chest, combing it's hair, or adjusting its tac gear. Isn't it?

With it's surprisingly light weight in your lap, you do not viciously grab, digging your nails into it's flesh and scars and metal; nor do you slap or hit or pull, rather you set your hands on it's grimy, sweaty back. More evidence of it's recent wiping alongside it's still trembling muscles. Thick sweat overeating involuntary twitches so sharp it looks painful and unnatural, more like a robot jolting than an organic thing moving. Contortions. Convulsions.

With your hands on it's upper back and shoulder, the soldier makes a sound like metal creaking, bent too far, about to snap, warning the manipulator of the impending give. Shards will fly.

You do not feel threatened.

The asset is bent, nearly broken after it's mission and the maintenance after. It cannot hurt you. You could hurt it easily with its fragility and brittleness. Except, you don't intend to hurt it now or any other time when you are alone together. Instead, you allow the minutes to tick by before heavy footfalls announce the entrance of another cockroach, crawling out to shove the asset back into the freezer before scurrying away.

In your spare change minutes, you bizarrely reward the asset and it's starved raccoon behavior, rubbing the cold coins together, if the noises the soldier makes are anything to go by. Metal on metal. Rubbing. Rusty, almost whines as your hands sweep slowly down it's back, following the line of it's bent out of shape spine all the way down to the top of his tac pants that they've left on it this time.

Under your hands, it is only quivering lines of flesh, muscle, and bone shot through with harder callouses of thick scars and metal. If you go based off feeling alone, you would assume that the asset has already been broken--bent past the natural give sheet metal has to it--with all the shrapnel left in it's body. It has bent, snapped, and shattered. The feeling of the asset, by virtue of how rough and sharply-edged it is, makes your movements turn slower and even more gentle, you couldn't make your hands turn cruel if you tried.

You're nearly massaging the creature now, and you can't help but notice how cold it is as you touch it, rubbing its back, shoulders, and the nape of its neck. Every time this ritual unfurls, you notice. It is strange. Shouldn't a soldier with impeccable healing and speed and strength unfurling run much hotter? It puzzles you, but so do many of the things about the asset and the cockroaches that puppet it, crawling inside it, filling its frame with an infestation. Why does it do anything? You have no room to wonder, though, because why do you do anything they say, anyway? How did you get here? What would your baby sister's think of this? What would the wild, summer-sweetened boy you used to be think of this?

The asset creaks again, bringing you back to this ritual. It's pushing it's spasming back into your hands. You sigh, finding, feeling, a knot deep in the muscle below its metal shoulder. You are unwilling to tenderize the muscle, untangling the knot, because it would hurt. You've had deep tissue massages. They do not feel good. The mission and maintenance of the soldier are fresh in your mind and inhaled through your nostrils, so you can not bring yourself to add to its pain.

The best you can do, not adding pain, is some skin-deep soothing. Nothing more. You cannot change much. In parallel, you and the asset are stuck. What you can do is keep the asset's hair tangle-free, you can opt to shave the asset instead of wax it, and you can give into it's hunger. Sometimes. When it's safe to do so. If the cockroaches have the power to blend the soldier's brain into a slurry of nothing but obedience, they can do the same to you. If the cockroaches can twist and alter the precise balance of homeostasis to a sickly chill with injections that burn so badly inside the asset that it has to be held down, risking broken bones and torn muscles, than they can do anything. Everything.

So, shockingly, it is with a weapon lying across your lap--used against humanity as a precise knife between the ribs, slotting into the heart of men who represent hope and uprising and future--that you relocate your own organic nature. Your compassion. Your morals. Your humanness.

And if you leave the lock to the cage containing the asset for the last few hours before he goes back on ice open... that is been you and the asset you have cradled and held and come to know as organic and human despite the metal forced to be a part of him.

You can only hope the asset seizes the opportunity. A way out. The chance to reclaim the humanity it--he has been stripped of.

[not-wholly-unheroic]

I remember seeing a bunch of these “what if Hook was the actual hero? The reason he hates Peter Pan? Here are theories that Hook was a Lost Boy?”, when I was younger and it didn’t really make sense.

Okay? Cool? I’m fine with villains having a sympathetic backstory, but not every villain is meant to be some sort of tragic hero.

I may not have read “Peter and Wendy”, but I’m very familiar with most Peter Pan media aside from the Disney originals and Hook doesn’t really need any special reason to hate Peter Pan other than the obvious “That scurvy brat cut off my hand!” I don’t know about everyone else, but I’d certainly hate someone enough to see them as a rival to kill on the spot for something like that.

But overall, Hook is a pirate. Have people conveniently forgotten that pirates would gore, maim, mutilate, and kill people for the fun of it during their whole pillage and ransacking of other ships? If it wasn’t Peter, then it totally would’ve been someone else.

Heck, Smee called Pan’s actions as a “childish prank” and Hook agreed “Aye, but throwing it to the crocodile! That wretched beast liked the taste of me so well, it’s been following me ever since, licking his chops for the rest of me!”

So, it’s not just the hand…although apparently Hook’s gotten used to it. Again, he’s a pirate captain, however and whenever the crew had gotten into Neverland, there’d bound to have been other pirates that they encountered before Peter Pan. It’s the fact that Tic Toc Croc never leaves Hook alone. Now Tic Toc clearly would eat anyone else, but Hook is the main snack of his attention.

It reminds me of that story about a tigress where she literally tracked and stalked a specific hunter.

So yeah, understandably, Hook has a right to be angry. He doesn’t really need any more motivation than that to hate Peter Pan.

I am curious in how and why, cuz I highly doubt Peter’s dagger would be able to chop off a hand in one blow. And I doubt Hook would’ve just been standing around to let someone, let alone a child, do that to him. “Peter Pan” (2003) does a good job in showing the mutilated stump of such an injury.

But I wonder what exactly led up to that point.

I agree with you on the “Hook was a Lost Boy and Peter is actually evil and Hook is trying to save them” trope. It’s been done so many times now and I’m just…very over it. Besides, while it is, I suppose, technically possible Hook could have been a Lost Boy AND an Etonian…it just…doesn’t seem likely to me that he would be both. And most of those retellings just end up leaving Eton out entirely…which…bothers me because it’s a big part of his character. Even if he wasn’t there for long, it clearly left its mark on him with his obsession with “good form.” Also…I like Hook in part BECAUSE he is a villain. I find him fascinating because he is a sympathetic villain with a great deal of potential for redemption. I don’t WANT him to be the hero from the get-go. That fundamentally changes his character and means we don’t get to see the complexities of his emotions and trauma play out as he struggles to BECOME a hero in his own right. Making him the hero from the start just skips over all that and totally ignores canon for both him and Peter. Peter may be a selfish, cocky kid who can be cruel at times…but he’s not some demon child and people need to stop pretending that he is. Like Hook, Peter is a fun character specifically because he is complicated. Don’t turn him into some straight-up villain who is flat and boring and totally unlikable. Barrie pretty clearly meant for us to like both Peter and Hook and have mixed feelings about them. It’s who they are and it’s why his story has stood the test of time—because well-written characters aren’t one-dimensional.

