#this doesn’t mean anything so don’t even try to give it a meaning

[mixingandmelting]

Inconspicuous Relationship

Summary: Everyone in the family thinks the two of you hadn’t tied the knot and keeps playing matchmaker. He, being the troll he is, decides to roll with it

He told you it was going to be fine. To leave it to him; his plan was going to be flawless. Flawless his ass. You’re dying from second-hand embarrassment and Jason’s not helping with that shit-eating grin on his face. 

“You know, Gotham Park is apparently considered one of the prettiest in the city during all four seasons.” Steph starts, sending you a look across the dinner table. “Wouldn’t it be so romantic to go there, especially for a first date?”

You beg to the higher beings that your cringe isn’t visible in your smile as you hummed in agreement. You’ve been enduring this since the beginning of the family dinner where the siblings kept dropping obvious hints for the two of you to get the ship sailing. And Jason being Jason, went along with it all the while ignoring the secret glares you give him. For Pete’s sake, he was even playing footsies under the table!  

“Didn’t you say you had a plan?” You hiss under your breath as Tim and Dick, surprisingly, voice out in agreement how Gotham Park was the last place to go on a date, their expressions speaking for the horrors they’ve seen there. 

“Yeah? Why? You don’t like how my plan’s going so far?” You scowl, kicking his foot away when he prod your foot again with his. He gives you a cheeky smirk in response. 

Checking and seeing Steph getting into a squabble with the other over the apparent controversial site, you lean closer towards him. 

“You call this a plan?”

“If not, then what is it?” He chugs the water in his glass, waving a hand towards them. “Besides, over half of them are grown ups. They’ll get it one way or another.”

If you’re not dying from embarrassment, you’re dying from stress. It’s clear as day that he’s in it for the chaos while you’re simply wanting to rip the bandage and get this over. Just when you’re about to snap at him, you catch Damian staring at both of you across the table. Quickly, you compose yourself, the same smile you had on for Steph now directed at the fourteen year-old.

“What’s wrong Damian? Need something?” 

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, his gaze blank and revealing nothing. You can feel sweat accumulate in your hands, the urge to swat at the man beside you getting stronger at the coughs he lets out that’s meant to cover his laughter. 

“I simply don’t get it.” The teen then takes a bite of his steak and thoughtfully chews on it. “Why can’t Jason simply ask you out for a date when he’s completely smothered for you?” 

Cue the room going completely  dead silent. Well, sans Duke pounding his chest from choking on his food. You would’ve, at least, chuckle at had it not been for you steaming up. 

“D-Damian? Damian buddy?” Dick calls out from his seat, his voice slightly pitched. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t be the only one that’s getting tired of them beating around the bush, Richard. I’m simply spelling it out, that’s all.”

“Damian-“

“No, Damian’s right.” All eyes set on Jason, who puts the silverware down and leans back on his chair. “It’s not like I’ve been really meaning to hide it anyways so,” he turns toward you, “what do you think of Saturday, 1:00 PM at your favorite place you like going to?” 

…You can’t do this. This man and his theatrics; you wanted to scream how he had already asked about it last week. Tell them they’re getting scammed,  it’s not even the first date-! 

But Damian’s words keep echoing in your mind and the fact Jason knows that you know that it’s true is messing with you so badly. It prevents you from trying to calm everyone down, the family up and arms at the “horrible” confession Jason gave as he merely shrugs and asks what else he was supposed to do.  You further baffle them when you muster a nod, your hands still covering your very much burning face. 

Later on, when Bruce comes back from the supposed emergency phone call, he pulls you and Jason to the side. It was one thing to hear Bruce Wayne giving his approval and blessing (for some reason) for you two’s relationship. It was another when finding out this whole thing was indeed staged by both Jason AND Bruce to get back at the rest of the family for a prank that occurred last week during a joint mission as the older man asked the younger if everything went accordingly. 

You decide to give Jason a piece of your mind once the two of you got home which led to him to follow you around and ask you to reconsider calling him by his full name for the rest of the week.

[sapsuckers-and-stardust]

This is one of those headcanons I highly disagree with just because of the nature of chess. Chess was one of the first games that computers cleared us at. The reason we don’t have big human-computer chess matches anymore is because the computers literally just annihilate and grandmasters won’t do it. I am not saying this because Spock is a computer or even acts like a computer, but…

Chess is a game that is won by effectively calculating the effects of a move and it’s followups. “Inspiration” and “throwing them off their game” isn’t how chess works, especially not against someone who, under a zero-stakes activity like recreational chess, is unflappable. If you read any chess forum about how “head games” play into the overall game play, it quickly becomes clear that Spock (respectfully) wouldn’t give a single fuck about anything Kirk could do to try and mess with him. Kirk could be excellent at chess, and be able to beat Spock, but the idea that he clears Spock just doesn’t make sense to me.

Spock is shown on screen to be able to mentally process mathematical data much faster than anyone on board the ship— the essential skill of chess is looking ahead and seeing the outcome each move has on the game. The first time he played kirk he may have been distracted trying to figure out “what the fuck is this man doing” but I see him realizing after a few losses the answer is either “nothing at all” or “making tactical moves I can work around.” Spock just has the rote computing power (coupled with a more efficient humanoid brain that doesn’t have to process quadrillions of stupid moves like a computer does) to crush at chess.

You know those crazy odds Spock loves to cook up? “The odds against you and I both being killed are 2,228.7 to 1…” that’s a chess skill, especially if he approaches it from the computer-style of playing (which I suspect he would— in “court martial” he even says he programs the ship’s computer to play chess, so he knows about these things). That’s looking at the possible future outcomes and seeing what could happen if things go one way or the other. He’s literally playing chess the computer way all the time with everything.

From a literary standpoint the idea that it’s important for Kirk to be better at Spock than something is excellent and it makes for good storytelling but it’s just one of those things that seems so bizarrely out of place to me because chess isn’t a game of emotion or head games or anything of the sort. A being with as much mental computing power as Spock would simply do exceptionally well. I’m not saying Spock would obliterate Jim, they might be evenly matched. But I think it’s a little silly to assert that Jim is the clear chess winner.

The only counterpoint I have to this is if Spock actually doesn’t care about chess in the slightest and only started doing it because it means he gets to hangout with Kirk for hours on end, then yes, Kirk may in fact clear Spock. This however, is not supported in text because he mentioned programming a chess computer and playing against it for fun.

Kirk is better at chess than Spock

[littleslaywrites]

sleepless | aaron hotchner x reader

Summary: you can’t sleep when aaron is away.

word count: 0.9k

cw: pure fluff

You’d tried everything to get to sleep. A hot bath, reading in the moonlight, soothing tea. Nothing worked.

The clock ticked mockingly, reminding you of the time passing. Aaron had told you he’d be back that night, but let you know it’d be late and to go to sleep. You tried, but the knowledge that he was on his way was enough to keep you up. 

Not to mention it was nearly impossible for you to fall asleep without hearing Aaron’s voice. He always made sure to call you when he was away, knowing the sound of his words would soothe you to sleep. You hadn’t had difficulty falling asleep since you moved in with him, comforted by his presence, and when he was gone, his voice could lull you into slumber.

Giving up on the bed, you moved to the couch. You wanted to be able to hear him come in, considering you were fighting a losing battle with sleep. The streets were nearly empty, with only an occasional car passing. Each time one rolled by, you got your hopes up that it’d be Aaron.

After what must’ve been an hour of trying to sleep on the couch, you finally heard the door open. Sitting up, you rushed over to the door. 

“What are you doing awake?” Aaron said, sounding more tired than you were.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you respond in between littering his face with kisses. 

He smiles at your affection, wrapping his large arms around you. His warmth immediately comforts you, and you rest your cheek on his chest. He doesn’t want to move, savoring the feeling of you in his arms after being away. 

Sensing your peace, he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. You let him, knowing he’ll soon be beside you in bed. When he drops you off and tries to walk away, you grab at his hand. 

“I won’t be long,” he reassures you. When you don’t let go, he leans down to kiss your forehead. Satiated for the moment, you ease your grip.

Aaron slides into his usual routine, checking on Jack before taking a quick shower. Eyes closed, you listen, knowing the sound of the shower turning off means he’ll be climbing into bed before you know it. 

You feel the bed dip beside you, and you’re cuddling into his side before he’s under the covers all the way. Your head finds his chest again, and you wrap both your legs around one of his. His warmth reminds you of how cold it is without him. 

“Missed you,” you say, laying a hand over his heart to feel its rhythm. In response, he leans into your shoulder.

“I missed you, too.”

Aaron feels his own eyes growing heavy. You’re more than aware that his job is far more tiring than anything you do, but he never makes you feel lesser. You don’t know it, but he has the same trouble sleeping without you. He hates making you worry about him, so he would never tell you, but nights in hotels are always sleepless. That’s why he finds it so important to call you. He needs to hear your voice just as much as you need to hear his.

“Was the case good?” you sleepily ask. 

“Mmhmm.”

If it was earlier, or if the two of you weren’t so tired, you’d spend time on the couch, debriefing what the other missed. He didn’t go into detail about most cases, but you provided a much needed light after being surrounded by the darkness of his job. In return, you’d catch him up on the events of the week. He hated not being around, so he’d ask about every little thing. It was to a point where you nearly thought it was ridiculous. He’d ask about what you ate, what you watched, who you saw around. It was endearing, the way he’d listen so intently to the recollection of a trip to the grocery store. 

For now, though, he didn’t have the energy to ask, and you didn’t have the energy to respond. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say. On the surface, you mean that you were glad he was back, returning to your bed after a case. But you mean it even deeper. You’re glad he’s here, in your life. You can’t imagine how you ever slept without knowing he was yours.

His breathing slows, signaling he’s dozed off. In his sleep, he moves closer to you, leaning an arm around you. His weight is a reassuring presence, reminding you he was all yours until he was called away again. 

The morning carries a promise of breakfast, and you can only hope you’ll wake up early enough to be the one to cook it. Knowing him, he’d be the first awake, having adapted to the hours of the early morning. You make it your mission to keep him in bed as long as possible, considering the only way he’ll rest is if you force him. He’ll pretend to hate it, but you both know he appreciates your insistence of getting him to take a break whenever he can.

It’s easy to relax with his warmth combining with yours. Your hands wrap around the arm that’s laid across you. You convince yourself that, if you hold on tight enough, you can keep him from leaving your side. You finally fall asleep, the sound of his breath in your ear and his heartbeat under your palm carrying you into hypnotic rest.

[jiminomenon]

model! karina cheers assistant! reader up

pairing: model! karina x assistant! female reader

word count: 1k+

summary: y/n was having an absolutely miserable morning, and everyone—including jimin—felt the effects of her foul mood. snapping at people left and right, she wanted nothing more than to be left alone, but of course, jimin had other plans. unwilling to deal with a sulky assistant all day, the spoiled model took it upon herself to fix y/n’s mood—whether she wanted her to or not.

from my series: the devil wears prada

y/n knew it was going to be a bad day the moment she woke up. her alarm didn’t go off, meaning she had to rush through her morning routine. her coffee machine—her lifeline—refused to work. then, as if the universe was out to get her, she stepped outside only to be met with pouring rain and no umbrella. by the time she arrived at jimin’s penthouse, drenched, exhausted, and running purely on frustration, she was already dangerously close to losing her patience.

“you’re late,” jimin commented, lounging on the couch with a cup of steaming coffee in her perfectly manicured hands. she didn’t even need coffee that morning; she just liked the aesthetic of holding it.

y/n shot her a sharp glare as she squeezed water out of her sleeves. “gee, thanks for the observation, sherlock.”

jimin raised an eyebrow at the attitude but didn’t say anything. yet.

the day only got worse from there. y/n had back-to-back calls, urgent emails, and a schedule to fix because someone (cough jimin cough) decided she didn’t feel like attending a certain shoot last minute. every little inconvenience grated on her nerves, and soon, she found herself snapping at anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way.

even the model herself.

