#this shit isn't over and it won't be for a while at this rate

[return0fpluto]

Please for the love of the stars, if a doctor mistreats you and you're able to,

report it.

Story under the cut, CW for urgent cares, potential medication interactions, and medical malpractice

TL;DR: Doctor gave us dangerous meds, called our mother diabetic, pretty sure he got in massive trouble or is about to and good

There will be a green separation where the problems end and the consequences for medical malpractice start so if you can't do the whole thing, scrolling until you see green is also an option

Two days ago, this past Saturday, our mother took us to the Memorial Health Urgent Care Center next door to us. We were both fatigued, sore/scratchy throat, and overall felt awful and knew we needed medical attention. When checked, both of us had low fevers and were ushered into the back where we waited for a doctor.

It's important to note that 2 days before that, Thursday, our father went to that exact urgent care with pretty much the same symptoms, and was given a Medrol Dosepak, an steroid anti-inflammatory that works wonders for functioning until whatever you have has run it's course

The doctor walks in, after the swab for strep throat came back negative, and looks over us and the body's mother. "Seems like an upper respatory infection," he says, "I'll send you home with some cough syrup." The body's mother asks if either of us, particularly us (singular), could have a Medrol Dosepak, as they help and she knows they help

It would've been well within his rights to say no, and explain why he did. Instead, he said that he "doesn't prescribed Medrol Dosepaks" and that was that, he'd send us home with non-steroid treatment

He then came back into the room a couple minutes later and told our mother that he definitely wouldn't give her any steroid treatments, as she's diabetic and they could raise her blood sugar

Our mother is not diabetic. She's on metformin for former pre-diabetes that she doesn't even meet the threshold for anymore. This doctor saw a fat, mid-60s lady and decided she must be diabetic

He prescribed us each the following:

• 200 mg of Tessalon Perles (our mother had some from her regular doctor at half the dose, and this doctor was also going to give us, at least 100 lbs lighter, the same dose of 200 mg)

• A psudophedrine cough syrup after both of us expressed that we were taking Sudafed pills already (psudophedrine is basically the Cold & Sinus bit of Advil Cold & Sinus)

• 60 mg of Ibuprofen (WE (singular) ARE ON AN NSAID ALREADY. TAKING THAT WOULD'VE BEEN A HIGHLY DANGEROUS DOSE)

If our mother hadn't looked through those, or had been less informed, we would've ended up in the hospital at the very least. We would've most likely sustained serious and potentially life threatening injuries from those medications.

No other tests were done.

Less than an hour after we got home, we were both running high fevers and felt even worse. Our mother was able to safely drive us (thankfully) to the Holy Cross Urgent Care in the town over, where she had been able to make an appointment (side note, we remember none of this. We were texting a friend at the time and our memories come from re-reading those and recounts from other people, because we had an 100+° fever after Tylenol when we run cold).

It was COVID

We had COVID, both of us

This new doctor explained that an anti-inflammatory would stop our immune response and potentially make us sicker/more susceptible to long-term damage. He suggested things that could help, as well as listening to what our mother planned on taking and giving us, and said he could prescribe something but didn't need to, as that's about all he could've given us anyways.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Our mother sent messages to the Memorial support line from both of us explaining how the first doctor dismissed us out of hand and then prescribed us both that were flat-out dangerous, and I don't care if it was actual concern for patient wellbeing or fear of being sued, but today or tomorrow someone came/is coming out to talk to that doctor at minimum, and possibly get him in legal/medical board trouble.

Even if it's fear of a lawsuit, higher ups need to hear when a doctor is being negligent or dangerous

Please, please don't worry about being a "Karen", this is your LIFE on the line, you are allowed to be pissed if a doctor is toying with it even unintentionally!!

[yuri-is-online]

And in With the New (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia x Yuu)

"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."

"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"

"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."

notes: they/them used for Yuu, their ex is implied to be kind of a shit person, other dorms can be found here (x) Ortho is somewhat included in Idia's part but does not have one of his own.

Kalim- "Do you have any other things from your world?"

Kalim has expressed a desire for you to see as much of Twisted Wonderland as possible, and he stands by that, but it would really suck if the only physical connection you had to your home was something that brought up painful memories. Your past relationship isn't something that makes him jealous, just concerned since it clearly causes you distress. He can wait to get you more appropriate clothing until after he makes sure you're ok. If the sweatshirt really is the only thing you have from home, he'll be asking if there are any foods you remember or activities you liked to do with the people you actually cared about that the two of you can recreate in Twisted Wonderland. That way you won't have to feel the need to hold onto something painful and he gets to make you happy.

Jamil- "Then why didn't you get rid of it before you came here?"

On the one hand he does feel a bit second rate at the thought of you holding onto something form an ex, but his primary concern is the implication that your financial straights have always been this... dire. He definitely wants to know about your previous relationship so he can judge them for how much better he is, but once he notices that the memories are a bit on the traumatic side he stops pushing and feels just the slightest bit guilty. But really, if it's something that hurts you to hold onto then why do it? You aren't him, you don't need to do that, people love you and want to take care of you, him included. He's not going to just give you his hoodie, he would literally die of embarrassment, but he does get you a sweatshirt. If for no other reason than to keep him from staring holes into your back now that he knows where the other one came from.

Vil- "It doesn't suit you at all."

If his treatment of Epel is anything to go by, Vil is not above spending money on something he considers to be a pet project. Not that this... friendship is one of those, nor is he particularly jealous of some no name extra who was too blind to beg on their hands and knees to get back in your good graces. Not that he needs to do that you understand; as arrogant as Vil has a reputation for being, he is one of the people who has been more genuine when expressing concern and gratitude for you. His comment isn't meant to be a slight, clothing that makes you feel bad about yourself is failing to do its job as fashion, and as a world class super model that is unacceptable. In other words get in the car looser we're going shopping.

Rook- "Ah, I thought it was something like that."

Is it bad if he says he meant he hoped it was something like that? Not that he was rooting for your ex to be a bad person, he would never wish a subpar lover on you. But when he saw the tattered edges of your sweatshirt and how it clashed with the things you bought for yourself, he hoped that maybe someone in your world hadn't wanted your hands to be cold. If that's not the case, then if you are ok with letting it go as a lover of romance who is he to deny you your freedom? Granted tossing roses onto a fire while you burn an ugly sweatshirt is both very extra and very Rook but hey. He's having fun and you've got a new jacket.

Epel- "Afford shamford I could'a just made ya one!"

Offering their sweetheart their hoodie is something manly tall guys get to do and Epel has really really REALLY. Been looking forward to getting to that point in his relationship with you. He wants to feel like a real man, like your real man to be specific. The thought of some other piece of shit getting to do that first and treating you like a used dish rag pisses him off. Best believe he is huffing and puffing his way back to Grandma Felmier's boot camp with a mission to do you one and your ex two better by knitting you a pullover to go with your uniform. Everything that comes from Harveston is a top quality product prefect, better than whatever you left behind he guarantees it.

Idia- "So this is that kind of route huh..."

Of course you had a partner back in your world, if he can see your good points then a normie absolutely could. That doesn't make you less appealing, it just makes him feel all that more convinced he doesn't have a chance. He's halfway through whipping out his tablet to excuse himself when Ortho asks what you meant by "shitty memories" and they both get blindsided by just how much vitriol you have for a person whose clothing you technically kept on you. And suddenly he's back in business because there are few things that unite Idia with someone faster than a good old fashion bitch fest. Sure, his insults are weirdly possessive of you, but if he had any doubts about your feelings for this person he doesn't now! He's never heard you talk about anyone like this before and he finds it so attractive he almost forgets to short circuit when Ortho convinces you to try on his hoodie. Almost.