Also…making Hook the hero and Peter the villain completely misses the point… Frankly, the whole issue Peter and Hook have with each other is (ironically) that they BOTH need to do some growing up. In Peter’s case, it’s pretty obvious. He has physically and emotionally stopped aging. Hook may be a grown man, but (and I say this as someone who loves Hook) he is emotionally very immature. He loses his temper easily, holds a grudge against a kid rather than taking responsibility for his part in things as the adult, and generally just doesn’t behave the way a grown-up should. Peter is stunted in his growth, holding on too tightly to his childhood, and Hook grew up too quickly and never really matured as a result. Wendy sees this pretty clearly and finds the balance between maintaining childlike wonder and growing into a respectable, responsible adult. If you make Peter into an often literal inhuman monster and Hook into the perfect hero, then Peter becomes totally incapable of ever choosing to grow up (even just emotionally, if not physically) and Hook doesn’t need to grow anymore because he’s already reached the end goal.

As for how/why things started between them…personally, I think Hook started it. As you said, he IS a pirate, after all. My guess is that he wanted something from the Lost Boys and/or Tink…information about a treasure, perhaps, or even just information about how to get off the island, as in some versions it seems he is trapped there…and Peter saw Hook threatening them and wasn’t having it. The only way I can figure that Peter managed to actually cut the hand off entirely is if Hook had fallen flat on some hard surface (rock?) that had very little to no give and Peter just…dropped like a stone from a great height, letting gravity really do its work and putting all his weight into it. And the only situation where I can see this happening is if Hook had a weapon in his hand that perhaps Peter was trying to knock back. I honestly don’t think it was intentional to cut the hand off. I suspect, knowing Peter’s tendency to make up stories about himself to make him sound more courageous and tough than he actually is, taking the hand clean off was an accident and when he went to pick up the discarded weapon, it was really only then he realized the hand was still attached. He flung it away in disgust and the crocodile just happened to be nearby. When Peter tells the story, though, he changes things up a bit. And Hook is too out of it from the blood loss and pain to really remember all the details so he believes Peter’s version of events that it was an intentional “prank” to cut off the hand and throw it to the crocodile.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

What do you think about theory that Lila is Manon from future?

I am vaguely aware that this is a thing, but I'm also assuming that it's a joke and not a serious theory because that would be one of the most asinine things that I've ever seen. This fan theory is even worse than the pigeon feather thing in terms of absurdity. It should be reserved for crack fic and nothing else. However, this show never fails to impress me with its poor-quality writing choices, so let's take a quick moment to talk about why this wouldn't be a good twist.

The issue isn't the time travel thing. Lila being from the future is perfectly in line with the sort of crazy stuff that Miraculous does to the point where I wouldn't be shocked if Lila is from the future! Maybe Ladybug and Chat Noir "wronged" her and so she came back in time to try to stop them from being a thing or something like that? It fits her characters. Lila has been shown to be incredibly petty and, whatever is going on, it's clear that she came to Paris with an agenda otherwise why go the multiple identities and parents route?

However, if this from-the-future twist ends up being a thing, then Manon would be the worst choice for Lila's true identity because Manon is a well established character who shares no obvious traits with Lila. The only things that the two characters have in common are their hair and eye colors (or, at least, the hair and eye colors that Lila now has). Nothing else ties them together.

Yes, Manon does her baby-doll-eye manipulation thing, but that's not a sign that she's secretly a master manipulator or a compulsive liar! It's just a thing that little kids do. Boundary pushing is par for the course at that age.

For Manon to be a good baby Lila, we'd need to see Manon doing some actual quality manipulation tactics that trick people instead of just standard little kid pouting and boundary-pushing techniques. There's no point at which Manon is successfully lying to get what she wants. Her requests are always rather blatant and no one but Marinette falls for her "manipulations" because everyone else knows how to deal with little kids as we see in these two exchanges from Puppeteer:

Nadja: Alright, now give the doll back to Marinette. Manon: NO! I wanna keep it! Marinette: She can if she wants. I told her she could borrow it. Nadja: And that's sweet of you, Marinette, but Manon already has so many toys at home, I wouldn't even know where to put it.

Marinette: Manon! What are you- Manon: I left my bag here! Can I have Ladybug? Marinette: You heard what your mom said. Manon: She wouldn't know if I hide it!

Not exactly gold star manipulation tactics here. They'd fail if Marinette had a backbone.

Could you really picture Lila acting like this? I can't and that's the problem. Because Manon is an existing and well-established character, they have had time to make her into baby Lila. Time to set up the twist. But they haven't. They've just written your standard boundary-pushing little kid. Her behavior is really not all that different from Ella and Etta's (Alya's little sisters), so why would Manon be Lila and not one of them?

That's another problem. If you're going to have a big twist like this, then Manon needs to feel different from the other kid characters and she doesn't. Really think about this for a minute! As far as the kid characters' behavior goes, what's the difference between Puppeteer and Sapotis? I'd argue that there isn't one. In both episodes you see little kids pushing boundaries, leading to them being punished, leading to them getting akumatized.

In Puppeteer we get this:

Manon: But, Marinette wanted me to have it! Nadja: You disobeyed me. I told you the dolls were to stay at her house. You won't be needing these anymore. Manon: NO! Mommy, please don't! Nadja: I'm not happy about this. Wait for me here.

In Sapotis we get this:

Ella and Etta: It's not us! It's the—! Alya: That's it! (picks up the twins) Ella and Etta: Come on, Alya! We won't do it again! Alya: Yeah? Well, it's too late! (takes off both twins' propeller hats) We'll all go to the park when you can behave, some other day! Now go to sleep!

Extremely similar scenes with extremely similar outcomes.

Another similarity is Manon, Ella, and Etta's behavior in Simpleman. They're basically interchangeable in that episode, further killing this theory.

If this twist was going to be a thing, then I'd also expect us to see Lila and Manon interact at least once since we do let Lila talk to the kids on a few occasions. And if we didn't get that, then I'd definitely expect us to see a moment between Lila and Nadja or even a moment where Lila avoids Nadja. Anything to establish some sort of tie between Lila and this little family that she was once a part of. As-is, canon has done diddly squat to tie them together so I don't understand why the fandom is making this tie. Do people just really dislike Manon and want her to be evil?

In summary, Lila is - at most - a decade older than Manon, so we should see seeds of Lila already starting to form, but we don't. Lila holds grudges, Manon doesn't. Lila lies left and right, Manon doesn't. Lila plots, Manon doesn't. Lila hates Ladybug and Chat Noir, Manon adores them. In other words, nothing in the text backs up the idea that Manon would become Lila in a few short years, so where did this theory even come from?