“ugh, can you stop hovering?” y/n snapped when jimin followed her into the kitchen, watching her struggle to open a stubborn bottle of water.

jimin, who usually had a snarky comeback for everything, simply tilted her head. “you’re in a bad mood.”

“no shit.”

instead of getting annoyed like usual, jimin just hummed. “hmm. i don’t like this.”

y/n scoffed. “well, i don’t like today, but here we are.”

jimin didn’t leave her alone after that. in fact, she made it her mission to pester y/n. during meetings, she’d text her ridiculous things like ‘what if i got bangs? do u think i’d look hotter?’ or ‘i saw a dog today. it was ugly. reminded me of you.’ ‘go get princess that new limited edition cat dress from givenchy’

when that didn’t work, she started physically annoying her—poking her arm, pulling on the sleeve of her blazer, even stealing her pen when she was trying to write something down.

“jimin, i swear to god—”

“oh, look at that. you’re saying my name now instead of ‘ms. yu.’ progress!” jimin smirked.

y/n groaned, rubbing her temples. “what do you want?”

“you, but less grumpy.”

“not happening.”

jimin gasped dramatically. “so mean. what happened to my lovely assistant?”

“she’s dead. may she rest in peace.”

but of course, jimin never knew how to give up. later in the afternoon, she disappeared for a while, only to return holding—of all things—y/n’s favorite pastry from that overpriced bakery she always talked about.

y/n blinked. “where did you get that?”

“doesn’t matter.” jimin placed it in front of her. “eat it.”

y/n frowned. “why are you being nice?”

jimin rolled her eyes. “i’m always nice.”

y/n snorted. “you’re never nice.”

“and yet, here i am, doing charity work by cheering up my grumpy little assistant.”

y/n stared at her, then at the pastry, then back at her. ugh. she hated to admit it, but… it was kind of sweet. with a sigh, she finally took a bite.

jimin watched her expectantly. “better?”

y/n chewed, pretending to think. “eh. a little.”

jimin smirked. “knew it.”

y/n shook her head but couldn’t fight the small smile forming on her lips. maybe today wasn’t completely terrible. as much as y/n hated to admit it, jimin’s efforts were helping. just a little. but she wasn’t about to give the bratty model that satisfaction so easily.

jimin, however, was relentless.

“so,” jimin started as she plopped down onto the couch beside y/n, far too close for comfort. “what else do i have to do to make you stop sulking? want me to book you a vacation? buy you a new car? oh, wait—maybe you want me to drive you around in said car. imagine that, ms. assistant, getting chauffeured by me.”

y/n shot her a deadpan look. “why do you sound like a rich old man trying to solve his problems with money?”

jimin gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in fake offense. “how dare you? i am far from an old man.”

“you have the attitude of one.”

jimin narrowed her eyes. “you really are in a mood today.”

y/n sighed and leaned back, rubbing her temples. “look, i appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but i just… i need some space, okay?”

jimin frowned. she didn’t like that answer. not one bit. y/n was hers to annoy, to pester, to keep close—space was not part of their arrangement. but instead of voicing her complaints, she stayed quiet for a moment, thinking.

then, out of nowhere, she got up and disappeared into the other room. y/n didn’t think much of it at first—jimin was unpredictable like that. but a few minutes later, she returned with something in her hands.

a blanket.

before y/n could ask, jimin tossed it over her, making sure it covered her entire body.

“��what are you doing?” y/n mumbled from under the fabric.

“i’m tucking you in. obviously.”

“tucking me in? i’m not a child.”

jimin scoffed. “well, you’re acting like one.”

y/n huffed, but she was too exhausted to argue. the weight of the blanket was warm and oddly comforting. she peered up at jimin, who was looking down at her with an unreadable expression.

“…why are you being nice?” y/n finally asked.

jimin crossed her arms. “you’re annoying when you’re in a bad mood. and if this is what it takes to make you stop being annoying, then fine. i’ll allow it.”

y/n gave her a look. “wow. you really suck at being genuine.”

“and yet, here i am, taking care of your grumpy ass,” jimin quipped back.

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the tiny smile tugging at her lips. she sighed, finally letting the tension melt from her shoulders. maybe jimin’s ways were unconventional, but at the end of the day, she did make her feel better.

“thanks, i guess,” y/n muttered, barely audible.

jimin smirked. “huh? what was that?”

y/n groaned, pulling the blanket over her face. “don’t push it, yu.”

but the way jimin’s smirk softened into something almost fond did not go unnoticed.

“just rest for now, m’kay? be in a better mood when you wake up.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

i hate the way i don't hate you

for @steddielovemonth inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You

rated m | 2571 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: inspired by 10 things i hate about you but it's so short so keep that in mind, enemies to friends to lovers, time skips, getting together, falling in love, modern au

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

“Let me get this straight: you asked him out as part of a bet.”

“Mhm.”

“Because he’s insufferable and everyone in your little misfit group decided it would be funny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And your plan was to stand him up at prom so he would know how it feels to be heartbroken.”

“In a nutshell.”

“And then you fell in love with him.”

Eddie blinks at Robin, who looks like she might kill him with her bare hands. Honestly, he deserves it. He kinda hopes she makes him suffer.

“All signs point to yes,” he says.

She sighs. And then she sits down. And then sighs again.

“This is absolutely bullshit, you know that right?” She finally asks. “Steve’s a good person. He never deserved to be treated like his feelings don’t matter.”

“I know. And I should’ve known that from the beginning.”

“You fucked this up. He’s gonna hate you.”

Eddie knows that’s a good possibility. He hopes Steve is forgiving, but he knows he doesn’t deserve to ask him to be.

“If he does, I deserve it. But I came to you because I couldn’t lie anymore,” Eddie knows his reputation with his friends is on the line. He doesn’t care. “I’m gonna talk to him tonight and let him make his own decision.”

“You’re gonna tell him the day of prom that his prom date is an asshole?” Robin stands up again. “You’re gonna ruin his senior prom.”

“I’m ruining it either way. People are gonna tell him about it at prom if I don’t tell him before,” Eddie argues. “He deserves to hear it from me.”

“He deserves to not be a circus act,” Robin says, but nods. “Make sure you return your tux tomorrow. His card will get charged a penalty if it’s late.”

Eddie doesn’t tell her he already returned the tux. He figures it’s probably not the time.

He knows Steve won’t want to be near him after he tells him about the bet.

****

One month earlier

“You’d never land a guy like that anyway,” Gareth jokes. “Steve Harrington wouldn’t even glance your way let alone date you.”

“He’s so uptight, he’d laugh in your face if you even tried,” Frankie adds.

Eddie watches Steve carry Robin’s books to her locker so she can carry her trumpet case and science project.

“Wanna bet?”

****

Two weeks earlier

“You write music?” Steve asks as Eddie closes his notebook.

“I try,” Eddie smiles at him. “It’s not always good. It’s rarely good.”

“Could I hear some of it?”

“Maybe.” Eddie lights his cigarette, smirking around it as Steve’s cheeks turn a rosy pink. “Do you like metal?”

“I’ve never really listened to it,” Steve admits. “But I’d give it a shot if that’s what you wrote.”

“Come to my band’s show this weekend. I might play an original song as our encore,” Eddie says. “Might even dedicate it to you.”

The blush gets deeper.

****

The night before

“You know I used to wanna be an astronaut?” Steve says as he leans his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. “Still would if I was any good at math. I mean, I get by in class, but I’m in the easiest classes. Probably not astronaut material. Plus, I get seasick.”

Eddie laughs, something he’s done a lot with Steve. Something he never expected to be doing so much, actually.

“You could still work with NASA. Maybe you can’t go to space, but you could help people get there,” Eddie offers. “They’ve got plenty of people working in the office.”

“Yeah, but I think it would be hard to be so close, yet so far, ya know? Like I’m technically no closer to space there than I am right now. If anything, I’d be farther because I’d be stuck in a building, but here I’m with you,” Steve says simply.

Eddie leans his head on top of Steve’s, looking ahead instead of above.

His heart skips a beat when Steve’s hand rests on his knee.

“I’m glad I get to be here with you,” he says quietly.

Eddie swallows around another lie.

****

Present day

“Eddie! What’re you doing here?”

Eddie hates how excited Steve is to see him. It’s gonna make this so much harder.

His chest aches as he gives him a small, fake smile. Steve notices immediately because of course he does. Steve sees Eddie in ways his own friends don’t.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, and Eddie can hear it already in his tone, the way his body is rearing up for disappointment. Steve’s said it himself before: he’s always prepared for the other shoe to drop because everyone’s got two feet.

“Can we sit?”

“No. You can tell me whatever it is just like this.”

Eddie accepts it because arguing now isn’t going to help anything. Sitting or standing, Steve is going to be pissed at him.

“I can’t go to prom with you.”

Steve is looking at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean? Was something wrong with the tux? It’s not a big deal if you wanna go in jeans. I promise I was kidding about leaving you in a corner.”

Eddie gives an unamused laugh. “No, that’s- no. I lied to you. For over a month now. I only asked you out because my friends didn’t think you’d even talk to me, let alone agree to go to prom with me.”

Steve’s silence hurts almost as much as the tears that are gathering in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I ever even bet them that I could get you to go out with me. I’m sorry that sorry isn’t enough.”

Eddie can feel tears in his own eyes, but it’s not fair of him to cry. He caused this. He’s the reason Steve is upset. He shouldn’t get to be upset in front of him.

“Steven! The tux is pressed!” Steve’s mom yells from the front door. “Come inside so I can make sure the tailor got the sleeves right.”

Steve breathes in slowly before turning to his mom and telling her he’ll be in in a minute. He turns back to Eddie and sniffles.

“I guess I’ll see you at school.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. Really.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Steve walks into the house, leaves Eddie in the driveway.

****

Eddie paces his room.

There’s not a lot of space to do that, but he manages to wear a track in the carpet. Wayne will be home any minute asking him why he isn’t at the prom, why he isn’t with Steve.

Eddie will tell him and he’ll give him that same look he did when he told him about turning a kid away from Hellfire Club. It’s disappointment, and Eddie hates it.

The front door opens, Wayne’s footsteps echo to the kitchen while he puts away his ice pack and leftover containers from lunch, he pops open a can of beer, and then walks to Eddie’s room. He knocks on the door.

Eddie starts crying.

Wayne rushes into his room, sets his beer on the bedside table, and gathers Eddie into his arms.

“What’s goin’ on, son? Thought you’d be getting ready for your dance,” Wayne says, but it just makes Eddie cry harder.

Eventually, he calms down enough to explain.

Wayne keeps holding him because Wayne will always hold him, even when he’s disappointed in him.

“Well, he didn’t punch ya in the face,” Wayne finally says. “You apologized?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t matter. I still hurt him and he won’t forgive me.”

“You think you deserve to be forgiven?” He wasn’t asking meanly, just genuinely inquiring.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

If he’d asked earlier, he would’ve given a resounding ‘no.’ But he knows how sorry he is, and even though Steve probably never will forgive him, he does hope he will.

“If you’re really sorry, he’ll forgive ya,” Wayne settles on.

Eddie shakes his head, wipes his eyes and then his nose, frowning at the snot on his fingers. He wipes it on his shirt and falls back on his bed. Wayne laughs at him, pats his chest, and stands to leave.

“You could do something big for him,” Wayne suggests.

“Like what?”