Malleus- "..."

Sometimes he feels like a broken record, constantly marveling at how little fear you have of him, but really child of man, you have no fear. Malleus has very little in the way of emotional intelligence, so he doesn't fully understand that what he is feeling is jealousy he just knows the thought of you with someone else's clothes hurts. Unfortunately for you both, in addition to not being emotionally intelligent he also isn't with the times and there is a non zero percent chance he will be bringing you a cloak and be genuinely confused when you don't immediately replace your old hide for his. (Lilia takes responsibility for that, he was making a joke honest.) Oh? The point was it's supposed to be something he wore so you can feel closer to him when he's gone? Well why didn't you say so child of man, he is more than willing to offer you a scale- what do you mean you can't wear that either?

Lilia- "Oh? Are you asking for one of mine?"

Shame has not been a word in Lilia's vocabulary since long before you showed up prefect. He always buys oversized clothing because of how cute the long sleeves look on him, but oh they would be so much cuter on you prefect, don't you want to see? Oh and while the two of you are at it, why don't you let him paint your nails and do your eye shadow. He's never had one of those slumber party things you humans do, you should make a night of this so you can both get a new experience out of this. He can have a slumber party and you can be the center of someone's world. Also what do you mean you're supposed to summon the devil at these things, he's already here.

Silver- "Would you like one of mine?"

Lilia raised a very good boy who thinks nothing of offering the shirt off his back to save someone in distress. Silver isn't a jealous person by nature, he's more concerned with making sure you are safe and taken care of than he is making sure you don't still have feelings for your ex. Above all else, Silver wants to be a safe space for you to come home to at the end of the day, like a proper knight in shining armor. Though he does have to admit, you look really nice in Diasomnia colors, they're really close to Briar Valley's so if you decide to come and visit he's assures you that you will fit right in. He's sure his father would be very happy to play host. Maybe too happy.

Sebek- "HOW UTTERLY DISGRACEFUL."

You think he's upset at you but he's not, that's made painfully clear with the rant he starts to go on about proper courtship procedure. Offering clothing to someone is supposed to be a sign of high affection, nay eternal devotion! And it suddenly becomes clear to you that Sebek has somehow managed to confuse the concept of a stolen hoodie and a knight's favor. He seems to have managed to convince himself, in the span of two seconds, that you are wearing this not because it is one of your only pieces of clothing, but because your ex convinced you that they're the only one who could love you which IS NOT TRUE. YOU UNDERSTAND HUMAN? DO YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAAND?

[jinnie-ret]

heatstroke

stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: heat stroke, vomiting

word count: 1.9k

summary: y/n suffers from heat stroke on the day of their performance at lollapalooza

As voted by you!

It's finally here! Sorry it took me a while to post this after the poll ended, but I hope you enjoy!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

They had made it to Paris. Y/N couldn't believe how big the crowd would be for their performance at the festival 'Lollapalooza'. The sun was shining, and all she wanted to do was fully appreciate the nice weather. Although, where there was a Changbin, there was always chaos.

"Hwang Hyunjin!" Changbin called from opposite Y/N in his deck chair.

"Why do you keep calling me? Wae? Wae. Wae?" Hyunjin loomed over Changbin in a hoodie and sunglasses, wondering why the older member wanted his attention.

"Jinnie how are you wearing a hoodie right now? The sun's out, it's boiling," Y/N raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's not that hot," he shook his head at her, probably side eyeing her from behind his shades.

Each to their own, Y/N thought.

Somehow they came onto the topic of noodles but Y/N wasn't really fussed, she had ramen all the time back home.

She was more trying to relax, and she couldn't help but fall asleep from the comforting warmth of the French sunshine.

"Y/Nnie, wake up, you look like a tomato," Jeongin shook her awake, and as she became fully aware she realised her arms and neck was feeling quite hot.

Shit, she forgot her sun cream.

"You good? Your arms are so red," Chan peered at her, concerned.

"Mmm, my neck feels hot too," Y/N sits up in the deck chair, brushing her hair back so the boys could see.

"Aish that sunburn looks bad, you should have put on some suncream," Felix lightly brushes his finger over her red arm, making her wince.

"Gosh, I'm going to look like a tomato when we perform," Y/N laughs as she looks down at her arms.

"At this rate you won't just look like a tomato, you'll look like the whole garden," Lee Know smirks, proud of his joke.

"Ha, ha, very funny Lee Know," Y/N pats his cheek in a jokingly patronising way, smiling back at him.

"You need to take better care of yourself, Y/N," Chan looked over her, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry Channie, I just wanted to enjoy the nice weather," Y/N pouted.

"You do realise you can get skin cancer if you burn too much?" Seungmin pointed out, taking a sip of water from his bottle.

"Yah, Seungmin don't say things like that I'll get paranoid," Y/N whacks his arm lightly.

"Hey I'm just saying, your skin will age faster too," Seungmin shrugged.

"I'll look like an old woman next to you guys and I'm the youngest!" Y/N laughed, Han appearing with aloe vera out of nowhere and gently rubbing it into her skin, letting out quiet apologies when she winced.

"That's why I'm helping you, don't want you to look like a 60 year old next to us whilst we still look the same," Han laughed loudly.

"Haha, that would look kinda funny though," Y/N laughed at the thought. Perhaps she'd look like grandma I.N with the rest of the group alongside her.

"You know what else would be funny?" Changbin wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"What?" Y/N asked curiously, shifting her body to stand and face him.

"To see you dancing on stage like a tomato, everyone going crazy because of how big and red you are," Changbin maniacally giggled.

The boys burst out laughing at the statement and Y/N's face.

"Huh? Big?!" Y/N gasped laughing.

"I was talking about your cheeks, they're really big and red right now," Changbin laughed, waving his hands in defense of how what he said had sounded.

"Haha, I'll introduce myself like, hi! This isn't Y/Nnie, I'm tomato today!" Y/N put on her stage voice, pretending to introduce herself to her fans.

The members all laugh at her, Jeongin walking up to her and tickling her sides.

"Hey! Are you the new mascot for ketchup?" he cheekily grinned, eyes disappearing through his smile.

"Yah! Jeongin!" Y/N guffawed from his remark.

"Ah, our tomato is blushing so much," Lee Know pats her head smirking.

"Stop, stop," Y/N waves them away.

"Haha, seriously though, come inside the tent for a bit, you should stay out of the sun," Chan guided her into their tent where they were setup before their performance.

"Yeah it's not like we're performing until a few hours anyways," Lee Know nodded, as they all sat around inside.

"Aish, I'm tired," Y/N laid her head down in Han's lap, his hand brushing through her hair out of habit.

"You were literally just napping," Hyunjin raised a brow at her.

"Yeah but..." Y/N closed her eyes feeling relaxed at the familiar feeling.

"Drink some water first," Hyunjin put a bottle of water with a straw in it to her face.

Still with her eyes shut she took a sip and then relaxed. It wasn't until a couple of hours later that she was woken up and ushered to the stylists and makeup artists to get ready.

The crowd was insane. And really, they were the only thing keeping her going as she could feel her energy depleting. She didn't notice the glances from the boys throughout the performance, occasionally spotting her swaying yet she still managed to keep her vocals stable as they performed Superbowl for the first time ever, and Item for the second time ever.