[astranite]

Holding Onto Icicles

John, Gordon and hypothermia. Whump, a bit of hurt/comfort and brothers. (John too is a protective big brother. The fish is rather frozen. They both need hugs. More poetic than this intro makes it sound.) 670 words.

Written from the @Augusnippets prompt day 9: hypothermia/overheating/dehydration (a little early but as the muse goes!). Also written because it's winter and IM COLD TOO. And needed a short thing to write because I feel better when i write and that no my creativity hasn't all been eaten up im just cold, tired and stressing!

---

The ocean wasn’t nearly as cold as space— 

John leant over Gordon, checking once again on him, laying his fingertips, even gloved he knew, against his brother’s cool, pale cheek

—but it didn’t have to be. 

John hunched himself up further, to shelter Gordon from the wind with his own body. It bit into him, worming its way in through the neck of his space suit as if it could blow straight through every thermo-controlled layer like a thin cotton t-shirt. His helmet wasn’t recoverable, neither was Gordon’s. They hadn’t been prepared, not properly. Gordon was a limp weight in his lap, head flopped over to rest against John’s chest, over his heart.

Gordon had gone in the water, but he hadn’t. John was shivering too, but Gordon wasn’t.

Thunderbird Two would be here soon, she had to be. No matter how off course the storm and rescue had sent her. He and Gordon needed rescue too. 

They needed their brothers.

“Hang in there, Gordy,” John whispered.

Gordon blinked up at him. “‘S nice to see you…” he slurred.

A clumsy hand wobbled and reached to bump at John’s chin, patting it affectionately. “Wanna hang out with you m-more.”

Gordon hit John’s rather numb nose in the process. John couldn’t care less at this point. It meant his brother was still responsive. 

“We will. I promise. You’ve got first dibs on me, for whatever you want to do.”

When John had dragged Gordon out of the water from the edge, it hadn’t been a guarantee. 

“Yuh...mean it?”

If he was more with it, Gordon would’ve made a joke about being a beached seal or something because he’d been too exhausted to haul himself out of the water. There probably would’ve been sound effects.

His brother’s lips were blue.

Gordon had been silent, curling closer to John with hands that fumbled their grip on his baldric. Orange and yellow, together they were sunset colours.

It was John’s turn to blink but much more quickly than Gordon had. “Of course I do, nothing could possibly stop me.”

Not even the aftermath of water churning with icy slush and a bitter wind. He’d do anything to ensure his brother’s safety in this moment: beg, pray, make a deal with the devil to sell his soul, kill if anyone tried to take away his brother. The universe shouldn’t even bother to make the attempt.

Gordon’s fringe was beginning to freeze. Ever so gently, John swept Gordon’s damp, salty hair away from his forehead. His fingers were cold and difficult to move; he did it though.

A sliver of ice, a sword-tipped icicle, was driving itself though the back of John’s neck, into his spine. Not literally, not quite. The intensity of the cold ached sharply, seeping through his entire body, radiating inwards and outwards. It seared deep into his chest. Maybe it was a bit like what Gordon felt with his back. He’d tried to describe it once. John hoped it wasn’t too painful for him right now. John’s head pounded.

Gordon was still breathing. John held onto that as the facts and flow of his own thoughts grew slippery, as if he was attempting to hold onto icicles on a warm summer’s day. The ice gnawed at them.

His aching hand was splayed out on Gordon’s chest. Everything hurt. The colours and textures of their respective uniforms contrasted with each other, but both were blue in the end. His hand rose and fell. He and Gordon both were blue. 

The ocean, space, they weren’t so different really. Neither were him and Gordon. 

“Of course I mean it, I love you.”

Even if John didn’t know whether Gordon heard, he still had to say it. It should never have been a question.

John closed his eyes as the weight of the cold settled heavy on his shoulders, blanketing over him, more smothering than gravity. It all grew further away—

A Thunderbird’s great engines sounded in the distance.

—but he clung to Gordon tightly.

[dysfunctional-doodle]

Just watched Mutant Mayhem, here are my thoughts!

Overall: Yes, very good I suggest everyone watch it when they can or I will break your knees :)

I’m going to end up rambling far too much unless I split this properly, so I’m going to break it down into sections starting from what I believe is most important in a movie.

This post is still going to be a mess ngl

Story: 8/10

The story is actually very good! It was paced very well and ended in a very touching way. No character interactions or plot beats felt forced or cliché, and no forced identity politics which is always a plus.

The action scenes - of course they were amazing. Paired with the stellar animation, each action scene was brilliantly directed and choreographed. The start shows the turtles’ origin story is similar to most of the iterations with its own unique factors - in this case the ooze was created by Baxter Stockman.

The conflict of the plot was well written, the final act was great and ends with a hopeful and satisfying ending (there is a mid credit scene that teases something big for the series though!).

If it’s any consolation, it’s also very friendly to new fans of TMNT - I went with someone who has not seen any TMNT media before and they really liked it and understood it easily.

Characters: 9/10

Needless to say, all the characters were very well done. Despite its run time and large cast, each one feels grounded with their own unique personality.

For starters: the four main boys! They were done brilliantly - Mikey being hopeful and optimistic whilst naturally being empathetic, Raph channeling chaotic good energy with his iconic rage personality not being over the top, Donnie being a geek in the best way possible, and Leo trying to be a good leader and anxious, always looking out for his brothers but not a complete teachers pet. All very likeable, and I can’t wait to see them in the series!

Splinter: probably the best since 2003! Openly caring of his sons and worries a great deal about how humans will perceive them. Has his own trauma from his experience with humans so he tries to protect his sons by isolating them completely, but eventually realises that his own view of humans should not affect his son’s happiness and lets them fulfil their dream of trying to be accepted by humans even if he will never like humanity himself. Peak character development, 10/10.

Villain/s: all of them felt fleshed out and I look forward to seeing them in the series! Posed their own genuine threats with varying levels of morals. Again, all were fleshed out quite well and played a role in the story.

April: honestly, she didn’t have too much in it compared to the others but does play a key role in the final act and the ending itself. An interesting iteration of April, curious to see more of her.

Animation: 10000000/10

It was brilliant. What else can I say? Though inspired by Spider-verse it is its own style which is amazing to look at. It thrives in action scenes and landscapes. Another groundbreaking style that I hope to see influence others.

Music: 8/10

It slaps. Almost all of them I will be playing for the next week or so. The soundtracks really set the mood beautifully, especially the sombre track. Paired with the animation - ugh - chefs kiss

Overall Rating: 8/10

I am usually very very harsh with films, so for me to rate anything above a seven is basically unheard of. Probably my favourite movie of 2023, and my favourite TMNT movie. 2003 only just beats it overall but that’s mostly because I’ve known it for longer - who knows, a few more rewatches and it might overtake.