“I dunno, you showed him that song you wrote about him yet?”

“I can’t show him that! Not now!”

“Why not? It’s about as big a declaration of love you can give.”

Eddie hates when Wayne’s right.

****

He gets Robin on board with bribery. A lot of it.

Money is definitely involved, more money than he really should spend, as well as his best weed (“it’s not for me!”) and free rides for the entire summer whenever she wants.

But she agrees to get Steve to The Hideout on Saturday night. She’s not good at lying, but she manages to tell a half-truth and Steve believes her.

Eddie’s a nervous wreck. His bandmates were read the riot act from him and from Wayne. They all apologized to Steve at school, though he didn’t really accept them.

It didn’t give Eddie much hope at all.

He’s doing it anyway.

Robin put in the effort of getting Steve here, so he’s gotta do it.

“You know ‘em and sometimes like ‘em just fine…Corroded Coffin!”

The guys all go on stage ahead of him when the crowd starts cheering. He takes one more deep breath and follows.

Gareth counts them in and they play.

It’s good, maybe one of their liveliest crowds yet. He can’t see many of the faces, but he knows Steve’s there. He saw Robin’s shirt when the lights dimmed between the first song and the second. She wouldn’t stay if Steve left.

Jeff introduces them after the third song like always, but pokes a little fun at Eddie.

“Sorry about our guitarist being a bit moody. He’s feeling deeply emotional about love,” Jeff starts the next song before Eddie can argue.

It’s a great show.

Everyone’s having fun, even Eddie.

But then the guys all sip on water and it’s Eddie’s turn to introduce his song. The song for Steve.

“Hey everyone,” Eddie starts, awkwardly. He’s not usually like this on stage. “Got a new song tonight. I wrote this for someone who I don’t deserve, but who I care about a lot. I know he’s mad and he should be. It may not fix anything, but I hope he knows that I mean every word.”

Gareth’s drums are soft for this one, just there to keep the beat with Frankie on the bass. Jeff moved out of the spotlight, still playing rhythm, but keeping the attention on Eddie while he sings.

He sings about falling for someone unexpected, wanting to create a love story better than Shakespeare. He sings about the boy who wanted to discover the stars, and the boy who wanted to hold his hand while he did. He sang about not knowing that he was capable of this kind of love, and wanting to have it forever.

When the song ends, the crowd claps, but they clearly aren’t here for the romantic ballad he just sang.

He lets Gareth count in for the next song and they go back to the loud, chest-thumping music they usually play.

He doesn’t see Robin anymore, and he decides then that if Steve left, he did everything he could for now. He can’t be more sorry than he is and he can’t force Steve to think more of him.

“Good show guys,” Jeff says as they tear down the stage. All of them are responsible for their own equipment, but they also help out the bar manager by unplugging the electrical and rolling the wires when they’re done. “And a great job on your song, Eddie.”

“Thanks,” Eddie gives him a small smile as he closes his guitar case. “Don’t know if it worked.”

“It did.”

Eddie turns at Steve’s voice, nearly falling over when he sees how good Steve looks. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and ripped jeans, something outside of his norm, probably trying to fit in with this crowd a bit. Eddie wants to kiss him.

“Steve.” Eddie isn’t sure who’s talking, but it must be him because Steve’s looking at him with shining eyes and the same smile he always gave him when he looked like he wanted to hold his hand. “You’re here.”

“Robin insisted,” Steve admits, stepping closer to Eddie. “But then I told her to head home so I could talk to you.”

“Oh.”

Steve’s mouth lifts in a smirk for a moment before he schools his features again.

“So you wrote that song for me?”

“Yeah. Is it too much?”

Steve steps closer again, only a few inches separating them now. He shakes his head. “Not too much, no. Maybe just enough.”

“Enough for you to forgive me?”

“I might be on the path of forgiveness.” Steve touches his chest, palm over his heart. “But can I ask you something?”

“Anything. Whatever you want.”

“What were you hoping to happen when you made the bet?”

Eddie has to think about that. Of all the things he’s thought about, this isn’t one of them.

Steve waits for him, though. He’s patient. One of the many amazing things about him.

“I think I just wanted to be right about you,” Eddie finally admits.

Steve nods once. “A lot of people wanna assume things about me because of who my friends were a couple years ago, and who my parents are, and how I always dress nice and act like a bitch. It’s easier to just think I’m a bad person than think I have any depth at all. Especially in high school. Even though most of us are adults now, no one really acts like it.”

“I’m extremely immature. You should probably know that if you’re gonna forgive me,” Eddie says.

“You’re not as immature as you pretend to be at school,” Steve smiles. “I’ve seen you, Ed. I know the bad boy against the grain guy isn’t all you are.”

“And I know there’s a lot more to you than your pretty face, though that’s a bonus.”

Steve kisses him and the guys all cheer for him. He’s laughing against Steve’s mouth, waving one hand at the guys to make them leave.

“Robin said you were crying when you told her,” Steve whispers against his mouth.

“She’s a traitor.”

“So you were?”

Eddie sighs. “Yes, I cried. I hated how much I knew it would hurt you to find out the truth.”

“You still have to make it up to me a little,” Steve says.

“Oh yeah? How?”

“Well, I remember something in the song about worshiping me on your knees? Or was that a weird religious reference?”

Eddie kisses Steve again, smiling so much that their teeth clack against each other almost painfully.

“I’m an atheist,” Eddie replies.

“We’ve got a long night ahead of us then, don’t we?”

Eddie groans. “I still have to help load all our stuff-”

“Dude. You were forgiven by a guy who definitely could find better than you. We can handle the stuff. Consider it more of an apology for us being dicks, too,” Jeff interrupts.

Steve grabs Eddie’s shirt and tugs him along. “I’m not gonna tell them I forgive them until tomorrow.”

“Good idea.” Eddie looks down at the way Steve’s ass fills out the jeans he’s in. “On second thought, maybe next week sometime.”

[lucygraysboy]

“umm…” billy only hums in response, scratching the nape of his neck while pondering the question. sal and carmine’s isn’t the kind of place in which he’d like to discuss what exactly happened between them in nashville and how it makes him feel whenever these memories come back to him, but at the same time he doesn’t want to give lucy gray nothing but awkward silence. “right, whatever lulu gray and billsy got up to in tennessee, that’s between them. i’m just happy they had the sense not to get past second base,” he softly assures, gulping down what’s left of his coke as if he could drown in it and save himself from this embarrassing moment. his gaze is bashful, never lingering long on her face. cheeks so warm that it’s a wonder the snow outside doesn’t begin to melt. “well, good. i mean, tom cox can be a bit shy so…” he stutters a bit, setting the now empty can of soda down on the table as his palm begins to tingle from the cold. “i ain’t ever seen nothin’ of yours either so it’s alright. we’re all good.” he should just stop talking already. he hasn’t seen anything, but it’s not like he hasn’t thought about her in that way before. the fantasy of kissing her passionately, her lips, her neck, her breasts, her belly, her thighs… laying her down on a bed covered in rose petals, candles burning all around them, and loving on her for hours and hours, basking in the sweet symphony of sounds she would make — that’s crossed his mind countless times. but he’d never admit it. he shifts a little uncomfortably in his own chair, trying to focus on counting the white tiles on the wall behind lucy gray. “hey, with all this snow outside and since we’re already basically two blocks away from central park, would you like to go sleddin’?” he wonders, awkwardly changing the subject before something even more embarrassing happens to him. “we don’t even have to buy our own sleds. there’s a guy who rents ‘em for like five bucks or somethin’.”

“billy bonney, what are you even talkin’ about?” looking at him like he’s lost his mind. THAT definitely wasn’t the answer she was expecting. now daring to blush, really might be tempting… he did NOT just imply she had her lips on his clothed tom cox. he wouldn’t just pretend and come up with something that dirty, but the realization it must be true then is awfully embarrassing. how the hell could she go actin’ like that? how’s it even possible? “maybe… drunk lucy gray was just losin’ her mind… i know that couldn’t been her.” answering slowly, angel face twitching in a sheepish smile. how does one go about… goin’ down on someone anyway? guy or girl. how is the act of it just not embarrassin’? apparently she had no shame. apparently she wanted to boldly be unashamed and untamed. her belly flutters then tightens, tingles erupting between her thighs and her chest buzzing alive and suddenly feeling the tingling need to break free from this sweater. the hard surface of the seat beneath her, now her worst enemy because anything touching her butt cheeks right now is responsible in adding to the feeling. suddenly, she knows how it happens, how people find no shame. these weird, intrusive, agitating tingles of sex drive that explode absolutely out of the blue will have you actin’ human to a wild animal in split seconds— the alcohol just amped that up no doubt. shit. scooting up, so her butt hangs off the stupid seat, “it was actually none of the above… i’ve never seen your private hood.” mumbling this confession in a low whisper — mild amusement in her eyes, swirling around the napkin with her finger against the table as doe eyes stare at it. this would be a lot easier conversation right now if he’d been born as a girl. but he’s not. he’s this tall, charming, handsome man with an adams apple, attractive big hands her eyes flicker away from the second they dare follow along his face and a significant beautiful mouth carved in it’s own alluring away she could write a million secret poems about. and she has over a decade’s worth of harbored feelings for him. so this is quite a disaster what her mind and body’s doing to her on the inside — all behind these innocent bambi eyes.

[trustmypoison]

SVT when you simp for them

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Hiiii, just saw Ateez and simping for them, can I request same for Seventeen please 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 Thank you very much🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻’

Seungcheol

Have you ever seen someone try to look smug while also blushing profusely? That’s what this would be like. He wants to be cool and say, “Of course, you love me,” but any smugness he tries to inject into the statement falls flat because of how pink his cheeks are. 

Jeonghan

Genuinely smug. If there’s any blushing at all, it’s so minimal that you might not notice. He’s absolutely going to egg you on and be like, “Uh huh, and what else?” I fear he’d be smug either way, so you might as well tell him what you really think. 

Joshua

Giggly. Not even blushing, just giggling at how sweet he thinks it is. He’ll dish it out as well - in five minutes though. He’s gotta soak up all of your lovely compliments first. 

Jun

A whiner!! Doesn’t know how to take it so he groans and tells you to stop fangirling from behind his hands as he covers his face. But if you do stop, he might peek between his fingers because he wasn’t serious. Keep going, he just can’t look at you. 

Hoshi

Melts into a puddle. I mean, just curls up into a ball against you because he’s overwhelmed by the compliments. Blushing with a big smile. Joshua needs five minutes but Hoshi needs hours to be able to properly return the simping. 

Wonwoo

Totally entertained by this. Will not blush and might not even crack a smile, doing his best to look unaffected. But he thinks you’re cute and your words are sweet. An underwhelming reaction of “Mhm, whatever you say,” but I’m not sure what you expected here. 

Woozi

Another one that’s secretly entertained by this, but whereas Wonwoo’s reaction is flat, Woozi actually does a great job of looking annoyed. He’ll be like, “Why are fangirling like this right now??” He’ll fold if you seem worried that he’s genuinely bothered, but he otherwise will act like your compliments are physically painful. 

DK

A shy baby. He has so much to say usually, but he’ll be a little flustered and soft-spoken when you do this. Later, when you’ve settled down, he’ll ask if you really meant all the nice things you said. Tell him yes!!!!

Mingyu

I think he’d genuinely be pretty smug to start, but the longer it goes on he might start to feel sort of flustered. I think he likes words of affirmation and this really feeds that need. But I think one of his preferred love languages to give is physical affection, so this just ends in him wrapped around you. 