The euphoria running through her veins began to leave her once they reached backstage. With a smile she listened to Felix end their set to hype the crowd with Seven Nation Army. But she couldn't help her slumped figure as she sat down after her desperate search for a chair.

"You good, Y/Nnie?" Chan patted her shoulder, trying to get her attention.

"Hot," Y/N panted, tugging at the collar of her leather jacket that she had been fitted with for the stage performance.

"Take it off then," Changbin helped her shake it off, now feeling concerned at her heavily sweating state.

"What's going on with Y/N?" some of the other members asked as they walked over.

"Ugh, my head," she groaned, now leant forward as she gripped onto her knees for some stability.

"Have some water, silly," Seungmin encouraged her to take his own, yet her shaky hand wasn't very reassuring to the others.

"Y/Nnie, you can't even hold onto it, are you dizzy? What's the matter?" Felix poured out questions, worried about the state she was in.

"Mmm," Y/N nods, as Jeongin helps her sip from the water bottle.

"Ah that's not good," Hyunjin shakes his head, frowning.

"Here, come on, let's get you relaxed somewhere else," Changbin helps her stand, yet as her body becomes upright she stumbles, Lee Know helping to support her balance.

Y/N suddenly tears up, feeling scared about how she was feeling. It was all too overwhelming, and everything felt too hot.

"C-can't feel my arms," Y/N whimpered as tears fell down her cheeks, the boys murmuring amongst themselves worriedly.

"You can't feel your arms?" Felix asked, a scared look on his face, and that made Y/N feel worse, she didn't want the boys to be stressed out for her sake.

"I'm sorry, I..." Y/N trailed off, still panting as she was guided back to her chair, the boys deciding it was for the better for her to rest for now where she was, instead of moving her somewhere else.

"You're okay. Everything is going to be ok, sweetheart, we've got you, yeah?" Chan hushed her soothingly, Han rubbing her back in small circles.

"Should we call a medic?" Jeongin asked, eyes wide with uneasiness.

"Yes, good idea, Innie," Lee Know nodded at him, as they both went to look for some help.

"Y/N, you're ok, you're going to be ok," Hyunjin quietly comforted her, a light grip on her hand as he knelt down beside her.

Y/N groaned again from her headache getting worse.

"Where are those medics?" Changbin asked, looking around frustratedly with his hands on his hips, wondering what was taking so long.

"Don't... worry... don't waste... on me..." Y/N could barely get her words out, especially as a wave of nausea overcome her.

"Yah, it's not a waste, you're clearly not well right now Y/N," Han looked sullen, now fanning her face with a piece of paper he had found.

"S-sorry... ugh, feel... sick," she mumbled dizzily, slumped in the chair.

"You feel sick?" Hyunjin worried.

"I'm gonna... ugh," Y/N, with all her willpower, lifted herself out of the chair, yet it wasn't enough to keep her standing as she collapsed to her knees on the ground and threw up whatever was in her system. The boys were unable to catch her and yelled out as she fell.

"Y/N! Shit!" Changbin held her against him.

"Where are the medics?!" Chan yelled angrily, stress consuming him as their maknae was on the ground.

"Ah, ugh, I'm, ah I'm sorry," Y/N whimpered, tears running down her face from her own panic and the feeling of throwing up.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's ok, just take a deep breath," Han held her hair back, looking around at the boys with his eyes shining with his own tears as he feared she wouldn't be ok.

Y/N threw up again, gasping for breath.

"Is that all of it?" Hyunjin whispered from beside them, Y/N tearily nodding as she slumped back in Changbin's arms, feeling dazed.

Lee Know and Jeongin suddenly rushed over with the medics, both of them seeming angry.

"Finally! Where were they?!" Chan asked them, sighing disappointedly.

"Packing up, they were ready to go even though we only just finished performing," Lee Know gritted his teeth as the medics lifted Y/N onto a stretcher and took her through to a medical room, much cooler with air conditioning blasting through the room.

They held a wet cloth against her forehead and against her burns to try and lower her body temperature. The boys couldn't do anything but wait anxiously as they saw their youngest laying down and getting treated.

"Her temperature is dropping, that's a good sign," the medic said out loud to the boys.

Half an hour had passed and Y/N was now more aware of her surroundings, the medics clearing that she could head back to the hotel with the boys, telling them that if her condition worsens again that they need to call an ambulance immediately.

"I'm sorry," Y/N sleepily muttered as they helped her into the company cars.

"Don't apologise, we were more concerned about you," Seungmin informed her, an arm wrapped around her waist as he and Hyunjin guided her into the back of the car.

"That's why I feel bad," Y/N bit her lip.

"It's ok, you can rest now, don't worry about it ok? I know it's easier said than done but we'll make sure you're ok, and we're doing that because we care about you, yeah?" Chan said from the front seat.

"Ok, ok," she yawned, head leaning against Hyunjin's shoulder.

Once they arrived back at the hotel they didn't let her stay in her own room, as she instead was looked after by Lee Know and Jeongin in another, the two of them making sure she was relaxed and not too hot as they kept the air conditioning on. It may have felt a bit cold for them at one point but they didn't mind, they'd do anything for her. All of the boys would.

tagged: @skz-streamer @oo-li

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-week.

Long Long Time

Day #3 - Prompt: Mutual Pining | Word Count: 1050 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Steve | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Idiot 4 Idiot, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, Platonic Stobin, Robin Knows What's Up

It's not one realization. It's several, over and over again. A steady falling, until he's in so deep, there's just nothing to be done about it. 

"Stop pining, dingus," Robin says, and Steve looks up at her and smiles.

"Impossible," he answers.

"Just tell him," she urges, and he shakes his head. Eddie isn't interested. He's made that pretty clear with the distance he's put between them. 

"Nah, that's not cool. He's getting ready to go," Steve says, "no reason to make it uncomfortable now."

"Dingus. No. Stop it. I can promise you Eddie is pining for you just as hard."

Steve shakes his head. He knows that's not true. Steve's tried all his best moves over the last two years, everything he knows, and has nothing to show for it, except a heart that's maybe not gonna be his anymore.

Steve sits on the floor of Wayne's house, and helps box tapes. Eddie's going. He's really leaving, and soon. 

And Steve's sure that's gonna hurt him for a long, long time. 

"So, what're your big plans for this summer, Harrington?" Eddie asks.

Missing you, Steve thinks, but doesn't say.

"Oh, I don't know. Hang out with Rob, I suppose. Find new jobs. You know we like to change it up every so often. Wreak havoc elsewhere."

Eddie laughs, and it makes Steve smile.

"You could come with me, you know," Eddie offers, but keeps looking down at the box he's packing. "Both of you. All of us."

It's not a real offer, Steve knows that. He knows he's supposed to say no, supposed to let Eddie go, without throwing an anchor around his neck. 

"Oh, you don't want that," Steve rebuffs, and Eddie looks up. "I'll cramp your style."

Eddie laughs, "Yeah, you know me. Party animal."

Steve grins, "You might become one. You won't want me tagging along for that."

"But, what if I do?" Eddie asks, and Steve looks up at him.

"Eddie," Steve says, trying to cut this off before he embarrasses himself.

"You're one of my best friends, and we could have fun together."

They could. Steve knows that's true. But he can't go live in an apartment with Eddie. Can't watch him spread his wings and date, right in front of Steve's face. That'd be too hard.

Even if part of Steve wants to say yes, desperately, just to cling onto anything that's being offered.

But he's trying to be better about that. Trying to grow, and shit.