[avocadoooo]

foolish one

character: alhaitham x fem!reader

a/n: i didn't do the whole song, small letters intended, also never proofread🤸‍♀️ do send in requests❗

you give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high

rubbing the sides of your forehed, you let out a heavy sigh while looking at the random numbers and formulas written in paper infront of you that you've been trying to understand for the past twenty minutes. the longer the time passes, the longer the number jumbles and shuffles together.

and when you were right on the edge of giving up, you a pair of hands clap right next to your hear startling you.

"you've been staring at that stack of paper for the past twenty minutes and you haven't even gotten passed the first page yet," you hear a familiar voice say, immediately recognizing the owner of it.

"if you're not going to help, best get away. i'm not in the mood to deal with your scolding today, alhaitham."

he doesn't say anything and you hear some shuffling, thinking that he's going to leave, you put your headphones on when suddenly the chair infront of you was pulled from its place. he sits down, dropping a stack of paper infront of you with his neat handwriting of his notes, ready to help with the parts you struggled with (all of it).

wishful thoughts forget to mention when something's really not right

arguing with alhaitham was one that tried their best to avoid, not just because he always thinks that he's right, but also because he makes you think you're making a big deal of things that really are a big deal.

alhaitham's eyebrows meet as he says, "i just ate outside, i didn't think you'd make that big of a deal out of this."

you roll your eyes, already used to him saying those words as you say, "you ate outside when i told you i was going to go and cook us dinner. you also went out of your way to go with nilou, you know how i feel about her, haitham."

he crosses his arms, already over the argument and says, "we've gone over this millions of times already, i told you that she's just a colleague. will you ever get over this? it's getting tiring"

a tear drops as you turn around, locking yourself in your room and your heart with you.

and i will block out these voices of reason in my head

all the signs were pointing to the exit. you knew that it was probably the best thing to do, especially in your situation, but were you going to do it? of course.

you won't.

every single thing about him was screaming red, that it was something wrong and dangerous. and you were well aware of that.

but you always liked red better than green anyway.

and the voices say, "you are not the exception, you will never learn your lesson"

you knew that staying in yours and alhaitham's relationship is a bad idea, hoping that things would turn around and work out for the better.

but you also knew that wishing for that would be throwing another star to the already millions of missed shining ones.

and yet you did anyway. your friends advices going into one ear and out the other as you run back to him. but you know they'll be there for you, ready to catch you as you fall into their arms, crying once again.

you swear you won't come back to him, that you'll be choosing yourself this time around and it'll be better as they nod along, knowing that you'll be back by his side in the morning, things said the night before already forgotten as you look at him with lovestruck eyes.

and you know damn well that he knows that as well.

foolish one, stop checking your mailbox for confessions of love, that ain't never gonna come

was what your friends always told you numerious times, on multiple occasions. have you ever listened? no. have they gotten tired of reminding you? yes. they've realised that you're foolish, you were always a hopeless romantic, but they never thought you'd be a foolish one as well.

and here you were, all dolled up for your anniversary dinner, phone on the table you're sitting infront of with the messages you sent hours ago, looking down at the device with teary eyes.

"hey al, i know you're busy with work but i just wanted to remind you of the date we have tonight! you also said you'd send what you were gonna wear so we can match, see u:))" - sent at 11:30am

"it's 3 hours 'til the date but can you send me the picture if you're not too busy since yk i take a while to get ready. thanks, love" - sent at 3:03 pm

"an hour to go and i have to leave in 20mins, we won't be able to match since you haven't sent me yours, sorry:((" - sent at 5pm

"here at the [location], take your time though" - sent at 5:50pm

you checked the watch on your wrist, 7:43pm, it read. it's been two hours now that you were waiting for your beloved to show up.

"maybe he's just working overtime" he would never work over time.

"he's probably stuck in traffic" the reason you had to leave 20 minutes early was because this place was 5 minutes from his work place so it'd be more convenient for him to come.

"his boss most likely asked him to stay late" he is the boss.

even if you were the one being embarrassed for waiting for wlmost two hours in a restaurant, you still tried making excuses for his behavior anyway.

you grabbed your phone and started typing away

"love, i might leave now since it's been almost two hours that i've waited, you're probably home already since you got tired from work and forgot about the date, it's okay though, we can make up next year"

then you hit send, and just as the message gets delivered as you stood up, a phone chimes from the entrance so you turn to look.

and then there he was, standing at the front talking to the server and you smile thinking that maybe he was just late after all when he walks in and turns to look back out, with his hand extending out.

a hand holds his delicately as nilou walks in.

he turns, looking around the restaurant when you lock eyes, his are shocked, while yours are filled with disappointment. you shook your head as you walk out the exit door, not even bothering to look back as he calls out your name.

you were indeed, the foolish one.

[deaddee-anime-brownfanlady]

Having read and reread the Lackadaisy comic more then once and looking through the Wiki on the different events. Mostly on Rocky and the familial tensions surrounding the McMurray household and why Rocky got the boot?

So the year 1921 was a big event of change. In which Rocky was kicked out at 16-years-old and within that same year Freckle dad died. It leaves me to wonder was this one of the " Family Tragedies " that Rocky mentioned in the chapter ' Breakdown ' I know that he was mostly delirious talking about his mom Sophie who was severely sick at the time and how his father was "working on the railroad~" most of the time which explains why Rocky spent a good half of his childhood at the McMurray house and was raised along side Freckle. But reading the lines and seeing some of the interactions between Rocky & Freckle, there's obvious some underlying issues and unresolved problems between the two cousins. Whatever happened between the two that Rocky took the blame for.

Closely looking through the many letters Rocky sent Freckle during his time on his own and going through different jobs after another, one of them that stands out specifically. Is Rocky asking for the whereabouts of his father, bits of it mentioning his dad haven't written back to him in awhile. ( Seriously need to know more about Rocky Pop's Ransom) In the present timeline of the comic it apparent that his mom passed away. But what about dear Ol Dad, is he also dead? Or did the man just took off after the death of his wife and left his son behind in the progress because he didn't want to deal with Rocky eccentricities. I know the series is still on hatius, but so far Rocky dad sounds like a major dick.

Of the many letters that Rocky has to sent Freckle before he ended up back in St. Louis again has a few words within it that is missing. One of them seems to mention a "Birthday" perhaps wishing Freckle a happy birthday but also one of the words from the letter that stands out to me is the " Your Fault " line the most. I got a feeling this could be connected to whatsoever went down between Freckle and Rocky that lead to Rocky getting kicked out in the first place. From the bits of missing words in the letter it sounds like Rocky is either telling Freckle that " it isn't all your fault anyway " or he's telling him that its " All your fault anyway ". It's hard to tell what Rocky might have actual meant in his 1923 letter, but from what I gather at it is that maybe he was wishing Freckle a good birthday and went a bit on some sort of one-off small tangent about whose really at fault for what take place at the McMurray house and what lead up to Aunt Nina finally having enough of Rocky and kicking him out of her home and her likely thinking he's a bad influence on her sweet boy and not wanting him around Freckle any longer especially when it came to his schooling.