Minghao

I think he’d be one of the few who doesn’t get flustered or shy, but at the same time isn’t super smug either. I think he’d just soak up your attention with a sweet, slightly entertained smile. He won’t fish for more simping or anything, but he’ll let you go on as long as you feel like. 

Seungkwan

Did you ever think that simping would end in a fight?? Not serious, of course. But for every statement you have, he’s going, “And what about YOU!!” Aggressive as it is, there’s a lot of sweetness in how vehemently you both simp after one another. 

Vernon

A long stare and a few blinks, and finally, a simple nod and an “okay.” I hope you didn’t expect anything more. I mean, he’s delighted by the compliments but I just don’t see him being expressive about it. He takes your simping and ranting in stride. 

Chan

This is an ego boost for him for sure, but he can’t let you know that. He’ll listen and slowly nod, sometimes looking concerned. He’s totally joking when he finally kisses your cheek and says, “You worry me sometimes.” 

[sooniebby]

What kind of thing that made your ocs get so flustered? like actually embarrassed in shy way, completely romantic/in love, maybe not in sexual way

Ah hmmmmmmmmm, imma make this one a bit longer (sfw/nsfw) male reader… obvi

Yuki — it would take a lot to make him flustered. He doesn’t show off his emotions a lot and it’s not because you don’t make him happy. He’s just not an expressive person. But I think the probably first and only time would be during a completely innocuous event.

You’d both be baking a cake for your mom’s birthday and you would just briefly joke that your mom is basically his mom now since he has been staying over every weekend. And he’d just immediately get flustered and semi excited. He wouldn’t show it a lot but his ears would get a bit red and he’d hide his face to not show his grin.

in a sexual way, literally just dress up as a sexy nurse than boom, flustered and has a massive boner.

Yubin — it’s actually really easy to get him flustered. You’d literally just smile at him. It’s how he fell for you. You both have to same class and when passing back papers, you accept turned to face him and give him a wide smile, “I didn’t mean to earsdrop, but I overheard you saying today is your birthday? Happy Birthday, Yoosung.”

Of course that’s not his name but you saying happy birthday is enough for him to basically pass out. Which he does but he was technically running on 1 hour of sleep either way so he was bound to pass out any minute. Once you’re both dating, just hugging him randomly will make him malfunction for just a second before eagerly hugging you back.

Sexual way… just flash your chest (tits) at him.

Eunjae — he doesn’t get flustered… easily. Or at least he only gets a bit embarrassed when you do something that he doesn’t expect. Mainly things that don’t matter in the long run. Like you briefly mentioning that you noticed his favorite sweater had a hole in it so you sewed it up. Just imagining you taking the time out of your busy schedule to do something that he didn’t ask… he’s going to collapse. How’d you even know it was his favorite sweater?

He’ll be all nonchalant but in his head he’s doing flips and getting ready to break your back later in bed.

Sexually… simply look up at him. Just look up at him, from any position (it works better on your knees) and he’s creaming his pants.

Mingi — reading his fics I think basically shows anything reader does make him heavily flustered? Like reader smiles at him, he’s weak. Reader picks up something for him, he’s gone. Do anything for him or even just hug him, he’s flustered. But his way of looking flustered almost makes it look like he’s angry.

But he’s not angry… just trying not to pop a boner like a teenager. So to sexually frustrate him just do the same thing… but maybe in sexier clothing.

Noeul — anything you do can make him a bit flustered. But one thing I imagine is when you two were still trainees and you had sprinted over to hug him. It would make him so flustered and in love at seeing you so happy to see him. He can’t hide his emotions, his face is immediately red and his eyes are darting around because if he looks even longer he’ll melt.

Sexually, not much. He’s not into sex like that. No kinks at all lmao

Vincent — something small would make him a bit flustered. It would be during a time you broke something of his. He’s trying his best to not yell at you because technically he should’ve told you that the bike was being renovated and that you shouldn’t go near it.

But he’s just so angry because now he’s going to have to do more work and even worse this bike isn’t his so if it doesn’t get fixed properly that’s money out of his pocket and— so he’s about to just leave so he doesn’t cuss you out when he just stiffens when he feels you hug him. You bury your face in his back and keep muttering that you’re sorry. He’s not a touchy person and even told you not to touch him unless he touches you first…

But he can’t get mad right now… you can’t see it but can only feel him gently grab your arms pulling himself free before turning around so he can hug you properly.

Sexually, he doesn’t get flustered during sex lol

Yohan — gifting him something. You had came over to him and showed him a bear keychain that honestly looked a bit ugly. He had thought you were just showing it to him until you held it close to him, a shy little smile on your face before you said it reminded you of him.

He wants to be funny and ask if you think he’s ugly but he can only blush. His representative animal is a bear so it makes sense but even then, he’s all giddy that you got him something.. that you thought of him all by yourself.

Sexually… he gets flustered during one of your performances when you were wearing a choker that was connected with chains to your pants belt hoop. He wanted to pull it

Riki — it was a bit harder for him but I think it’d be when you are both walking around. You come across a cat and immediately start playing with it. Riki doesn’t give two shits about it but lets you play as he goes on his phone.

He’s about to ask if you guys can leave until you call his name. He looks up and sees you smiling wildly at him, holding the cat right beside your face

“Don’t we look the same?” You’d say, grinning as the cat, a chubby thing, began purring despite you holding him up underneath his front legs. Riki just drops his phone before he can even think of a sentence.

Sexually, you simply existing makes him horny

Xavier — I think he gets flustered easily like Yubin and Mingi. You doing anything for him makes him so flustered and falling in love with you more. But the major thing was when he was struggling with this outdated printer that wouldn’t print out his picture.

He’s about to just give up as another error screen shows up when you come up behind him, not even sparing him a glance as you just begin working on the printer. He doesn’t even pay attention to what you’re doing but to your face, at how concentrated you look.

When you’re done, you look up at him and he can’t help but flinch from your gaze. He’s embarrassed but then also so heavily into you… for simply helping him with a printer as it finally spits out his picture…

Which was a picture of a nude man for his photography class. Whoops.

Sexually… lowkey can’t think of anything, he gets flustered if you suck his cock lol

Yejun — he’s always flustered. But the major one was when you got him a gift on Christmas. He had told you he didn’t need anything but you still gave him one. In all honestly, he didn’t expect anything he’d really like. And you gave him a stuff animal—a black cat.

It wasn’t anything he’d ever wanted but he couldn’t help but laugh, mostly in embarrassment but even a little flustered. Because that meant you had noticed him staring at it at the claw machine… but he was staring at it because he knew you liked stuff animals.

You getting it for him… it just made him feel so flustered at the thought you watch him when he doesn’t notice. But it was even funnier when you attempted you had just pay a kid to get it since you wasted thirty dollars trying to get it yourself

Sexually… he only just flustered the first time you guys had sex

Way too long but lots of fun, thanks for the ask

[suzukiblu]

Day six of February’s first weekly WIP behind the cut; “the puzzle trap sex-room”. content warnings: past grooming, past sexual abuse, past statutory rape, past dubious consent, CURRENT unhealthy coping mechanisms, immediate fallout of sex pollen/death trap-induced sexual coercion, and a POV character who does not understand what the problem with any of that is, he’s FINE, Jesus, lay off already and let him live his life. and like, definitely internalized victim-blaming that said POV character is not actually recognizing as that. So uh, you know, just Kon’s … entire pre-YJ dating history, pretty much? Pretty much that, yeah. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He’s never, ever felt good about the way Superman’s looked at him. 

“Right now I’m worried about you,” Superman says, because Superman thinks he’s useless, Superman thinks he’s stupid, Superman thinks he’s a fucking moron who needs worried about and can’t just take fucking care of himself like he hasn’t been taking care of himself for his entire fucking life! “Just–can you try to stop–” 

“Fuck you!” Superboy yells much louder at him, and maybe some shit falls off the ceiling and maybe the floor cracks out a little farther and a little worse, but he doesn’t give a fuck either way. He doesn’t care what Superman wants him to fucking stop, nobody cares when he wants them to stop or slow down or just even fucking wait, so–so why the fuck should he care when anyone wants him to?! 

Everyone wants him to. They want him to shut up, sit down, wait for shit–it’s never just easy, never even just simple, he always has to get better and better and better and no one likes what he just fucking is and–and– 

( “Mouthy bitch.” )

Superman doesn’t even listen when he talks. He knows–he knows he talks too much, he knows he talks about himself too much, but what the fuck else is he supposed to talk about? He doesn’t know anything but himself, and Superman–and Superman never– 

He talks about himself too much, but Superman never talks about himself at all.

He’s really–stupid, Superboy realizes. He is fucking stupid. He just–he just wanted–

He doesn’t even know what he fucking wanted. Just–he wanted Superman to think he maybe wasn’t so stupid. Maybe think something about him wasn’t–wasn’t just a shitty xerox made by shitty people, wasn’t . . . 

Superman doesn’t think anything about him, though, except apparently that he’s fucking useless. 

He tells Superman all sorts of shit every time he sees him, and Superman doesn’t even listen or bother to remember or really, like–really even say anything back, ever. Everything Superboy knows about him he got from Cadmus or the news or fucking heresay, not–not–not him. 

He’s so stupid, that he thought that’d ever change. 

He’s so stupid, and no one listens when he says to stop or slow down, they just yank his fucking hair or don’t let go of his arm or pin him down and–and–and they’re just fucking mean! Why’s everyone always so fucking mean about fucking everything?! 

Why’s everyone always so mean to him? 

He really, really tries, so–so why’s everyone–why’s everyone always–? 

( “Fine, whatever, just you’d better have a fuckin’ condom in your stupid Bat-belt.” )

“Superboy,” Superman says cautiously, lifting a placating hand up between them, and Superboy doesn’t even wanna hear that right now. “I just mean if you’re not careful right now, the cave might collapse.” 

The hand Superman’s holding up between them is bruised. 

And Superman really thinks he’s that stupid and useless and blind and reckless that he’d just accidentally cause a fucking cave-in in the middle of somebody else’s stupid base, even if that somebody’s a fucking asshole like fucking Batman. On top of that, cause a fucking cave-in with a pair of baseline humans in the place and not being fucking rockproof. 

Of course he fucking thinks that. 

“Can you calm down for me, please?” Superman asks in that bullshit quiet voice he only uses for people who are fucking actively traumatized, and Superboy really fucking hates him right now. He doesn’t wanna do anything for him. He doesn’t wanna do anything for anyone anymore. He’s so sick of fucking doing shit for people and nobody doing shit for him! 

Robin couldn’t even be nice to him when he was sucking his fucking dick for him, for fuck’s sake. 

Superboy wouldn’t even care about that shit if it hadn’t been everything he’d asked Robin not to do that he’d been so fucking mean about. 

( “The TTK’s only skintight, man, it doesn’t really cover the hair the same way, so could you maybe not yank it like–OW, fucker!” )

“Fuck you,” Superboy repeats, his voice all choked again in a way he hates almost as much as he hates fucking Superman right now. “I don’t wanna do shit for you, you wouldn’t even let go of my fucking arm. Just fuck off and lemme go home, I don’t give a fuck what you think anyway, especially not about who I fuckin’ date.” 

“It’s not dating if she’s taking advantage of you, Kid,” Superman says tightly, and Superboy hates him even fucking more. 

“She’s not, dammit!” he snarls. “She’s not like that! And even if she were, why would I even fucking care, at least she’s actually nice to me!” 

“Kid,” Superman says, looking pained. “That’s not–why would you even say that?” 

“Because she’s fucking NICE to me!” Superboy roars at him, clenching his fists again as his gut and chest both knot up painfully, and the floor cracks a lot worse. 

He still doesn’t give a fuck. 