He can only let his heart get trampled so many times, and he's nearing his limit. He definitely won't be able to survive it happening under Eddie's boot.

"C'mon, Steve. For me."

And that almost does it. He hates to deny anything that Eddie might want, but sometimes, you've got to save yourself first. Put on your own life preserver, then worry about everybody else. Robin's taught him that. Or, has at least tried to.

"I can't."

"Why? Robin? I said she can come, too!"

"Because we don't feel the same way about each other, Eddie!" Steve snaps, and Eddie turns into himself, immediately.

"Oh. Oh shit," Eddie says, "I didn't know you knew. Wow, that's embarrassing," he mutters, and it kind of makes Steve mad. 

"I'm not embarrassed. I can't help who I lov-. Like. Whatever. But I just can't torture myself, man. I want you to be happy, I do. And I'm the wrong guy for making that happen, obviously, so let's just leave it. While we're still friends."

Eddie's nodding, still packing, then he's suddenly frozen in place, "Wait. What? You make me the happiest."

"As a friend," Steve clarifies.

"Well, yeah. But, if you were into it, as more, too."

"Wait. What?" Steve asks, repeating the same thing Eddie had just said. This is gonna turn into Who's on First? if they aren't careful.

"I mean," Eddie says, shying away, "I know you aren't interested like that. But I still want you around."

Steve laughs, fucking cackles, like he's crazy. He feels crazy.

Was Robin right all along? Was Eddie doing the same kind of pining, and Steve just never noticed? Fuck.

They are both goddamn idiots, if that's the case.

"Well, don't laugh," Eddie says, and he sounds dejected.

"Wait, Eddie, hold up," Steve says, crawling across the carpet towards him, putting his hand on Eddie's forearm. "Do we have crossed wires here? Do you like me, like me? Like I like you?'

"You like me?" Eddie asks.

"Uh, yeah," Steve admits, "I have for a while, to be honest."

"Jesus H. Christ, we're idiots," Eddie says, pushing his hand into Steve's hair.

"Dinguses, if you ask Robin," Steve says, smiling, and Eddie's so close he could kiss him. 

Steve thinks he will, and leans in, where Eddie meets him halfway. Kissing him, and it's everything, more than Steve hoped it could ever be.

When Eddie pulls back he's smiling, eyes crinkled at the edges, fucking happy.

He looks thrilled, and Steve decides to go all in. In for a penny, in for a goddamn pound.

"I think I'm gonna love you for a long, long time," Steve whispers in a sing-songy way, because even as happy as Eddie looks right now, Steve's still scared his love won't be wanted.

But Eddie just grins even harder.

"What made you think of that song?" Eddie asks, eyes big and bright, almost shiny.

"You hum it all the time," Steve answers, "under your breath. Like it's soothing."

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve's neck, pulling him tighter. Harder. Closer. They're on their knees, so that kind of hurts, but Steve refuses to let him go as Eddie whispers, "It was my mom's favorite song. She'd sing it to me at night."

"Kind of a sad lullaby," Steve says, and Eddie smiles.

"I was kind of a sad little boy," Eddie admits, and Steve runs his hands up and down Eddie's back.

"Well," Steve says, pressing his lips to Eddie's briefly, "if you'll let me, I'm gonna make sure you're not a sad adult."

Eddie kisses him hard at that, and Steve really will. Even if it takes his whole damn life. 

"I'll definitely let you. For a long, long time," Eddie echoes, the beginnings of a promise.

And Steve will take that deal.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-week and follow along with the fun!t

The title is from the Linda Ronstadt song of the same name.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Out of curiosity, how would (insert character of tour choice here!) react to being asked to kill a giant bug because reader is WAY too scared to do it themself?

Heehee, ahh this is so fun! (I'm sorry, I chose everyone basically. Also I'm a big softie for insects, and pretty much everyone is just taking them outside.)

oscar isaac charcters x GN!Reader • Rating: PG •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Warnings: bugs, bug death

Word Count: 681

_____________________________________

Steven: Will NOT be killing the bug, he will be putting a cup/glass/bowl over it and putting it safely outside.

Marc: Literally just grabs it with his hands and puts it outside, usually via the window if he can't be bothered to put his shoes on.

Jake: Will very seriously pretend to get out his gun to shoot the offending insect until you laugh. 

Nathan: Rolls his eyes and says "bugs are important for the ecosystem” and “the only bugs I deal with are computer ones." He has a robot to sort out real-life insects that get in the house for him. (He will never admit it but he doesn't want to touch the bug, even through the barrier of a glass.)

Anselm: His third cousin twice removed has the job title of 'insect remover'.

Cecil: Tries to get the bug in a glass, accidentally puts the cup down too quickly and cuts it in half with the rim. Has a complete breakdown over it that you will need to console him for for the next three hours. 

Club!Blue: He'll make you do it yourself, and watch you while you do it.

Orderly!Blue: Please do not ask him because not only is he gonna catch the bug, but he's gonna put it on you in some kind of twisted aversion therapy. 

Jack: He's... he's eaten the bug.

Santiago: Will carry you out of the room before he removes the offending insect for your well-being (it doesn't matter how much you weigh). Will ignore when you say carrying you isn't good for his knees, will kiss your cheeks and forehead repeatedly.

Shimmer!Kane: Will just look at you a little confused for a minute or two. Then he'll look at the bug, somehow the bug just walks out of the house straight away seemingly of its own volition. 

King John: He's not gonna do fuck all about the bug. But he will kiss you and pull you into his lap until you've completely forgotten about the bug. 

Rydal: He's gonna tease the hell out of you, 'why can't you deal with the bug?' Then he sees the insect himself and is like, 'oh no, no no.' You both have to sort out this problem together, basically attached to the hip the whole time. 

Laurent: He's going to shoo the bug away and out this a large paintbrush. And then grin like a little shit when he's done it. Will expect kisses as a reward.

Poe: Does it without thinking, just gets the bug and takes it outside if it's not gonna be a threat to either of you. Doesn't even realise it's a big deal until after you hug him as a thank you. 

William: There is never a bug for you to ask him to get rid of, he's made sure the place is insect free already. 

Miguel: Miguel-what have you got against bugs?-O'Hara. Will stay completely deadpan until you get flustered and then will crack a cheeky smile. 

Bud: He's already swatted it with his newspaper before you even have to ask.

Richard: Doesn't want to hurt the bug if it's not dangerous and will take it outside for you. Will also get his dog to 'patrol' around the house for you to keep you safe and protected from any other insects that try to encroach. 

Robbie: Is so happy to be helpful, and just wants to make sure you're content and feeling safe.

Jonathan: Is so used to taking bugs out of his daughter's room that he'll do it without a second thought.

Leto: Will chuckle and tease you a little about it, but he likes that you asked him and he also likes that he can do this for you.

Basil: You're gonna have to save him from the bug, I'm afraid.

Abel: Thoroughly amused that you ask him to, won't make a big deal out of it but likes that he can sort this out of you. Makes him feel wanted. 

_________________

Thank you for reading!

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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[metalotaku-da]

So many cross overs so narrow of common hero choices. Let's expand a little.

"Rip what the hell is that?"

"It appears sir, to be a small human child. Around the developmental stage of 4-5"

"Even you know better than to cuss infront of kids.

"I was gone for five minutes."

"Actually I snapped you back to a minute after you left."

"Are You misser booser gol?"

"Yeah kid that's me. You a fan or something who got into something you shouldn't to find me?"