I swear the more you look more in-depth when it comes to Rocky and aspects of his past, including him basically having been on his own since he was sixteen and been hopping from one odd job to the next as well as going from one place to another until he ends up back in St. Louis again later on is pretty real sad when you think about it. I feel like its very much deeply explains why Rocky tries so freaking hard at the Lackadaisy speakeasy when it comes to him taking on the bootlegging side of things of the business and wanting to prove himself useful to Mitzi and all. After everything he's been through thus far it makes sense.

Also the still up in the air question mark of whatever mess that happened in 1921 besides Freckle loss of his father, or when it comes to his mom illness that Rocky blames himself for and took the fall for something that happened in place of Freckle.

Whatever might happens in the next future chapters of Lackadaisy especially on the familial tensions that still lingers with Rocky and his relationship between both his cousin and his Auntie, which leaves me to wonders is how long will it take for Aunt Nina to eventually sense and finds out what her son and her 0ff-beat goofball of a nephew is truly doing for a " Job ."

How long before things between these rum-running cousin danger duo goes south? Especially when it come to Rocky on his part because I feel things for him might slowly take a turn for the worse again unfortunately.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 9: Bound in Blood

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: To some, the blood bond is as sacred as marriage.

Word Count: 1,979

Notes: Today (April 29) is Lucy's birthday! This might be the sappiest thing I've ever written. Also, I couldn't find much concrete information on blood bonds, so apologies if I got some of the details wrong or had to fudge any of the real-life aspects of these bonds to accomplish what I intended in this fic. Don't try this at home, kids; blood-born illnesses are a thing. Warnings for depictions of blood, self-inflicted injuries, and smut.

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The knife stung as it bit into the flesh of her left palm. Blood, like red pearls, beaded at the first prick, then rushed from the wound in a small gush as she increased pressure on the blade and it sliced deeper into her flesh. She dragged it across nearly the full length of her palm, leaving a diagonal, bleeding line from the base of her index finger to the heel of her palm opposite the side of her thumb in its wake. 

When Tommy had asked her what she thought about marriage, she had been honest with him. Her feelings were conflicted. All her life, marriage had seemed to be akin to a cage. She’d watched women–not just her mother, though she was certainly the most potent example–have their entire beings almost entirely stripped away, until nothing, not even their name, remained. Nothing but a maid, housekeeper, nanny, and whore all rolled into one.  

Perhaps she was being a bit harsh, but that was the example of marriage she had been exposed to for almost her entire life.

And it did not ultimately matter what Tommy wanted, either. She knew it was never his desire to cage or chain her. But it would not be up to him. Society had a very particular expectation for women who were married. And if he wanted to stand even a miniscule of a chance of being accepted into the circles he longed to be a part of, he could not have an unconventional wife. At least not now. 

Perhaps someday, with the changing times and more modern outlooks…if equal rights for women ever truly properly took off, then maybe. But not right now. 

And she would be a rubbish wife. Bored out of her mind. She detested cleaning, was an absolute disaster when it came to knitting and sewing, and she was certain that sitting at home with the knowledge that her husband and his boys were out enjoying all the action and thrills of the life without her, would eat away at her. 

She never had handled the feeling of being left out very well. 

She’d grow to resent it. Resent her life. Maybe even resent him. And that was not something she was willing to risk. 

He had been startlingly understanding, all things considered, when she explained her feelings to him. He knew her so well, he probably had half been expecting it. He’d just stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head. 

“I don’t need a ring and a certificate to know that I’m going to love you forever,” he’d told her. She’d locked her arms around his neck, stretching up on her toes to touch her forehead to his. 

“I plan to love you forever too,” she’d affirmed. And she meant it. Just because she could not say yes to being his wife, did not mean that they didn’t intend to be together for the rest of their lives.  

“But the door is always open. If you ever decide someday that you do want it,” Tommy had promised. Her brows raised, she’d looked at him with eyes that were only half joking. 

“Really? What if you end up marrying someone else?”

He’d scoffed at the mere suggestion, but must have caught the seriousness behind the teasing tone in her voice, because he’d pulled her closer, fondly kissing her nose. “Doesn’t matter. The promise still stands,”  he’d shrugged as if it were no big deal. “You decide you want me to marry you, and I’m already married, I’ll just get divorced.”

Laughing, she’d shook her head. “I don’t think you can ‘just get divorced,’ love. It would fuck your reputation.”

He shrugged again. “Would be worth it,” her laughter faded at the dead seriousness she saw in his eyes as he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I’d do anything for you.”

There was something about the way he’d said it, the complete and total certainty, that made her nearly want to cry. No one had ever loved her like this before. 

Completely. Passionately. Unconditionally. 

“There’s something else we could do. In the place of an official, legal marriage. If you’re interested,” he’d suggested, voice but a tempting purr in her ear. And when she looked at him, brow raised with intrigue, he smirked devilishly. 

And so here they were, kneeling in front of each other on the rug in the bedroom of her flat, each of them clutching a dagger in one hand, drawing it across their palms. Lucy watched the blood ooze from her cut, slightly flexing her fingers. She set the knife aside, looking from the warm, red gush to see Tommy doing the same, the dark red of his blood striking against the pale white of his skin.

He looked up, sky blue eyes glimmering in the low light of the candles they’d lit. Her eyes traced over the sharp lines of his jaw and cheeks, softened slightly by the freckles dotting his skin. Those eyes that could be as cold as ice or as warm as a sunny sky boring into her. Dark fringe falling over his forehead. When it was less styled, like it was now, he could have almost been described as a little boyish.  

The blood pooling in both of their palms dripped between their fingers. Sticky and warm.

Slowly, being careful so as to not jostle the cuts too much, they pressed their palms flush against each, then, just as slowly, interlaced their fingers.

Lucy gasped quietly at the feeling of his cut kissing hers. Their blood mixing together. Pouring into each other. Running through the other’s veins. 

If they had not already been one being simply split in two before, they certainly were now. Lucy shuddered, Tommy’s free hand going around her waist and pulling her a little closer, keeping their bleeding palms clasped tightly together. She tilted her head up, nose brushing along his neck and jaw as she did. He dipped his head to kiss her, deeply and open mouthed, the slow stroke of his tongue against hers making her moan softly against his plush lips. 

To some, the blood bond was as sacred as marriage. An unbreakable intermixing of the two bloods. The closest thing one could get to entwining their soul with another. Not only was it a symbol of the deepest possible love and trust, but also a silent promise of eternal devotion. A bond that would last as long as the scars remained present on their skin. A permanent mark tying them together for as long as they both lived. 