“You keep saying that,” Batman observes, and Superboy bristles reflexively at hearing the sound of that bullshit “neutral” trap of a tone again and definitely, definitely hates him too. “What does ‘nice’ entail, exactly?” 

“None of your fucking business, asshole,” he bites off sharply, feeling hot with fury and sick with nausea and just so fucking–just so fucking angry. 

Tana doesn’t lie to him. She doesn’t treat him like a kid or try to shut him up every time he opens his mouth; she doesn’t want him to be just stupid muscle or an attack dog she can yank around by the choke chain. She wants him–she wants him to be better, so they can really be together. So he can stop fucking up so much all the time and–and just–she wants him to be better, and she tries to help him be better. 

Nobody else does that, when he fucks up. They just roll their eyes or say something shitty or write him off or treat him like an idiot or a kid or an idiot kid or–or just ignore him, and forget he even fucking exists when he's not right there in front of them. They don’t think about him when he’s not around. 

Tana does, though. Tana–Tana helps him. And she takes care of him. And she fucking likes him and she cares if he gets better or not and–and–

And she's nice to him. 

Tana thinks he can be better, when literally everybody else in the whole fucking world is just surprised whenever he doesn't fuck up too bad or break anything. 

Fuck, Robin thinks he’s broken, even. Thinks he should go to fucking therapy, for fuck’s sake. 

Robin couldn't even tell him he didn't wanna use a fucking condom.

Superboy really–he’d really wanted to use a fucking condom, or at least for Robin to not have thought he was stupid enough that he could just lie to him about not having one, or at least to have not been stupid enough that he’d actually believed him lying to him about not having one. 

( “Huh. You’re actually even more of a whore than I thought you were, Kid.” )

[snowflake194]

As the Sky Split Open (~1300 words) x

“What are these?”

It’s been raining all week, the sky stretched grey and endless, and Eddie knows it’s just a matter of time before it starts to again. But right now—right now it’s not.

It’s not raining when Eddie takes the baggie of baked something from Buck and turns it over in his hands and so if the universe is giving him this small moment of peace before the storm, he’s going to take it.

“Chocolate chip peanut butter Snickerdoodles,” Buck tells him proudly before turning a little sheepish when Eddie gives him a look and then adds: “Jee came up with the recipe a few weeks ago. It’s actually not that bad. Surprisingly.”

And that’s just—well. It can’t be bad, can it?

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course,” Buck shrugs effortlessly and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. “Try not to devour them on the way, though. Save some for Chris. And—and text. When you get there.”

Eddie inhales sharply through his nose, frozen in it for a moment too long, so he might as well take it to make sure his early breakfast doesn’t spill out onto the asphalt when he eventually parts his lips and lets out a choked, “Yeah. I will. Thank you.”

“You said that already,” Buck’s brow furrows slightly and Eddie suddenly has the very real and very terrifying urge to let it anyway.

Because it’s impossible to look at him. At the bright blue of his best friend’s eyes that are daring to bore a hole in Eddie’s soul even on the greyest of days like this one.

“No, I mean—” he swallows instead, fingers tightening around the bag as he lets something else out: “Thank you. For everything. Honestly, I don’t know where I’d be right now without you. This move probably would’ve happened before I even finished my probie year.”

He laughs and it’s a self deprecating thing but it’s also the only kind he has right now.

“Yeah, same.” It’s quiet when Buck says it, not as self deprecating as Eddie was expecting but maybe just as honest. “I mean not with the move but um…”

He looks down, shifting on his feet, and Eddie is caught in this quiet moment before the storm, unable to do anything but watch it come closer and see the way Buck licks his lips, turning the words over in this overthinker brain of his before he lets out: “Can I say something? Since we’re here and… Can I say something and can you promise not to make it a big deal?”

Eddie shrugs. He doesn’t know he’s in the eye of it. “Sure.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“No—I mean. I love you,” Buck repeats but the words have an entire different meaning now. “I am currently in��love with with you, and I know that’s weird for you to hear but I wanted you to… hear it. Probably not the best timing though, but y’know.”

And that’s not fair. Because How can Eddie not make a big deal out of it when he’s long since lost hope that Buck would ever love him the same way he does Buck? How can he not when he’s long since convinced himself that Buck would never be a part of that joy he’s learning to allow himself to want and to have, not in the way he wants him to be. But how can he let that confession out, when he’s the one leaving?

And when Buck shrugs, looks at the ground, rocking on his hills, Eddie doesn’t have the time to think of a better response than the one that inevitably leaves his lips and he knows he’ll regret it later when the one that finds it’s way out is:

“Buck I gotta go…”

“I know,” Buck nods. “You should uh—you should go. I just needed to say it to your face while you’re still here and—y’know, not over the phone.”

Eddie gets that. He wishes he was brave enough to do it himself. He thinks maybe if it was any other time he would find it in him eventually, but he does need to get going if he wants to be in El Paso before night comes.

So Eddie stays quiet, and then Buck’s shaking his head frantically but still doesn’t meet his eyes, and he must think Eddie is breaking his promise and he probably is but Buck doesn’t need to know that so when Buck says—

“No, hey. You gotta go. And you promised.”

—it breaks Eddie’s heart to just leave it at that.

It’s the coward’s move, but it’s better than Buck knowing the truth and watching Eddie leave him anyway. Because this thing Eddie is feeling—this thing he’s been carrying inside for longer than he cares to admit—it’s not the kind of feeling Eddie would walk out on. And it’s not the kind of feeling he wants Buck to think it is when he does.

It’s not raining but the air is thick and wet and cold so it’s a near thing, and when Eddie pulls Buck into a hug, forces his head up to rest over his shoulder, grips him tight and breathes him in for what he’d never want to be the last time—there’s dampness on his cheeks when he pulls away.

He chooses to blame it on the air and not the stinging of his eyes.

It’s not raining when he closes the truck door behind him after another promise to call when you get there, Eddie, but the cold doesn’t bite the same way anymore, and his cheeks are still wet, and his eyes still sting, and so he can’t blame it on the air anymore.

It’s not raining, but there’s this heavy cloud around him that refuses to let the sunlight in. The one that he left standing on the curb and knows would blind him if he was brave enough to send a glance at its direction in the rearview mirror.

It’s not raining when he leaves his quiet suburban neighborhood.

But it is when he makes a U-turn a few blocks later.

It’s raining hard when he slams the door closed and runs up the walkway back to his own front door and it’s raining hard when Buck opens it with wide eyes and a confused look on his face.

“Eddie—what—?”

Eddie still isn’t sure about a lot of things. About this move or about how he’s going to fix everything with his kid and get him to come home, wherever that might be, as much as Eddie wants it to be LA. He doesn’t know a lot of things but he does know one thing and right now it’s the only one that matters and it’s this:

“I’m in love with you too,” he tells him on a shaky exhale. “I think I’ve always been in love with you. And—and I’m coming back, I promise, and we’ll have all the time in the world to figure it all out, but I needed to say it to your face before—”

It’s still raining when Buck crosses the threshold, stepping into the pouring rain with him and it’s still raining when he grabs Eddie by the collar of his shirt, drags him closer like a promise of his own, and kisses him.

It’s still raining when Eddie feels Buck’s hands shaking against the nape of his neck and the warmth of Buck’s cheeks against the palms of his own. Feels the shape of plump pink lips curling into a smile against his.

And it’s still raining.

But Eddie’s not as cold anymore.

Not with the sun shining through his closed eyelids, wrapping him in it’s arms.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I have been trying to read 'how nightmare became dadmare' on ao3 because a friend wanted me to since it's apparently the best found family bad sanses out there (I'm usually not a fan of the dynamic) and I've been struggling so much...

they keep ignoring killer. horror is barely a character, he's forgotten most of the time. at times I feel like the whole fic is more about dust than nightmare despite the title. I had to bail when nightmare literally ignored killer giving him vital information for no valid reason despite killer being his right hand man.

this is why I don't like the dynamic. every reason why. if this is the best out there I don't want to know what else they got going on.

sorry for the rant the frustration got to me

I feel it’s often very overlooked in the fandom that killer is not canonically nightmare’s right hand—it’s literally just him and nightmare, cross and xchara were there maybe before they ditched too and a murder sans variant showed up once and then kinda disappeared, killer refers to a mysterious “the others” at one point—but for the most part it’s just him and his boss.

And Nightmare definitely doesn’t listen to him or his advice—even if that comic suggests that perhaps that is something that would change with time, the more killer proves himself. Doesn’t mean he’s exempt from being choked unconscious if he speaks out of turn or has a slip in his words, however.

What im tryna say is that it’s pretty obvious that Killer would never become Nightmare’s right hand if he didn’t prove himself and earn it. Which means it’s absolutely ridiculous for killer to be nightmare’s right hand and then for nightmare to just disregard his advice—not unless that’s supposed to be a character flaw of his, his pride and hubris causing him to overlook killer again, maybe. Doesn’t seem to be the case in this fic though.

The idea that Killer becomes Nightmare’s right hand and that position holds weight only because Killer was there first or was there the longest..is just weird to me. That’s just bad leadership. Let Killer earn that spot through his own intelligence, determination, skills, and drive for either something new or control—through displays of dedication and loyalty.

Let him prove himself trustworthy and knowledgeable. Let Nightmare train him and encourage him, let Nightmare reward him for the effort and dedication he has shown to the King’s goals. It’s a lot more interesting than…”Well, he was here the longest..” or “he was here first,” in situations where these ranks are supposed to mean something. Or at least, if it means something to Killer.

Why would he ever leave Nightmare when he’s done and said so much to earn what he has? Searching for something new, the means and privilege and resources to follow wherever his curiosity and impulses and boredom take him? To have control and power over something in his life, for once? To ensure his own safety, security and survival?

Wouldn’t it be so much harder to give up what he has when he’s fought tooth and nail, killed and tortured, threw others under the bus—for his own self preservation— not wanting to be outdone by anyone else and thus deemed useless enough to not warrant keeping around, to be deemed worthless enough to have his right to exist revoked—for it? His own curiosity? Amusement? Feeling of control, even if it’s all ultimately meaningless in the end?

People should let killer be ruthless more often. Even if it means wielding cruelty as a tool.

But yeah, a lot of bad sans family fics have the misfortune of turning into the dust sans and nightmare sans show ft. those two other guys over there ig. I was reading that fic like awhile back, but I stopped a while ago, so I don’t know how it ends or goes on—so I can’t say anything about this fic specifically when I can’t recall anything about it rn.

[zenithangelic]

Hai could I get fo4 complete reaction to the sole survivor being very big on giving praise? Like they're constantly complementing the companions but not in an overbearing way :) thank uuu

FO4 Companions reacting to the Sole Survivor's praise:

Cait

At first, she’s incredibly suspicious. Compliments? From someone who doesn’t want anything? She’s waiting for the catch.

Once she realises it’s genuine, she gets flustered and awkward, brushing off praise with a “Yeah, yeah, don’t go getting soft on me.” But she starts subtly craving it.

Eventually, she starts preening a bit when she hears it, standing a little taller. “Damn right I’m good at this,” she’ll say, with a small but proud smile.

Codsworth

Absolutely adores it. He lives to serve, and knowing Sole appreciates him fills him with robotic joy.

“Oh, you are too kind! I do try my best, of course!” He starts adding a little flourish when serving them tea, trying to impress them.

Might even get a little smug when others don’t get as much praise. “Ah, not everyone can be as meticulous as yours truly!”

Curie

Delighted and fascinated by Sole’s positivity, especially when directed at her scientific skills.

“Oh! You really think my work is amazing? That is… oh, you make me blush!” She absorbs every word like a sponge, eager to impress them further.