"No. Clockie said tis for you." Hands a sticky note to booster.

Note reads: this is Danny. You will care for him from now on. See this as payment for resetting your time line safely. If you even try pass him off to Bruce wayne/batman, I will ensure your entire familial line never touched time traversing. And you stayed forever trapped in the 31st century. -clockwork master ancient of all time. P.s. there is not conning your way out of this. I will hunt down every ancestor or decendant for all time.

"This looks very serious sir. Congratulations sir you are a father Now"

"Wow kid. Clockie must hate you. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not that bad of an option. Obviously I was judged better that batsy."

"Clockie ass hero I want to say wiff."

"OH kiddo and you asked for the greatest hero boostergold?"

"I wike space. He say geen lanern is space. He take care of me."

"I'm so sorry sir, you have already disappointed your new child. Should I take a commemorative photo of this milestone moment for you?"

"No" "yes skeets"

Camera flashes.

"I shall add this photo to a new album labeled baby book. It is labeled Danny's first disappointment, sir."

"Thank you skeets." X2 one sarcastic one pleased.

"I wan geen lanern."

"Think you're gonna need help anyway Micheal. Call one of them. Not guy."

"I would never co-parent with guy. What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

"Rip takes you as the utmost idiot sir. As does most of the justice league sir."

"Thanks skeets."

"You are most welcome sir."

"Can I pay wif the talking space ship?"

"Sure kid." Pushes skeets into the kids hands.

"I do not believe I am rated for physical interaction by children under 10 sir."

"To bad skeets." Picks up Danny who looks up at him instead of at skeets to smile all teeth. "Holy shit are those fangs? We are going to go see my friend Ted now. He will know what to do."

"He will atleast know not to cuss infront of kids. Don't know about the rest."

"Is ted geen lanern?"

Cue shenanigans. They were roommates, but adopted a child.

"Does Batman know you stole a child from him?" <- Jaime when he visits.

"Do not even joke like that. My existence is at stake."

"Batsy is the new beetle juice. In this house."

"Are You geen lanern?"

"Sorry kid I am blue beetle."

"Should I take a picture for Danny's third disappointment since becoming your child sir?"

"No skeets."

"3rd? How long you had him?"

"A week"

"Ouch. Hey kiddo why do you want to meet green lantern? Aren't these guys just as cool?"

"Considering the average human body temperature is 98.6 degrees I do not believe they qualify as cool sir." Jaime is picking up danny to hold on his hip.

"Clockie says geen lanern is space." Danny smiles.

"Are those fangs? Is this a meta kid? You like space? My scarab is from space. Isn't that just as... Oh My, no scarab!" Scarab starts to go into protect host mode while screaming danger desteoy threat in Jaime head just as Danny's eyes start to glow green at the statement and his mouth splits inhumanly wide with even more teeth. Ted and Michael scramble to grab Danny and move him away from Jaime till he gets control of the scarab again. But Danny has a death grip and won't let go of his new friend.

"I do believe sir that your new child qualifies as a meta. Should I take a picture to commemorate your child's first power demonstration sir?"

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's second chance

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending

Rated: G

CW: referenced child neglect/abuse

Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.

Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.

Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour. 

Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood. 

Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head. 

Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning. 

"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong. 

"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-" 

"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?" 

"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over." 

*

They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him. 

Even if she tied it to one condition. 

He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat. 

He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi. 

*

"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.

Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends. 

"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel." 

The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."

Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should. 

Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking. 

"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?" 

Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday. 

"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph." 

He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell." 

This gets him a huffed laugh. 

"He'd love this place, it's really cool." 

When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard. 

"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself." 

A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.

Well, shit. 

"Listen, your highness …" 

"Steve is fine." 

"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick." 

A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly." 

"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?" 

"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged." 

Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh. 

"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets." 

Eddie frowns. 

"Dustin as in the kid or …" 

"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon." 

Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way." 

He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.

"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow." 

*

When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains. 

"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?" 

"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number." 

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

[yourdakg]

Donation Found!

Remember Ryder? The SoCal pretty boy who was depressed that his life was a vapid, superficial, and party focused existence? He contacted Turnaround Technologies to ask, nay plead for a new body and a new life. See his Donation Request Form.

If only it were that simple. Turnaround Technologies utilizes some of the most advanced science on the market. When a body is fully adjusted, it's a slow and sometimes torturous process! If it was as simple as switching brains, that would be one thing. But the subjects have to physically transform into one another, and then brainwaves are overwritten. Chemistry, genetics, biology, and psychology are all involved in this elaborate process.

So Ryder had to come up with the $325,000 fee. Luckily, he had money saved and he was able to sell off the red Mustang convertible and his yellow Yamaha Sport Bike to meet the target. The final straw was giving up the deed to his WeHo apartment. Don't tell him, but his donor bought the items! Isn't that funny? He covered the rest with personal loans! Well, a little bit of debt won't hurt.

Let's remind you of where Ryder is starting his journey:

And now let's the see information plate for his donor. I think he'll be very pleased! After this, he'll never have to worry about being surrounded by vapid, beautiful people and fending off pesky pool party invites! Yes, this is the ideal swap partner for Ryder.

Meet Dr. Pervus Fondler. And wouldn't you know it? Dr. Fondler was a doctor in Ryder's hometown! They actually know each other. The good doctor cares very deeply for Ryder and was pained when he heard about his current circumstances. He decided that his job as a physician meant he had to step up and give the ultimate sacrifice! You know what they say: First Do No Harm.

Donor Statement: While I am nervous about the process, I am confident that I will give Ryder a new future, one where he won't have to worry about all that vanity and his gym obsession. True freedom for the boy!

Thank you, doctor, for going the extra mile for your patients. Turnaround Technologies will prepare the Exchange Chambers. Both subjects will be stripped down and cleansed before being placed in metallic, moisture wicking bikinis while our technicians prepare for the process:

Now that Ryder is dressed and the drugs are injected into his system, it's time to introduce him to his generous benefactor. I hope he has a positive reaction to the kind of man he will become. Let's check in!

Patient Statement: No! Holy shit! No, not Pervus the Perv! You can't put me in that. Don't force me into that body! I'd be going from a perfect ten to a zero. Please! No... LET GO. Please, oh my God. No, I thought it would be another buff guy like me. I change my mind, I changed my mi--**UMPH HRRMPH**

It's not clear why Ryder objected so strongly to his partner. Maybe it was the shock of knowing who the doctor was from earlier in his life. At any rate, he paid the fee and signed the paperwork so there is, quite literally, no going back. Swaps of this nature are once in a lifetime and, of course, quite permanent.

Subject had to be forcibly gagged and sedated.

Add another $125,000 for the service. Ryder sure is going to pay a lot of money for his new life!

When he came to in the chamber, Ryder was pounding on the door. I think he was crying. His oversize genitalia were mashed against the glass in his silver pouch. It was quite the sight. When the whirr of the machine began and the paralyzing blue light hit, his eyes went crossed. He fell backwards and pumped his hips in the air. Well, the erection is to be expected. I've heard the process somewhat erotic, though painful.