Of all the scars marking her flesh, faded but never truly to disappear, this was the only one she would ever truly be happy to have.     

His blood ran in her veins, now. He was a part of her. Forever.   

She’d have wanted it no other way.  

She kissed him back hard, the hand not clasped in his landing on his chest, feeling the steady rise of his breathing and the thump of his heart. Their palms squeezed impossibly tighter against each other, the blood coating them slick, smearing all across their palms, impossible to tell which belonged to whom. 

When they finally parted for air, foreheads resting against each other, they looked down together at their still clasped, bloody hands. 

It was done. 

Tommy’s arm around her waist tightened, somehow pulling her even closer to him, his lips on her forehead. Lucy closed her eyes. He was so impossibly warm, body large and strong and safe around her. She could have stayed like that forever. 

“I love you more than anything,” he said, and the words left tears brimming in her eyes. The weight of those words was not lost on her. 

“I love you too,” she said, angling her face up to his. “More than anything.” 

He smiled at her softly, head dipping to kiss her one last time before they parted, and his fingers flexed a little around hers. Their mixed blood was starting to run down both of their wrists. 

“We should get bandaged up. Before we both bleed everywhere,” he mumbled. 

“Mm,” she nuzzled at his chest. “Yeah.”

He reached for the gauze and bandages they’d set to the side in preparation. Some of the blood had congealed, half sticking their palms together, and it took a little bit of gentle fidgeting to pull them apart. Lucy hissed as Tommy poured a helping of alcohol over her cut, leaning into the kiss he brushed against her temple in apology. They cleaned and bandaged each other’s cuts with quick, practiced movements, examining their handiwork critically to ensure it was satisfactory and wouldn’t leave the other open to any complications or difficulty in healing.

Once that was done, Tommy was gathering her back up into his arms again, kissing her everywhere he would possibly reach. She giggled, overjoyed at the blatant display of affection, returning it as eagerly as she knew how. Strong arms scooping her up by the back of her thighs, he lifted her up onto his hips, standing in one fluid motion and carrying her towards the bed.  

Still kissing, they collapsed in an entanglement of limbs onto the mattress. Clothes were shed hastily, and then there was just the sounds of pleasure and utterances of love filling the room. Her fingers clenching in his hair as he kissed his way down her body, lips, tongue, and fingers working together once he’d reached his destination to make her cry out, back arching off the bed. 

And then he was over her again, wiping his mouth and looking far too pleased with himself. He grinned when she needily dragged his mouth back to hers, legs wrapping around his waist, eager. They both cried out when he sank into her in one deep thrust, the penetration serving as the second unioning of their bodies that evening. 

The bedframe creaked with the pace of their love making; thrusts steady, slow, and deep. Lucy clutched to him as tightly as she could, never wanting to let him go. Never wanting to have to spend another moment of her life without him. 

She’d given him her soul. And in exchange he’d gifted her his heart. And now, with their blood running through each other’s veins, it was as if the merging of their beings had finally completed. They were one now. No one and nothing could ever tear them apart. 

She cried out his name when his cock hit the spot inside her that made her see stars, his thumb rubbing circles into her clit. Her head tipped back against the pillows, babbling nonsense about how good he always was to her. How he always took care of her. How he knew her more deeply and intimately than anyone else ever could. 

When her walls squeezed around him, Tommy moaned her name like it was a prayer. Like it was the most precious thing in the entire world. And then his lips were at her ear, whispering over and over again how much he loved her. That she felt so good. That he promised to love her for as long as he breathed. Maybe even after that. 

She came with a sob of his name against his lips as he kissed her, felt it as he came with her at the exact same moment, filling her with a groan, hips rolling to a stop to rest inside of her as he emptied while she tightened around him like a vice. For hours, or maybe only minutes, neither of them moved, just laying there, holding each other as tight as they could. 

Later, Tommy laid reclined against the pillows, with Lucy cuddled securely in her spot on his chest. And there, in the dark and quiet of night, they traced each other’s bandaged cuts, and whispered promises of eternal love.

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[witchynek0]

why I think Ultraman:Rising a one of the better movies in the last months

I watch ALOT of movies, and im not joking, I have alot of free time. and recently I have taken notice that alot of movies, especially animated ones, feel rushed. MAJOR SPOILER ALERT ultra man rising although a long movie, feels really slow. you get to meet Ken Sato. a cocky baseball player, but also; Ultraman! he accidentally picks up a kaiju baby, and is asked to raise it till the baby can go back to its native land, all while fighting the KGB.

ken sato is a cocky baseball player playing for ‘the giants’, with no family, and no friends. he is confident and full of himself, and sure he will make the Giants Great again. all on his own. he doesnt care about his team, and he doesnt care about his reputation. the night of his game he has to work on a Kaiju attack where he saves kaiju baby and takes them to his base. keeping it safe from the KGB, who want to use the baby to find Kaiju Island and kill all Kaiju

i've watched this movie on repeat since it came out, the buildup of the story and the small details and secrets that get revealed as the story progresses keep you guessing and grasping for more. the movie lets you form an attachment to the character, and doesnt rush you by telling you all the ‘lore’ as quickly as possible and then moving on to the problem and how they solve it. 

Ami seems to play a key role in Ken his development, the ‘off the record chat’ seems to open his mind. he asks her how she juggles her job and kid, since he is having a hard time with it. ami says “...they are trying to discover who they are, and what they want. and the only support they have; is us. imperfect messed up us dealing with our own issues. trying to figure out who we are…” 

this strikes ken to free the baby Kaiju, and teaches her Baseball. with trial and error the baby kaiju, named Emi later. explore their bond. safely in the base. the next day when Ken is on a promised follow up interview with Ami, Emi gets out of the base, follows a blip with one of Satos commercials on it. and climbs a tower. ken saves her for falling but breaks her arm in the process and has to ask his dad for help. all of this happens in roughly a hour, see how much that is? how much ive written down about Ken sato and how you got to know him? now this is not all that is shown in the movie, so do watch it if you havent. because this is just the tip of the iceberg. and there is another hour left. 

and in that hour, Emi changes and learns alot. Ken his dad gets more involved. and i havent even mentioned the AI robot that helps ken during this first half of the movie. i dont mention the KGB and their underlying motive. this movie offers so much compared to others ive watched. lets take for example disneys Wish. (dont come at me disney i do still love you) it was fast, i barely got the plot the first time around and i felt rushed and hurried. i watched Wish $ times i still dont really get it. and feel like i havent seen all of the movie. and not just disney, but alot of ‘BIG’ companies lately, have made rushed movies that werent thought through. the story isnt rich and flavourful Pho. but more like a diluted murky beef broth, still good, but less satisfying. the animated movie industry ahs been through some hardship lately, new techniques. and mostly the animators, who work hard for little pay, under alot of stress to make good content cause our attention span doesnt last. and the internet is fast paced. ive made animations, by hand, and its so hard to get it looking good. im here to tell you, Ultraman;Rising is the movie id show people when they ask me “what do you want to do as an animator?” and i say “make something as good as this is.” 

id also like to make it clear that yes, there are good if not better OTHER animated movies, but this is recent and is the best example in the moment.