Over time, she starts paying the praise forward, complimenting others in the group in an adorable, awkward way: “Yes, Cait, you… hit that man so well! Such force!”

Paladin Danse

Completely unsure of how to process it at first. Praise was always tied to performance in the Brotherhood, not simple appreciation.

Starts standing up straighter, subtly shifting into parade rest every time he is praised. “That’s… good to hear, soldier.”

He may not say it, but it means something to him. Eventually, he starts seeking approval in small ways, hoping to get an extra “Outstanding work” when he pulls off something impressive.

Deacon

Smug as hell about it at first. “Oh, stop it, you charmer, you’ll make a spy blush.”

But deep down? It gets to him. Compliments aren’t something he gets often—especially not genuine ones.

He starts responding more sincerely over time, quietly muttering, “Y’know, you’re not too bad yourself.” That’s Deacon for I’m touched beyond words.

Dogmeat

Is a dog. Therefore, absolutely loves the praise and thrives on it.

Tail-wagging intensifies with every “Good boy!” until he’s practically vibrating.

Starts bringing the Sole Survivor even more random junk from the wasteland, tail wagging proudly as he receives his due recognition.

Gage

At first? Suspicious as hell. Compliments in Nuka-World usually meant someone wanted something.

Eventually, he starts accepting them at face value, though he plays it cool: “Yeah, well, I am pretty damn good at what I do.”

But if he ever hears a genuine “I trust you,” that’s it. That’s the moment he realises he’s actually loyal to them, no strings attached.

John Hancock

Drinks it up like the finest chems. “Oh, you really do know how to sweet-talk a ghoul.”

Starts playfully fishing for them. “I dunno, was that a badass move or the most badass move?”

But after a while, he stops playing—he just enjoys hearing them say nice things. It reminds him that he’s worth appreciating.

Robert MacCready

At first? Incredibly awkward. “Uh… thanks? I guess?” He’s not used to compliments that aren’t sarcastic.

Eventually, he starts mumbling a quiet “Thanks” and actually appreciating it. He never realised how much he craved validation.

If they ever tell him he’s a great dad? That’s it. He’s done. Might actually tear up.

Nick Valentine

Smirks at first, taking it in stride. “Careful, kid. A fella might start thinkin’ you like having him around.”

But deep down? It means a hell of a lot. People don’t usually appreciate him as more than an old synth detective.

Eventually, he starts throwing it right back. “Well, you’re not half bad yourself, partner.” And from him, that’s high praise.

Piper Wright

Blushes furiously at first, brushing it off. “Pfft, come on, you’re making me sound cooler than I am.”

Eventually, though? She starts believing it. Starts walking with a bit more confidence, feeling like she is as capable as they say she is.

She starts writing about them in a new way—not just as a legend, but as a genuinely good person.

Preston Garvey

Blinks the first time they compliment him, looking genuinely surprised. “You really mean that?”

He’s so used to being the one lifting everyone else up—it takes him a while to accept that someone wants to do the same for him.

Eventually, he starts smiling more. “Thanks, General. That means a lot.” And it really, really does.

Strong

Confused at first. Why is human saying nice things? What is this strange behavior?

Eventually, decides it is a human battle custom and accepts it. “YES. STRONG IS GOOD SMASHER.”

Might even start attempting his own version of praise: “HUMAN… IS GOOD TOO. NOT AS STRONG AS STRONG. BUT GOOD.”

X6-88

Is initially just... silent. He doesn’t know how to react. Compliments aren’t part of his programming.

Eventually, he just nods at them. “Noted.” But his tone softens over time.

He never outright asks for it, but if they ever stop praising him? He might just subtly start working harder for it.

Ada

Initially confused but appreciative. “That is… unexpected. Most humans do not take the time to compliment machines.”

Over time, she begins to recognise it as genuine appreciation and responds in kind. “Your leadership is commendable. I am… grateful to be part of this.”

Though she may not have emotions like a human, her tone becomes just a touch warmer when speaking to Sole, like she’s learning what it means to feel valued.

Automatron

Default programmed response: “Thank you for your feedback.”

But if they keep it up, the bot might start adapting its speech patterns. “Analysis: Positive reinforcement detected. Conclusion: You are… kind.”

If modified with a personality matrix, the bot might get cocky. “Yes, yes, I am the pinnacle of engineering excellence. Carry on, human.”

Old Longfellow

Grumbles about it at first. “Damn fool, ain't no need to butter me up. Just doin’ what I always done.”

But over time, he starts getting used to it. Starts looking forward to Sole’s words, even if he won’t admit it.

The real moment of breakthrough? When he finally mutters, “Heh. Y’ain’t so bad yourself, kid.” That’s Longfellow for I respect the hell outta you.

Porter Gage

At first? Suspicious as hell. Compliments? That ain't how the real world works. “Yeah, yeah, what angle you workin’, boss?”

But once he realises Sole is just… like that, he starts soaking it in. “Damn. Not used to hearin’ that kinda thing. Feels… nice, I guess.”

Eventually, he starts giving them a nod of approval in return. “Gotta say, boss—you got a way of makin’ folks wanna follow ya. Guess I picked the right side after all.”

♡If you liked this fic, please consider buying me a coffee! Ko-fi ♡

[chuellas]

Valerie | V is for Vouyeurism

⤷ Ft. Jouno Saigiku & Suehiro Teccho

V. A. L. E. N. T. I. N. E

Warnings | Fem!reader, N.SFW, 18+, vouyeurism, use of the names “Pet” and “Baby”, masturbation (Tecchou), unprotected sex, mild orgasm denial, creampie, AHAHAHA I THINK THATS IT, WC: 1.2k

A/N | Here it is, the 1st of 9 Valentine’s Day specials ^.^ I’m actually extremely proud of how this one came out considering I’ve never really written anything like this before

A hand sneaks around to your lower abdomen and pushes lightly, applying pressure in the most euphoric way possible, pressing himself further into you as if he was trying to mold himself to your insides. Your head lolls back into Jouno’s pale and freckled shoulder, eyes glazed over and lidded from the electricity he’s sending throughout your body. You distantly hear the way he clicks his tongue in disapproval. Jouno removes his hand from your stomach, gone just as quickly as it had been placed there, and you let out a whine but it dies halfway through your throat when he roughly grabs your face and lifts your head to look across the room to his fellow Hunting Dog. 

“What did I say about looking away from him, Pet?” His other hand has a vice grip on your hips, stopping your movements, forcing you to keep his length warm but cease the friction he’d previously been stirring up inside of you. 

You don’t give him an intelligible response, instead a bubbled sob escapes past your lips in frustration. Jouno, despite his usually aloof demeanor, was not usually this cruel in the  particular setting. You’re not sure if you like it or not, although the way you clench around him when he calls you pet is quite telling of where you stand with this relatively new attitude of his. 

Another click of his tongue and he’s turning his head to look at Tecchou. “What about you? Do you remember what I told her?”

You finally look at the brunette, really look at him, for the first time since Jouno had stuffed you full with his cock. Your third party looks just as much of a wreck as you feel and you think Jouno is getting off on the fact that he has both of you in absolute ruins. Tecchou’s brow is covered in beads of sweat, his lips are parted, eyes glossy, and his hand is fisting his own leaking cock. You watch him with razor sharp focus now, drinking in just how enticing he looks at this moment, noticing the way the beads of sweat on his abdomen roll down his abs and landing on his thighs.

Is it really that hot in here? Or is he just that worked up?

Jouno lets out a sigh of frustration. “I asked you a question, Tecchou.”

You can practically taste the frustration that lined Jouno’s tone, his already thin patience waning even more at having to repeat himself. You watch the wheels turning in the larger man’s head as he comes out of haze to process Jouno’s words. It takes him a few more minutes and you can tell the man behind you is getting more irritated with each passing second.

“I- right. ‘Said if she doesn’t… keep her eyes on me, you won’t let either of us cum…” Tecchou’s voice comes out breathy and strained.

Your line of sight shifts back down towards where he’s stroking himself and you watch the way he twitches at the thought of having to hold back. You feel Jouno’s head turn towards you, his arm tightening around your waist and hand pressing into your abdomen once again as you watch someone who isn’t your boyfriend intimately touch himself. Somehow it felt natural, nothing about this felt wrong, as if you’re meant to watch Tecchou like this with his colleague. 

Then his answer registers and you’re babbling before you even really know what’s happening. “No- wait- Jouno, please… I didn’t mean to look away, you just felt so good. Please…I’ll listen, I promise I will. Just don’t stop, please, please, please…”

Your unabashed begging causes Jouno’s lips to curl into a sly grin, clearly pleased with your immediate and desperate reaction. The Hunting Dog coos behind you and drops his head down to your shoulder and bites down as he grinds his hips into you, finally creating more friction. You make sure to keep your eyes on Tecchou this time, clearly having learnt your lesson, as your mouth falls open and you let out a stunned moan.

“O-Oh my god- Fuck, please, Baby. More, need more of you…” You’re so worked up that even with your eyes opened and glued to the brunette your vision blurs, static crawling in at the edges, softening with the tears forming at your waterline.

Jouno keeps quiet but finally gives you exactly what you want. He grabs your hips and moves you up almost all the way off of his length then slams you back down to grind into you in the most delicious way possible. your ears ring and you think you might be screaming but you’re not sure, everything is muffled. You try to blink away the tears, not caring anymore if they spill, which they do. You desperately need to see Tecchou right now, you want to see how affected he is by the sight before him, by the way Jouno fucks you into him and the way you sob from the incredible feeling of it all.

As the tears roll down your cheeks you manage to clear your eyesight enough to find the other Hunting Dog using his hand to mimic Jouno’s movements. The thought of him imagining his hand is your cunt sends you over the edge. You don’t give Jouno or Tecchou any warning before your walls are closing in on Jouno’s cock that’s still stirring inside of you. He lets out a grunt of disapproval when he can’t move properly anymore, the vice grip you have on him making it difficult. The noise he makes is broken and you didn’t realize it before but he was a lot closer to his own release than he had previously let on. All at once you’re no longer the only one cumming as the man under you starts trembling and you feel him twitching inside of you -- even in your haze you can feel him spill inside of you.

Tecchou’s whimpers bring your attention to his predicament, his rushed words gaining the attention of Jouno, who was previously occupied with watching your mixed fluids spill out of you, now stilled and listening intently as if he was still twitching and cumming inside of you. “Jouno…I need to- You told me to wait but- Shit- How long do I have to?” 

You don’t need to look back to know Jouno is grinning from ear to ear. He gingerly picks you up, chuckling at the mewl you let out when he slips himself out of you. You’re set on your hands and knees, leaking cunt on full display for both men. The white haired Hunting Dog spreads his hand in between your shoulder blades and pushes your front into the mattress. His hand then grazes down your spine and travels through your messy folds to spread the makeshift lubricant across your ass cheeks. 

“I suppose you should be awarded for listening. Come here and take your reward, she’s all warmed up for you.”

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 3)

Agatha and you have a talk about the future

Word count: 4k

Warnings: 69, oral, smut, angst (hopefully not as much), why would you ever talk about feelings/problems when you could just fuck instead

“What? What part?” you ask, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears. “If it’s the City, it’s fine, that’s not far away, you could even stay here.” 

Agatha purses her lips. “It’s in Albany.” 

Your stomach drops. Two hours away by car on a good day, about four by train. Agatha has a pitiful look on her face and you want to scoff. 

Of course she’s feeling sorry for you. 

“Honey,” she starts, cool and calm as ever and it makes you fucking enraged. She reaches out to touch you again — why does she keep trying to do that? why doesn’t she realize that she isn’t going to fix anything? — but you shove her aside and scramble off the couch, beginning to pace with your head in your hands. 