It takes a couple days and the exchange unstable during that time, but I am happy to report the following:

Donor Report: I feel good. Very good. I'm probably going to move to SoCal, sort of take over Ryder's apartment. I'll probably start using his name now too. Don't wanna confuse people. I don't even have my old, perverted urges. I hope he's comfortable with the mental traits foisted on him. Oh... he wants to take picture of me? Ha, okay. I'll flex for $100. Recipient Report: What do you mean I can't go back *whimper* why do I feel so strange. I'm already out of breath. Give it back! What do you mean a name change is included in the package *sob* MY NAME IS PERVUS NOW??!?! Oh. I have to take his medical practice in my shithole hometown? Oh God! I just... oh goodness, seeing it from this angle it's such a fine body. So tight and firm! At least flex for me, my boy? A little. So I can snap a few pics and... use them later. Eehehe. Oh God, what have I become?

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

I need tsundere gap moe

HK416/WA2000 going too far on a specific aspect her partner is uneasy at and lowering their walls, trying to make it up

(GFL) HK416 and WA2000 letting their walls down for S/O

tsundere gap moe is what I live for

To say 416 had a sharp tongue was a dramatic understatement.

Not a day went by where she wouldn't admit something solely due to pride.

She had thought her actions spoke louder than her words, but sometimes she isn't aware just how loud she is in general, especially her insults.

Even with S/O, her habits refused to back down, leading to an occasion where her usual snark had genuinely hurt S/O's feelings.

(S/O) "416, you need to calm down-"

416 clicked her tongue in annoyance as she put her equipment into the locker, one eye glancing over to S/O.

(HK416) "Like hell I will! I have a right to be angry, my ass is always out there, always about to be blown up into a billion damn pieces!"

She spun around and jammed a finger onto S/O's chest, her voice only increasing in volume.

(HK416) "I don't see you risking your neck out there! You're just sitting around here doing nothing while us T-Dolls do all the work! I don't wanna hear a single fu-..."

416 quickly cut herself off seeing S/O seemingly shrink back from her, and detecting their heartrate growing at an alarming rate, as if they were in danger.

When she pulled back, S/O winced when their hand brushed over the area she had jabbed them with, suddenly being reminded that she was a T-Doll, and S/O was human.

Her voice grew quiet as she hesitated, stepping forward carefully as to not spook S/O again.

(HK416) "S-Shit, I'm sorry, I-..."

She looked to them for permission to approach, and seeing them sigh and relax their shoulders, she gently rubbed the spot she had presumably hurt them, cursing at herself under her breath.

(HK416) "I...I didn't actually mean any of that-"

(S/O) "It's okay, I know you didn't. I want to help you out on the field, I truly do, but I know I'll just slow you and the rest of 404 down."

They averted their eyes from meeting hers, still looking understandably hurt.

Her fingers fidgeted for a moment before she checked the hall behind her, ensuring they were alone.

After doing so, she slowly and awkwardly wrapped her arms around S/O, trying her best to not let her usual language slip up and hurt them even more.

(HK416) "Honestly, I'm glad you're here. It's a lot safer at the base than it is out there..."

She wanted to say more, but found the words getting caught in her throat, unable to voice them.

So instead, she hugged them tighter, relaxing when she felt S/O's arms wrap back with their heartbeat stabilizing.

(HK416) "You'd never slow me down, S/O."

(S/O) "Hah, that's a lie and you know it-"

She put a finger onto S/O's lips and sighed.

(HK416) "Let's get something to eat. It's on me tonight."

A paid dinner was not nearly enough for how bad she hurt S/O with her carelessness, but hopefully it was a start.

Trying to get WA to say what was truly on her mind was like getting a cat into a bath: annoyingly difficult.

She barely did so with any of the other T-Dolls and the Commander, even the presence of her S/O seemed to exacerbate the issue.

But WA was always remorseful in private that she wasn't as honest as she could be.

S/O had become used to her antics, and that only made WA further irritated.

S/O had truly entrusted their heart to her, a T-Doll of all things.

And she could barely do the same for someone who saw her more than that, maybe one of the only few who would.

It was only a matter of time when WA childishly called them names would be the last time, right?

(S/O) "...WA?"

She snapped out of her thoughts as her finger stopped tracing the outline of the wine glass, turning back to S/O.

Their brows were slightly furrowed out of concern.

(S/O) "You alright?"

(WA2000) "...Just thinking. P-Promise me you won't laugh!"

S/O nodded and held her hand, turning her cheeks as crimson as her eyes.

(S/O) "I promise. Go ahead."

(WA2000) "How are you not sick of me?"

Before S/O could ask what she meant, WA continued while looking at them directly.

(WA2000) "I...know I struggle with telling you how I truly feel, but you've always been so patient, no matter how many times I call you an idiot, or a pervert, or whatever. But, why are you still with me?"

S/O was silent for a moment, one finger idly tapping the top of her hand.

(S/O) "Truth be told, I'm actually astonished you're still with me. Considering that I can barely do anything to help you directly."

WA immediately wanted to call them an idiot for even thinking that they have done so little for her...But, that would have completely defeated the purpose of why she brought this up.

Instead, WA shoved her glass further into the counter before her head leaned onto S/O's shoulder, still holding onto their hand.

(WA2000) "I think the fact I can even talk to you about this proves that you've done more than you think..."

Being this close, she didn't even need her scanners to detect S/O's heart beating faster, feeling S/O hold her closer.

(S/O) "I'm glad..."

WA shut her eyes as her voice grew even quieter. Maybe it was the alcohol or her own feelings, but it let her speak her mind clearly.

(WA2000) "I'm glad you're here too, S/O. Don't forget that."

[echobx]

not my type 2 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: Rafe comes to visit you unexpectedly and things don't quite go like you want them to

warnings: swearing, smut (p in v (unprotected), reverse cowgirl, missionary (it just happened, I can't explain it), fingering (semi-public), dirty talk, edging)

word count: 3.7k

author's note: part 2 because I couldn't stop thinking about it. I hope you like it. (also, if any of you have any clue about real estate, you are allowed to yell at me bc all my knowledge comes from watching those shows on Netflix...)

masterlist part 1

“It's gonna have to work somehow,” you sigh and rub your hand over your forehead. You are exhausted, having been up all night to find a solution to the problem your team is facing.  Your head perks up at a knock on the door. “Excuse me, miss, the Cameron account is waiting in your office. He says he has an appointment, although I couldn't find it in your calendar.”  “He doesn't have a fucking appointment,” you yell in frustration. “I'm sorry,” you apologize immediately, close to tears but not about to start crying in front of your coworkers. “It's not your fault. I'll just go and send him away.”

“Why are you here?” you ask while entering your office, and he turns around to smile at you.  “I'm guessing you're not happy to see me?”  “It's really bad timing. You could've called,” you sigh exasperatedly while looking through your emails.  “You didn't leave a number,” he reminds you, and you slowly pick up your head to look at him.  “You have the office number,” you force a smile.  “Yeah, I'm not gonna call your receptionist to ask if you got time to get drunk or need a good fuck,” he says while walking around your desk and standing next to you.  “Would be inappropriate, yes,” you look up at him, but you freeze as you see your dad step inside. 

“Y/n, you didn't tell me Mr. Cameron was coming in. I would've welcomed you earlier, Sir,” he introduces himself and Rafe shakes his hand.  “It's really no issue, Mr. y/l/n. I'm in really good hands with your daughter,” Rafe charms him.  “She's the best,” your dad praises you, and you nod along, too tired to actually care. “Now, let me show you around,” he leads him out of your office and Rafe quickly turns his head to give you a slightly panicked look. You mouth a “have fun” at him, and then he's gone, and you are allowed to get back to work. 