[ralvezfanatic]

Not-so-secret Valentines

Spencer Reid x Luke Alvez

Spencer gets a secret valentines gift and can't exactly figure out who it's from. Luke helps him figure it out.

Prompt: "if you’re still wondering who left those flowers at your desk, i think i’m ready to put your mind at ease.” || Taken from @scealaiscoite prompt list | Changed a bit but was inspired by the prompt.

Also available on AO3

A/N: I keep seeing these prompt lists and decided to finally use one, ofc with Ralvez because I love them so much. Also.. this was supposed to be a short blurb id how its almost 3k 😭

Word Count: 2.7k

Spencer got into work early like usual, with only Emily and Garcia, except this time he walked in alone. Luke was running late. Supposedly, his alarm didn't go off and he didn't wake up on time, so he was behind schedule.

Although Spencer didn't completely believe it, he also didn't think Luke would lie to him. There wasn't any reason to lie, they were honest and open to each other.

It just felt hard to believe Luke would sleep in late when he wakes up early to go on a run before work, but mistakes happen Spencer told himself.

“Boy Wonder!!! Hellooo! Do you like the decorations? I put them in myself, came in extra early to set it up!” Garcia greeted him happily, walking up to him.

Spencer looked around the office quickly and nodded, it was decorated with hearts, streamers and all Valentine decorations Garcia could find. It looked nice, but just reminded Spencer how single he was.

“Yeah, it looks nice Garcia. Really nice.” He nodded again, pressing his lips together to form his slightly awkward smile.

“Where's Newbie?” She asked when she noticed the lack of the other agent. They've been arriving at work together for a while now, and they're always hanging out together, so seeing them alone feels odd to the team sometimes.

“He was running late and told me to go because he didn't want me to be late either.” He looked to the side as he spoke, checking out the desk which all seemed to have something on them.

Garcia looked at him for a moment, and it was obvious that she was thinking of something but decided to leave it be. “Alright then. It's a bit rude that he'd make you come alone on Valentine's Day but whatever.. he'll be hearing from me.” She said, muttering the last part as she left.

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows, confused by her comment. He didn't see why'd it be a big deal. They were friends, Luke had no obligation to be with him On Valentine's Day. He has spent almost every single Valentine's Day alone, so what did it matter.

He didn't mind, not at all. It was just a silly holiday for business to make money off.. at least that's what Spencer told himself every year. In reality, he wished he had someone to spend it with. Just once at least.

Actually, he wants to spend it with Luke.. but that's just because they're good friends. Since Luke joined, they both have been wanting to spend time with each other.

So it makes sense that he wants to spend Valentine's Day with Luke. Friends could do that right? Of course they can, people do it all the time.

Maybe not to the extent Spencer wants to..

He wants to cuddle with Luke, be held and kissed by him.

But that's not going to happen, so Spencer just heads to his desk. He's met with a small heart shaped box with a hand written note from Garcia.

“Happy Valentine's Day Boy Wonder! - Garcia :)”

Spencer smiles at the note and puts it down before opening it to find a bunch of his favorite sweet treats. He makes a mental note to go out to buy her chocolates as a thank you, then carefully puts the note to the side and the box on top of it so it doesn't accidentally fly away.

He then starts to work on some files, trying to make the day pass so he can go home and eat some takeout. Alone. On his couch. Doing nothing. Being single. Again, for what he feels is the hundredth time.

Luke finally arrives to work, being the last to get in. He walks down the desks, passing Spencer and stopping to greet him.

“Morning Spence. Sorry about this morning, I have no idea what happened with my alarm.” He apologized as he stood by Spencer's desk.

“Oh yeah no problem, things happen. It's fine.” Spencer assured him, smiling up at him.

“I'll be sure to fix my phone though, don't worry” Luke added on.

He was about to say something else when he noticed the heart shaped box on Spencer's desk, his usual grin faltering slightly.

He wondered who gave him a gift. He didn't think it could be from the team. So was it someone from another unit? Did Spencer know them? Did he like them too? Did he have a partner he wasn't aware of?

Luke tried to calm down and looked away from the box and back at Spencer, who didn't seem to catch Luke's over-thinking.

“Uh, I'll talk to you later. I should probably get to work now.” Luke smiled before heading to his desk.

The rest of the work day was as normal. They fortunately didn't get called to a case, so everyone (who had plans) were happy.

Luke had a gift he really wanted to give, but he didn't have a moment to do so. Spencer never got up for long, his coffee cup had been refilled by some kind coworker, and for some reason, Spencer hadn't finished it yet.

Luke was annoyed, wishing the team wasn't so kind and let Spencer get up to get coffee himself. (He says this but he has refilled and even bought coffee on multiple occasions).

After what seems like forever, Spencer finally got up. Luke subtly watched him walk down the office and head to the bathroom. He practically jumped up as soon as Spencer entered the bathroom and took his bag.

He grabbed a small box from Spencer's favorite donut place, and another box of chocolates and a card, quickly heading over to place them on Spencer's desk.

They looked so much better than that small heart shaped box, he thought to himself.

He didn't really care who saw him, he was sure the team knew about his crush on the doctor.

He smiled, wondering how Spencer would react to the random gifts. He wondered if he'd figured it out it was from him. He hoped Spencer liked it, even if he didn't figure out it was from him.

Luke headed to his desk, sitting down right on time as Spencer exited the bathroom.

Luke pretended to work, typing at his computer and looking at a case file trying to seem distracted.

Spencer approached his desk and his eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the gifts. He looked around the bullpen, searching for who did this, or someone who seemed like they knew something. He looked over at Luke, but he seemed busy in his work, just like everyone was.

He sat down cautiously and checked the items on his desk.

He first took the card, the front being a small cup of coffee with the words “Words cannot espresso how much I like you.” He let out a quiet laugh, finding the joke amusing. He opened it to read “Happy Valentine's” with a small hand written addition and a heart.

As he read the note, his eyebrows furrowed again and he looked up to scan the bullpen once more.

Luke had been watching Spencer since he sat down, waiting for his reaction. He smiled when he saw him laugh as he read the card, glad that he liked his choice, even as cheesy as it was.

He watched him look around the office again, and he quickly looked back at his case file, hoping Spencer didn't notice him. He wanted to keep it a little secret for a while, just to mess with the genius.