Is this better than the affair? She still lied to you. She still didn’t tell you about it, she’s still looking to get out. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you demand, pausing to look at her. 

Her jaw tightens. “I didn’t — I didn’t want to before it got real. I wasn’t even sure I was going to go, but my friend reached out and it’s a really good opportunity. The company took me out to dinner last night as an informal interview and I ended up staying the night. I didn’t think you’d come here, I thought you were mad at me or something. Baby, I was really worried about you.” 

In any other situation, you’d feel touched by her concern, but it really just pisses you off even more. This isn’t about you. “I thought you were having an affair,” you say again and her face falls. 

“I would never—”

You don’t even want to hear it. “Look, don’t change the subject, okay? The point is, you did this huge thing without even telling me and now — what? You’re moving to New York?” 

Now she seems unable to meet your eyes, an uncharacteristic shyness radiating off her. “I haven’t even gotten the job yet.”

Your mind starts to whirl with the possibilities. “If you get it, are you going to take it?” 

There’s a thick silence that hangs over you two for a moment and you can see the vein in her forehead pulse as she thinks about it. But her hesitation is all the answer you need. 

“Okay,” you breathe. You don’t even know where your head is at — you’re so fucking mad, but you’re also so relieved that she isn’t cheating, but then now there’s this wrench that could possibly mean the end of things. You’re not going to let that happen. Dropping to your knees in front of her and finally touching her of your own accord with your palms flat on her legs, you earnestly look at her. “We can…we can figure it out, we will figure it out. I can come down on the weekends or you can come here or — I can transfer! I’ll transfer to somewhere in New York and we can get an apartment, just the two of us, and obviously I won’t be much help with the rent because it’s expensive as shit there—”

Agatha pulls you up by your cheeks and kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose yourself in the feeling of her lips against yours and you moan softly, everything slipping away for just a moment. In these five seconds, it’s just the two of you and nothing else can come between you. 

But then she breaks away and sighs heavily, resting her forehead against yours. “You just started school here,” she says gently. “I can’t make you give that up. Don’t you like it?”

You shrug lazily. “It’s the first week. I’m not too attached. I’m sure somewhere there will be just as good.” 

“What about your parents? What would you tell them?” 

Why does it feel like she doesn’t want you there? You can’t help the frown tugging on your lips. “I’ll just say that I don’t like it at Westview. I’m sure I can come up with something. They’ll just want me to be happy.” Agatha makes you happy, but there’s a flicker of doubt growing in your stomach.

She cups your cheek and leans back so you’re able to see her eyes. They’re blue as the ocean, full of emotion, and glassy. “Why don’t you give it a few months, hm? I don’t want you to throw away your school and your family just for me. If you really don’t like it, then we can talk.”

“What if I just drop out of school and become your trophy wife? I’ll be such a good one, I’d wear nothing but an apron all day and make your favorite foods and then I can sit on your strap while you eat dinner.” You play it off like a joke, but deep down, you would be more than willing. You hope she says yes. 

Agatha huffs out a laugh and sniffs, tracing a finger down the skin of your face like she’s trying to memorize it. “Wear a short little maid outfit that just happens to ride up and show off your bare cunt when you’re on your knees cleaning the floor?” 

You hum and close your eyes in pure bliss at the thought. “See, now you get it. It would be so perfect, right? 

“So perfect,” she agrees, but her smile lingers until it’s wistful. There’s a longing pang inside you, one that threatens to tear you open, but you push it down. “I know I haven’t gotten it yet, but I won’t take it,” she says quietly after a moment and your brows furrow in confusion. “If you don’t want me to take it, I won’t.” 

Every single morsel of your body is screaming for you to ask her to stay. It would be so easy, and then you could just pretend that none of this — the suspicion, the lies, the sneaking around — never happened. Everything could go back to the way it was before. 

But the slightest fear that she would start to resent you for it creeps into the back of your mind. Sure, she might not mind at first, but over time when her job here gets old and she’s unhappy, she’s going to blame you. She’s going to start to hate you for holding her back, and what if you’re not worth it? 

The last thought hits you like a punch to the gut. Are you enough to keep her content if she stays? Are you enough to keep her happy? 

You’re paralyzed and she’s looking at you expectantly, like it’s an easy fucking decision. You want to complain that it’s not fair for her to put this on you, that she should want to be with you so badly that she willingly gives up the new position for you, but maybe she’s having the same doubts.

The only thing you know is that you don’t want to end up like your parents, with a loveless marriage and a cold, empty house despite the family living in it and the bitter silence of words left unsaid haunting every moment. You don’t want this to become an open wound that festers until Agatha hates you for it. 

“If it’s a better job and if you want it, you should take it,” you say, almost surprised by how eerily calm your voice sounds. 

Agatha looks taken aback for just the slightest moment but nods. “You’re sure?” 

No! Stay with me! I fucking love you! 

“Yeah,” you rasp and she bends down to kiss you again, so sweetly that it hurts. She murmurs something against your lips but you don’t even think to ask what she says because you can’t stop the nausea climbing up your throat. 

You jump back and run to the bathroom before vomiting in the toilet. You sink to the floor, shaking and sweating and trembling, and you’re vaguely aware of Agatha’s hands in your hair, holding it back, and telling you that everything is going to be alright. Is it?

She gets a wet washcloth and holds it against your head while you don’t move from your position, waiting to see if you have to puke again. 

“Had too much to drink last night,” you mutter, feeling like you’re drunk all over again, when she asks if you’re feeling okay. “Thought you were cheating.”  

You hear a heavy sigh behind you and tears prick your eyes. Is she disappointed? Does she think you’re being just a stupid kid? “I wouldn’t, honey. I wouldn’t do that. I promise. I—” She stops and strokes your hair instead.

It feels like there’s something she’s not saying, but maybe you’re just reading into it. 

And then there’s your I love you while she was fucking you, still fresh in your mind. Do you say it again? Do you ask if she heard it? Or just wait until she says it first?

If she does. You can’t get these stupid insecurities and doubts out of your mind and it’s killing you. 

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?” she asks gently and you shake your head. “Come on, why don’t we get you into the shower and then into bed?”

You want to protest just to be petulant, but you’re just so fucking tired. “Okay, mommy,” you say and she sharply inhales, but pretends to be unaffected. Good to know that you can still get to her after you look like you’ve just been through hell. 

She turns the water on and you numbly wait until she guides you up and helps you undress before you step into the shower. You almost buckle to the ground but Agatha holds you up, the sleeves of her blazer getting soaked, but she doesn’t even notice it. 

It’s an awkward position, her on the outside of the tub and you barely standing up inside it, but she rubs your skin and you slowly feel warmth returning to your body. 

You’re about to ask if she’ll get in with you — you see the way she can’t stop looking at your tits and you’re suddenly longing to feel her on you, a reminder that she is yours — when a phone rings. 

Definitely not yours; your phone is always on silent. 

Agatha curses and tells you she’ll be right back before disappearing from the bathroom. The cold feeling starts to grow back in your stomach, creeping up to your throat and gripping tightly. 

“Yes — this is she!” you hear her say from the other room, her voice getting louder as she comes back into the bathroom. You look at her with wide eyes and she gives you a tight smile. “Oh, I did? Well, thank you very much, that is wonderful news.”

The person on the other line starts talking and you can only catch quick muffles of it, but from Agatha’s face, you already know. 

“Of course, yes, hang on just one second,” she says and presses her phone against her shoulder to give you her full attention. Eye contact with her feels like a stab to the gut. “Honey, are you sure you’re okay with this? You can say no.” 

Can you? 

It’s on the tip of your tongue — it would be so easy to ask her to turn it down, so easy to ask her to choose you. She’s waiting for an answer but each drop of water on your skin feels like a chant: no. no. no. You know Agatha’s trying to remain neutral, but you can tell she wants the job, by the way she’s twitching her fingers and the barely concealed pleading look on her face and the way she’s holding her phone so tightly it’s making her veins pop out all bluish and purplish. 

It’s clear that you cannot say no. 

You’re not sure she would ever forgive you, and you’re not sure you would ever forgive yourself. You can’t ask her to throw away this opportunity, not for you. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you say hoarsely, feeling a lot like you just signed a death warrant. 

But plenty of people do long distance, and two hours really isn’t that bad. Plus it just means that with all the waiting, the sex will be even hotter. Her moving away doesn’t mean anything. 

And you can transfer at the end of the semester, so really you just have to make it a few months. 

Agatha’s beam is one of pure gratitude and you know you made the right choice, but she’s back to talking on the phone and your little moment is interrupted. “Oh…two weeks? Of course, I can totally do that.” 

A flash of panic bolts through you and you mouth two weeks? at her. She purses her lips and shrugs apologetically, like that’s supposed to make you feel better. 

The rest of her phone call is blurred out by your sudden inability to hear anything but the rush of the water that has suddenly become so loud it’s taken over all your thoughts and you don’t even realize that she’s hung up and cleaned you off and gotten you out of the shower until you’re shivering and naked and Agatha’s wrapping a towel around you. 

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she murmurs because you’re now uncontrollably shaking and you think you might be crying a little. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She presses kisses to your forehead and cheeks and nose, muttering the same sort of sentients, while the towel around you slips to the floor when you throw your arms around her and cling to her like she’s your lifeline, like she’s everything you’ll ever need, and she holds you back so tightly you think you might fuse into one being. 

The two of you stand there like that until your skin gets clammy and pruney and your eyes are raw. When you finally pull back, your muscles ache and the front of Agatha’s clothes are absolutely soaked, so you tug on them until she gets the message and begins to strip. 

Her blazer comes off, and then she untucks her blouse from her pants and slowly begins to unbutton it, each time revealing more of her perfect pale skin. You can see the faint outlines of her ribs and then her stomach, the red bites from two days ago still there, albeit faded. 

There’s no mistaking the “M” though. A hot thrill runs through you despite the solemn air between you and a fire starts to flicker to life in your stomach. You reach out to trace your mark as if in a trance and Agatha’s breath hitches. 

Swallowing roughly, your eyes dart up to meet her already-dark ones. “We should talk about the job, right? Figure out what it means for us?” you ask, but even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel the atmosphere shift into something else. 

“Right,” Agatha nods, but she can’t stop looking down at your pebbled nipples — from the cold or from her? 

When she surges forward, clasps your cheeks, and pulls your mouth to hers, you know that it’s both. The kiss is messy, teeth knocking against each other and her tongue invading your mouth and breathing each other’s air, and you wrap your arms around her neck to bring her even closer. She didn’t get to take her pants off yet, but it feels absolutely delicious when she slides a thigh between yours and you grind down onto it. Your nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and you can’t help but moan into her open mouth. 

Fire roars beneath your skin, spreading to all over your body, and you suddenly just need more. You need her to overwhelm all your senses until you can’t fucking think about anything else, not the job, not her moving, not the fact that you could’ve stopped this but didn’t — you just want her. 

She grabs onto your hip to guide you against her leg and you whine as she sucks on your tongue. Her other hand comes up to cup your right breast and roll your nipple and you mewl and jerk against her. She tugs and it feels directly connected to your cunt because you pulse and it only gets worse when she flexes her thigh underneath you. 

“Bed — bedroom, please,” you choke out and her mouth doesn’t leave yours, walking you backwards into the bedroom and not stopping until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

Agatha pushes you down onto it, the duvet beneath you instantly getting wet from your dripping pussy, and she shimmies off her pants and underwear and sinks to her knees in front of you. It’s a sight to behold, her looking up at you from the floor like she wants to devour you, like she would hang the stars and the sun in the sky for you and it still wouldn’t be enough. The power running through you from the heat in her eyes and the ragged heaving of her red chest and the way she tosses her hair over her shoulder is enough to drive you mad. 