“Listen, if we switch the staging company-”  “That's not gonna help with the interest rate, James,” you sigh, pacing the room.  “Was just a suggestion,” he mutters.  “I'm calling it. This isn't going anywhere. Let's go home and come back tomorrow morning with some new ideas on how to fix this shit,” you suggest, and the whole team lets out a sigh of relief.  “And here we have- Honey, what are you doing?” your dad interrupts you and your colleagues while packing up.  “Going home. We've been here for over 24 hours,” you explain.  “Can we talk in my office?” he asks, and you follow diligently, leaving Rafe and the others alone in the conference room while you go talk to him. 

“It's not a good look to leave early, especially in front of a partner,” he admonishes your choices.  “I honestly don't care what Mr. Cameron thinks, dad. It's my team, my decision.”  “Is the issue at least fixed?”  “No, and it won't get better if I don't give them any rest. I haven’t slept or showered since in two days, dad,” you complain, and he shakes his head but caves nevertheless.  “Fine. But you'll have to come to dinner tonight. This Cameron guy is a big part of our modern strategy, we can't let him slip away.”  “Okay,” you nod and walk back out of the office and towards the conference room to tell your team it was okay to leave. 

“Rough day?” Rafe asks while following you back to your office.  “Rough week. Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” you huff but inadvertently stop and turn to look up at him. “Look, all I wanna do is go home take a nice bath, sleep for two hours and then meet both you and my parents for dinner because apparently I don't have any fucking choice. So, just go back to your hotel or do some sightseeing, I don't care, but just go.” “Can I ask something before I leave?” A smile tugging on his lip.  “You just did.”  “When was the last time you actually had sex?”  You turn to make sure there was no one around who could've heard him before pulling him with you into your office.  “You can't just ask shit like that. Especially here,” you hit him against the chest, but he takes your wrist and keeps your hand flat to his body.  “See, I tried hooking up with someone else, multiple someones, but that just didn't hit the same way. It's purely a practical issue, all right.” God, how you hate his macho behavior as if you'd ever fall for it, or him.  “I'm still not answering that preposterous question.”  “So, you didn't? Was there no one or were they just shit?” he asks, a little too cocky for your taste.  “I'm going home now,” you tell him again and start putting your laptop in your bag.  “I didn't book a hotel room. Didn't think I'd need one, to be honest,” he admits and you laugh.  “What makes you think that?”  But he doesn't reply and just looks at you with his blue eyes, eyes that haunt your dreams and sexual fantasies.  “You think ‘cause we hooked up once, you'll get some kinda claim over me? Like, I'm supposed to throw myself at you the moment you step onto the stage? Well, you guessed wrong, darling,” you sneer and go to walk out of the office when he grabs your wrist.  “You didn't answer my question.”  “Fuck, okay, fine. It's shit. It's not- I'm not gonna fucking praise you, asshole,” you scoff and start walking again. “Are you coming or not?” 

“I'm still gonna take my bath,” you remind him as his hands find your face to hold onto it while he's kissing you and stumbling backwards out of the elevator, right into your flat.  “Fuck, you can have as many baths as you want. Just lemme fuck you,” he begs after pulling away.  “Jesus, you're needy,” you laugh as he rips your tight dress down, making your tits spill out. “You know that thing has a zipper right?” you ask as he starts kneading and kissing your tits like there's no tomorrow. You're getting wetter by the second, and he doesn't seem to want to stop and actually help you out of the dress.  “Rafe, please, just a minute,” you beg and he holds up to look at you.  “Whaddya need, sugar?” His light southern drawl is making you even needier than you care to admit.  “Can you open the zipper, so I can take this shit thing off?”  “Sure, can do, sweetie,” he puts too much weight into the pet name for it to not be a dig at your dad.  “Don't call me that again, please. Anything but that,” you sigh as he helps you out. 

“You know your dad's an asshole, right?”  “Aren't they all?” you huff walking over to the window front that looks out onto Central Park and leaning your head against the glass. “I grew up with him. Of course, I know he's an ass. You think I turned out this sweet ‘cause he was nice?”  “What would he actually say if he knew?” Rafe steps closer to you, opening the knot in your hair and kissing your shoulder.  “Congratulate me or disown me. Either way, it just proves his suspicions right,” you shake your head.  “Why? He thinkin’ you slept your way to the top or what?”  “Oh no, that's all nepotism. No, he thinks I slept with my professors because he can't believe that I made valedictorian and was named party queen of Harvard at the same time.”  “Did you?”  “Once, before he was my Professor, and it didn't have any effect on my grade,” you admit but have to laugh at how absurd it sounds.  “You feeling better now?” he asks while rubbing your arms with his huge hands. “A bit. I'm still not your friend or anything,” you remind him and he laughs.  “Business partners and fuck buddies, I'm okay with that.”  “Good. Grab that chair,” you tell him and point at a lounge chair that stands a bit off to your right. 

As soon as the chair is in place you push him down on it, straddling him in it and kissing him relentlessly. His hands are all over you, unclasping your bra in the back and making your tits jiggle as they drop.  “Jesus fucking Christ, why are you so hot,” Rafe rasps, running his hands over the fat on your belly before pressing his face into your chest to motorboat you as best as he could.  His childlike wonder, when it comes to you, makes you somewhat happy about the fact that he had dropped by unexpectedly.  “Rafe?”  “Uh-huh,” he moans against your skin.  “I, uh… I don't have any condoms here,” you admit, and he rips his head up.  “You what? Why? Why would you say that to me right now? I'm already hard for fuck's sake,” he complains loudly.  “I'm sorry that I'm inconveniencing you there, you ass,” you snap and get up, picking up your bra and dress and leaving for the bathroom.  “Fuck, sugar, just come back,” he pleads, but you don't even think about it and instead strip yourself completely to take a shower. 

“Okay, listen, I can just go down find a store, buy some and get back here. Easy,” Rafe suggests, and you roll your eyes without looking at him.  “Have you considered that I might not give a shit, jerk?”  “Oh yeah? What's your brilliant idea, miss Harvard,” he scoffs.  “How often do you get tested?” you ask and turn your head far enough to be able to see him stand behind you, nothing but tight boxers left on his body.  “Every other month,” he shrugs.  “When was the last time?”  “Week ago.”  “And?”  “Clean. I'm not risking it, with, like, quick hookups and shit.”  “Me neither. But I've never wanted to fuck a guy more than once either,” you say and turn back to the water that's steaming up the tiled room.  “You want me to fuck you raw?” he asks, sounding as if you had just offered him the job of his life.  “Jesus, don't get yourself so hyped already. I'm just saying it's a potential possibility that needs considering.”  “What about-”  “I've had an IUD since I turned 18 and it's never once failed me. I think it's gonna be fine,” you turn around to face him fully; eyes trailing down to the massive bulge in his boxers.  “So, I'm guessing you've never been fucked while looking down onto Central Park?” you ask with a wide smile, and he shakes his head. 

Rafe is back in the chair when you let yourself down on him, feeling every ridge and vein of his huge cock and you both groan at the feeling.  His hand is trailing over your back, drawing lines over it while you let yourself breathe to adjust to him just enough so it doesn't hurt too much.  You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. “If you wanna tap out, just pinch me. I'm not gonna listen to anything else, I just wanna make that clear.” “Noted,” he grins, and you lean forward in your seat and plant your feet in the ground before starting to bounce on his dick.  “Shit, I missed looking at this ass,” he grunts, and you start bouncing a bit harsher, forcing yourself down on him while moaning loudly. 