He looked up again and saw Spencer move onto checking the donuts, and he felt his heart melt as Spencer's face lit up. Luke had bought his favorite donuts in heart shapes and wrote a small note on the inside of the box. “I donut know how to tell you that I love you.” with a nervous donut doodle on it. Or maybe sad? Scared? It wasn't a very good doodle..

Spencer felt his cheeks go hot and he closed the box quickly, (after taking out a donut).

He decided to check the chocolates at his house, not being able to handle any more cheesy comments.

All day Spencer kept wondering who gave him the gifts. He asked around, but got no answers, and as much as a genius he was, he was dumb too

He had a small idea who it could be, but he didn't want to get his hopes up. Spencer tried to think of everyone he knew and would get him all these items. He made a list and removed people one by one, until only Luke was left. Then he'd remake that list, thinking he was just being delusional.

Finally, around noon, he gave up. Even though he kept asking his friends about it, they would give him no response. Not even Garcia knew, and he was sure she would have helped more.

The bullpen was mostly empty, everyone seemed to have decided to go out for lunch, leaving only Spencer and Luke at their desk, Emily and Garcia in their offices.

Spencer looked at the boxes on his desk, trying to figure out this mysterious Valentines. How could he solve crimes and find serial killers, but he couldn't find the person who liked him?

Well, he had figured it out ages ago, but he just didn't think it was possible.

Spencer let out a sigh and stood up, going over to the coffee machine to refill his empty mug. He poured in some coffee, then added about half the container of sugar and stirred it.

“So.. still trying to figure out the mystery of the treats?” Luke asked as he approached Spencer with his own empty mug.

“Um.. yeah. I can't think of anyone who would get me all this, and write these little notes. I mean I barely talk to anyone! Like not to seem sad but you guys are my only friends. Other than the nice barista at that coffee shop and the people at the bookstore near my house, I don't have many non-work friends.” Spencer frowned, taking a sip of his coffee to taste it.

Needed more sugar.

Luke felt a bit saddened by Spencer's response, but kept his face the same. He grabbed the pot and poured himself some coffee, adding a normal amount of sugar unlike the tall genius.

“Could it have been the same person who gave you that other box?” He suggested with a small shrug

“The heart shaped one? No, definitely not! Garcia would have given it to me directly, and she wouldn't have denied giving it to me anyway.” Spencer shook his head, oblivious to his friends' jealousy.

Oh.

Luke felt a bit stupid now.

He should have known Garcia would give Spencer a Valentine's gift. They were best friends, why wouldn't she?

He took a quick glance at the other desks, seeing similar boxes on their desks.

She got them for everyone except him.

Ouch?

Luke turned back to Spencer who was adding in more sugar to his coffee.

“Well, I could tell you who it was.” Luke said, taking a sip of his coffee.

Spencer looked at him, his eyebrows raised slightly as he stopped stirring. “You could?”

“I could.” Luke nodded as he set his mug down.

“How would you know? Nobody else knew anything, why would you know?”

“Because it was me.” Luke replied, looking up at him, waiting for a reaction.

Spencer stared at him for a second, unable to believe what he just heard. His face was flushed and he couldn't come up with a response.

“What? You? You like me? Since when? Why?” Spencer spat out, flustered at the small confession.

Luke let out a small chuckle and nodded, finding Spencer's reaction adorable.

“Yes, me. I gave you all that, cheesy puns and all..” Luke sheepishly smiled as he remembered the notes he wrote.

“But why?”

“Because I love you. Since the day we met, I've liked you. I mean, I thought you were drop dead gorgeous the first time I saw you, but after getting to know you more? Hearing you talk so passionately about things, your intelligence, your kindness, everything about you. I fell in love.. and I fall deeper everyday I’m with you.” Luke confessed, his voice genuine and soft as he looked into Spencer's eyes.

Spencer was a complete flustered mess, his brain was useless. He couldn't come up with a response, his face only flushing a brighter red.

“Was that too much? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drop all that on you at once.” Luke apologized, noticing Spencer's silence, feeling bad for his sudden confession.

“No! No it's okay. A bit much to take in but.. give me a second.” Spencer shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and assured Luke that he was alright.

“I love you too.. You've always let me ramble on about useless information, and you even ask me about it. You look genuinely interested in what I have to say too. And you're just so kind to me. You don't think I'm weird, even when I clearly am. And you're really hot too.. Like you're hot and super nice to me! Like honestly, how could I not like you?”

Now it was Luke's turn to blush. He felt his heart melt at Spencer's own confession, but chuckled at the last part. He looked down and shook his head before looking back up at Spencer with a grin.

“You think I'm hot?” Luke asked, a smirk on his face, stepping closer to him.

“Yeah, a bit.” Spencer smiled, leaning towards Luke slightly.

“You're not that bad either.” Luke whispered, leaning in and holding Spencer’s cheek.

He looked into his eyes, silently asking for permission before going further. Spencer nodded softly, his eyes shining with love for the other man.

Luke leaned in and pressed a kiss against Spencer, who quickly melted into the kiss.

Garcia, who decided to go question Luke about this morning and see if he deserved the small box of treats she got him or not, was found with the cutest sight at the coffee machine.

She let out a squeal and dropped the box from excitement, which scared the agents and made them pull away immediately.

“Oh my gosh!! You finally confessed to him? Here I was, going to question you about this morning, but this makes up for it even better! Oh I dropped your box, but honestly that is on you guys because how could you kiss in the office and not expect me to squeal when I see?” Garcia rambled on, bending down to grab the box and rushing over to the new couple.

“Garcia-” Spencer started, but was quickly interrupted by her continuing on.

“Oh newbie I was so mad at you for ditching our boy wonder here this morning! I took back my gift too, like how could you leave him alone on Valentine's? You didn't deserve my gift!” Garcia handed Luke the slightly dented box of candy as she spoke.

Luke looked at her and then the box, and listened to her. “Thank you..” He nodded before looking at Spencer and back at her.

“I had to leave him because I wanted to get something for him as a surprise.” Luke said, feeling a need to explain himself after Garcia's rambling.

“And I think it was worth it.. I hope?” He laughed as he looked at Spencer for his approval.

“Oh yeah definitely. I didn't mind taking the train after getting those donuts.” Spencer joked, knowing that's not exactly what Luke had meant.

“See, it was worth it to Spencer, and that's what matters.” Luke smiled, going along with him.

“Ohh, you guys are so cute already.. the rest of the team is gonna hate that they missed this! Oh I should text them” Garcia smiled excitedly as she got her phone out.

Luke laughed at her eagerness, while Spencer just seemed a bit lost now, but neither did any attempt to stop her as she walked off, texting the team.

“Happy Valentine's Day cariño..” Luke smiled softly, turning to Spencer.

“Happy Valentine's Day.” He replied, leaning in to press another quick kiss to his date (and soon to be boyfriend).