“You’re so perfect,” she breathes and it only makes you wetter. You buck your hips against the bed, trying to get some stimulation to your now-aching clit, but it’s not even close to enough. 

But it’s not even five seconds later when she leans in, inhales the scent of you deeply, and then drags her flattened tongue through your folds, making you keen and arch your back. She is so good with her mouth and she never fails to remind you. 

“Fuck, Agatha,” you gasp, and you usually don’t call her by her name during sex, normally opting for mommy, but you need the intimacy right now. You need to feel like this is real. 

She groans into you and teases her tongue around your clit, never quite touching it, and you bury your fingers in her hair and gently pull on it. Her eyes flick up to yours as a warning and you loosen your grip. Agatha gives you an almost imperceptible nod and rewards you with one long lick to your clit and your head falls back. 

You can no longer hold yourself up when she thrusts her tongue inside you, and you fall back onto the bed, instantly clenching around you. She feels so fucking good, her tongue curling inside your cunt and her nose brushing against your clit, and you angle a leg up on the bed so she can reach deeper inside you. “God, yes,” you sigh, and your orgasm is slowly starting to build up with each roll of your hips and each time your stomach tightens. 

But something is missing — you can’t help your thoughts from straying and you just need more. 

So you stop her and she looks up at you, the entire bottom half of her face and nose absolutely covered with you. Your clit throbs and you sit up.

“I need — I want — wanna taste you too, Aggie,” you whine and you’ve never used that nickname before, but you think she likes it because she lunges up, capturing your lips with hers again, and knocking you straight back onto the bed. 

She nods while still kissing you, whispering, “Fuck, honey, how are you so hot? How are you so perfect for me?” 

You clench around nothing and you claw at her shoulder blades frantically, knowing what you need but not how to ask for it. 

But Agatha knows — she always knows what you want, except for when it really counts apparently. She gets off of you and scooches on her knees until she’s situated behind your head, facing your body. And then she moves to frame your face with her thighs, her glistening cunt hovering right above your face, and she bends over to pry your legs open before leaning down and sucking on your clit roughly. 

You squirm and palm her ass to pull her down to your mouth, and at your first lick through her folds, she moans right into you, the vibrations making you jump. Eating her out while also being eaten out is an experience like no other you’ve ever had. Every single thing you do to her affects her, which in turn, affects you. 

The positive feedback loop has both of you sloppily mouthing at each other’s cunts, mimicking motions while also losing all sense of rhythm, and when she digs her fingernails into your thighs and scrapes her teeth against your clit, you let out a high-pitched sound that has her riding your face furiously. 

Agatha is getting louder too — you can feel it more than hear it, and you are completely drunk on her smell and her taste and how good she’s making you feel. You dip your tongue into her entrance, stroking against her convulsing walls before swirling around her clit and she pauses what she’s doing for a moment to just breathe heavily against your pussy before diving back in. 

All thoughts of anything else are completely out of your foggy mind and you feel like you’re floating, not able to focus on anything else besides Agatha. 

If you would’ve known that your dad having an affair would have led to you having the hottest sex with the hottest woman ever, you definitely wouldn’t have been so mad about it. 

“Oh, god, baby, you’re so good,” she says into your cunt and it only makes you grind up harder. She matches your intensity, riding your face fast, her clit dragging against your tongue. You groan in agreement and her stomach glides against your nipples while hers do the same and you know that it won’t be long before either of you cum. 

She nips at your inner thigh before plunging her tongue inside you and it has your hips bucking. “Fuck — Agatha,” you cry, barely able to keep eating her out because of how stimulated you are. Pleasure is racing through every ridge of your body and your head is spinning. 

“That’s right, honey,” she pants, lathering her tongue all over your clit. “Cum for me.” 

The tension inside you snaps and you cum, riding out the immense wave as she continues lapping at you and you suck on her clit, triggering her own orgasm. There’s a gush of wetness all over your face and she keeps rolling her hips, chasing the last tendrils. 

That was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, you think, and when Agatha flops down onto the bed next to you, breathing heavily, you think she might agree. 

“Fuck,” you say, completely wiped out, and Agatha chuckles weakly in response, reaching a hand out to rest her fingers against yours, not quite interlocking them. The two of you lay like that for what feels like forever, just soaking in the silence and the comfort of being right next to each other. 

You’re not sure who moves first — maybe it’s a mutual decision, but eventually you slide up to the pillows and Agatha turns around and moves next to you. Rotating onto your side, you hear the sheets rustle behind you and right on cue, Agatha’s arm snakes around you, holding you close enough to her that you can feel her heartbeat against your back and her breath on your neck. 

She kisses the top of your ear and you snuggle back against her. You know that you should put on clothes and clean up your mess, but for right now, you just need to feel her against you. 

“We’re going to be okay?” you ask timidly. It seems like it was so long ago that you were spiraling out of control because you thought she was cheating. 

Agatha’s arm tightens around yours. “We’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.” 

And you think you might actually believe her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg

[nicky92021]

I’m really terrible at writing but I had an idea of how Eddie might realize he’s gay (or demi or just Buck-centric) after he moves back to Texas

Could someone take this as inspiration and write a fic?! Please! I hope someone else likes the idea.

I didn’t want to make up names / I couldn’t remember if his sisters were already named in the show?

Sorry for the terrible formatting

Eddies Sister 1 “so how are things with buck? I bet you’re missing him a lot huh?”

Eddie “yeah it’s been tough. He knew how important it was for me to be with Christopher but the goodbye was still hard.

Eddies sister 1 “wait I thought you were still talking? Did you break up??

Eddie “what?!”

Eddies sister 1 “I thought you were going to do the long distance thing, I knew you weren’t going to stay forever your life is back in LA but wow breaking up after being with him for so long… do you really think Chris doesn’t want to be in LA again? See his Buck again?”

Eddie “what are you talking about?! Buck and I are just friends! I’m …I’m straight! Where did you get the idea that we were together?!”

Eddies sister 1 “Eddie…. I… I thought you were together? I don’t understand? All those times you talked about him and chis going to the movies, the zoo, staying at your place?… christmases??”

Eddie “I’m straight! Why would you just…. Wouldn’t I have mentioned if I was gay?!”

Eddies sister 1 “I thought you didn’t want to make it a big thing!!! You never really give lots of personal details Eddie you just talked about Chris and Buck!”

Eddie “I was just in a relationship! With a woman! The whole reason Chris is here is because he caught me with a woman that looked like his mother!”

Eddies sister 1 “you didn’t say you were seeing her!”

Eddie “I wasn’t! I was seeing Marisol she was with Chris when I was with Kim who looked like Shannon!”

Eddies sister 1 “you didn’t mention her once! You told us Christ saw you with a mom look alike freaked out you called buck to try and talk chis out of his room but then mom and dad showed up and took him!”

Eddie “whatever it doesn’t matter buck is my friend. My best friend. That’s all.”

Eddies sister 1 “ok”

Eddie “ok”

Eddies sister 2 “what did I miss”

Eddies sister 1 “nothing we were just talking about buck”

Eddies sister 2 “what happened did you guys break up?”

Eddie “IM STRAIGHT”

Eddies sister 2 “…. Buck is a woman?”

Eddie “you are doing this on purpose! You planned this to mess with me”

Eddies sister 1 “we didn’t plan anything!”

Eddies sister 2 “what are you talking about?!”

Eddie “look. I don’t know why the both of you think I’m in a relationship with Buck but I’m not. He’s my best friend that’s all…”

Eddie “…..do…. Why did you think I was gay? Was it just Buck….”

Eddies sister 1 “I mean…. Kindof? But also….. you only ever dated Shannon when we were younger … and even then you just kindof ran into marriage when she got pregnant…. It’s not so crazy… you never told us about anyone else after she died but you sounded better after a while you know? We.. I … just assumed…. Sorry Eddie”

Eddies sister 2 “did you have a boyfriend in like 10th grade? That guy that always came over…. Devon? Donald? Whatever”

Eddie “David 🙄 and he was just a friend from school we barely hung out”

Eddies sister 1 “uh no (sister 2) is right… he was over almost everyday for like a month… what happened?

Eddie “nothing… we just lost touch … Shannon transferred in and we hit it off…”

Eddies sister 2 “so… that didn’t mean you couldn’t still be friends with Damon”

Eddie “David…”

Eddies sister 1 “Eddie… listen it’s fine ok… we shouldn’t have assumed maybe this will make you keep in touch with us more hey?”

*eddies phone rings*

*buck*

Eddies sister 2 “oh my god just answer it”

Eddie “no it’s fine I’ll.., I’ll just talk to him later”

Eddies sister 1 “Eddie…”

Eddie “it’s fine really”

[kendrysaneela]

Ohmygod that was wild. First of all wow we were right that was Helena after all. I did get pretty sure when the lighting was red during the sex scene.

Okay thoughts.

Didn’t Helena basically just assault Mark S.? He didn’t know he was having sex with Helena he thought he was having sex with Helly oof that’s dark

It’s also kinda sad because I think Helena did it because she was trying to experience love? She was jealous Helly her innie who she sees as subhuman got to experience something she never has. So she wanted to experience love with Mark wanted to see what it was like to be Helly and be loved. Obviously that doesn’t excuse that doing that without Mark’s consent was messed up but Helena doesn’t view Mark S. As human so I don’t think she viewed it as assault she viewed it as using a tool to get what she needed. She wanted love and he was a tool she could use to get it. (Not an excuse yet again just a thought)

Helena being the one to laugh at the story was interesting. Like Kier is HER ancestor who she was raised her entire life to revere as the leader of her bloodline and raised to worship him. And yet she sat there and she laughed at him and laughed about the story. Made fun of it. It seemed so surprising for Helena to do that I wondered if we were wrong and if that was actually Helly or if it was a brand new person where Helly and Helena had reintegrated. I wonder why she did that? I feel like that shows she doesn’t believe her family’s hype. She’s not as brainwashed as I thought. Which is also kinda sad because that means she’s caged. If she doesn’t really believe in her family line in that way and doesn’t take her bloodline seriously but yet still goes along with whatever her family tells her to do, that shows she’s not brainwashed, she’s caged. She’s Helly but in the outside world. Maybe even worse because Helly has free will as an Innie she gets punished but she has free will and she has multiple people in her life who love her. Helena, seemingly has no one, and no real free will. I think she decided to take that opportunity to make fun of her ancestor cause she could. There were no cameras in the wilderness, none of her family was there, her father would never know, so she took her freedom and she ran with it. Even if Milchick told someone who would believe him over her? She outranks him. That’s probably why he threw the marshmallows away. He knew that was the only punishment he could give her. But yeah at the end of the day, Helena is in a gilded cage. And being an Innie was probably the only time she ever felt free. And I don’t think Helena was lying. I think she really is ashamed at who she is on the outside. I think she was telling the truth. You could tell from the way she looked at Irving when he asked who she really was, what she really saw on the outside. She stared at him, and she genuinely teared up. She looked genuinely sad. And like she felt sympathy for him. And then you watch her put her walls back up. And she walks away. And finds comfort in Mark S. I think she does feel guilty for what she’s done. Now does she feel guilty enough to do anything about it? I don’t know. Her father seems to have her locked up pretty tight.

I wonder what’s gonna happen now that everyone knows who Helly really is. And now that Helly knows who she is. And now that they know that Helena was occupying her body. Now that they know it’s possible for that long of a time. The implications of that are kinda insane.

And what’s gonna happen to Irving? Will his outie wake up in the woods? Will he wake up at home? Is Irving B gone forever?? The questions I have.