“Talk to me,” you beg as you keep fucking yourself with his cock.  “You're a real slut, fucking your professor? I bet it turns you on to know how weak you make them. To know they have no control. Making them your little bitch,” his words are frequently interrupted by heavy pants and your excessive moaning, but he continues anyway. “Not with me. You're mine now. I don't give a shit who you were before. All you are now is my little whore, who lets me fuck her whenever I want. Right?” “Yes, daddy,” you cry out and do your best to keep bouncing on him, your hand finding your clit and toying with it.  “You'll let me fill you up with my cum, like the pretty little cumslut that you are. Isn't that right?” he asks and thrusts up into you, meeting the movement of your hips and making you scream as he defiles your cunt.  “Speak up, sugar,” he demands, pulling on your hair and bending you back.  “Gonna make a mess for you, daddy. Just for you.” The tears are running down your cheeks when your orgasm hits you, and he follows instantly, fucking his seed even deeper into you before letting go of your hair and allowing you to get up. 

“Can you walk?” he asks, and you nod while dragging yourself over to your bed and falling face-first into the fresh linen.  “I thought I was imagining it, that my memory was skewed,” you mumble into the fabric. “But my memory doesn't come even close to this.”  “Could say the same,” he praises you, and you can't help but blush.  “Have you ever tried vanilla sex?” you ask out of pure curiosity, and he shakes his head while walking over.  “Not a big fan of the lovey-dovey bullshit.”  “Same. That's why I prefer reverse cowgirl, less personal, but I'm still in control for the most part,” you say after turning around to lie on your back.  “We, uhm, could just do it. Like a bucket list thing. Just so we know how it is,” he suggests and you laugh. “Yeah sure.”  “I'm serious. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? We fall in love? As if,” he huffs.  “I'll sue you if you do,” you tell him before pulling him into you and somehow crawling backwards onto the bed. He kisses you, and you feel like you're melting into him, into his touch, his being; all of him. 

His swollen tip is nudging at your clit, and you grasp down and put him to your aching hole, pushing him into you just slightly and your eyes already roll back at the feeling. Your senses feel heightened and dull at the same time, as if you are floating while on fire.  “Look at me,” Rafe demands, holding onto your neck and squeezing just enough to make you whimper. You stare into his eyes, the blue is gone, and he starts to smile as he slowly pushes into you. Your eyes widen at the pleasantly painful stretch he's giving your pussy.  And his lips find yours, muffling the moans that threaten to slip out as he pounds into you. But he lets off, kissing your neck, sucking on it and pulling your leg up to get a better angle. 

“I'm gonna cum,” you cry pathetically and he laughs.  “No, you're not. You're mine, baby, don't forget that.”  “Please, Rafe.” You are begging once again, and his attack on your tired cunt is just getting worse with every passing minute. You had never begged for an orgasm before. Never had wanted to. But Rafe's way of fucking you is inherently different to anything you had ever felt before.  “Not gonna happen,” he grins down at you, and you whine, but he keeps you pinned down right where he wants you to be. Your hands are clawing at his back, trying to hold onto him for dear life, to not lose yourself entirely. 

“Tell me,” he slows, and it's pure torture, slowly dragging his big cock half out of you before slamming back in, giving voice to the most obscene squelching sound you'd ever heard your pussy make.  “I'm still not your type, right?” he smirks, and you throw your head to the side just for him to yank it back. “Answer, or you're not gonna cum on this dick ever again.”  “No. Still no,” you pant, and he kisses you again, pulling your hand down and letting you touch yourself.  His lips are moving towards your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Make daddy proud and soak his big cock, sugar,” he growls and your back arches up. Legs trembling as the tight band in your core snaps. The orgasm rips through you without any mercy, and you scream his name, actually trying to make him proud and feel worthy of the pleasure his cock’s giving you.  “Good girl,” he praises, brushing over your cheek. You're completely dazed, only paying half as much attention to him as you wanted to while watching his face contort and hips stutter with sloppy thrusts before he's releasing his hot seed into you. 

“In love with me yet?” you joke while lying next to him, and he runs his hands over his short hair.  “Nope,” he shakes his head and purses his lips.  “Good. And if you praise me ever again, I'm gonna kick your ass. Understood?” you sneer while getting up and walking to the bathroom.  “You liked it,” he calls after you with a light laugh swinging in his voice. You know he’s right, but you don't wanna admit it. You don't want to admit to the vulnerability of it all, after having spent years to build yourself up to the person you are now. No longer wasting any more time on what people think of you or giving them any time of day to hurt you. This includes not letting them close to prevent it from ever getting to such a point ever again.  “Just don't fucking say it again,” you tell him as you hear him enter the shower behind you.  “Understood.” 

You shower in silence, each of you on one end of the long shower but the glooming feeling that something has changed won't leave you. Not as you leave the shower to dry off, or as you lay down and try to relax for just a bit before you have to get ready. Not while doing your hair and makeup. Not while putting on your dress or when you call your driver.  And he's not saying a single thing. Rafe stays quiet throughout all of it, which makes you a little pissed at him, but you can't let it show. 

You arrive ahead of time, your parents not yet there when the hostess shows you to your table, and you order an extra dry martini.  The stark difference in your behavior towards each other outside and inside the bedroom is starting to annoy you. You miss how easy-going he had been that first day you met him. How charming and funny and most of all flirtatious he had acted.  “Tomorrow morning, you're gonna fly home and then I only wanna see you when there's something with the business,” you tell him, trying to get the upper hand in a situation that you had never intended to be in.  “Understood,” he mutters as you both stand up to greet your parents, who are walking over. 

The dinner is dry, and you can't wait to finally get home and just sleep. Your mom keeps making indecent jokes and comments towards Rafe, but he just laughs or smirks. And when he's not eating, he has one hand on his whiskey and the other on your thigh, slowly creeping up and making it harder for you to concentrate on what your father is telling you about.  “It's a difficult task, but we'll manage,” you say to your dad before jumping up. “Excuse me for a moment.”  You make a beeline to the restroom, trying to cool off and maybe get your act together. But Rafe won't let you. As soon as you step out of the restroom he yanks you with him to a dark corner of the hallway. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, and he pushes you against the wall, caging you in.  “Why are you letting him walk all over you?” Rafe questions, his hand is trailing under the skirt of your dress; fingertips caressing the soft flesh of your thighs.  “He's my boss,” you reply.  “What else?” he taunts, his fingers are pressed against your clit now, making you gulp and bite your lip to not let out a whimper.  “My dad,” you whisper, searching his eyes for approval, but instead he slaps your wet pussy and you squirm.  “You're pathetic, you know that?” he laughs quietly, and you nod, just to please him.  “Rafe, please, just-” you claw at his wrist, but he grabs your cunt even harsher.  “You don't get to pick and choose whenever you like, sugar. You don't want me to be nice, so I'm not. But then all of a sudden, you don't want me to be mean either. Now which is it? One final answer,” he demands, and you let go of him, your hand falling to your side as you admit defeat.  “Good choice,” he growls, pulls your slip to the side and pushes two fingers into your seeping cunt while his free hand is on your mouth, muffling your quiet moans. 

His long fingers are curled up inside you, fucking you with no mercy or thought that someone might walk by and see. But you don't care because he's making you feel whole, whispering a plethora of disgustingly dirty shit into your ear, and always changing his technique when he feels you get closer to your release.  “Tell me who you belong to, sugar,” he rasps and you whimper silently. “I'm yours, daddy. All yours.”  “Good,” he seems pleased with himself, and you feel a sigh of relief coming as you're growing closer and closer to your orgasm. But right before you can let go, he pulls away. 

“Rafe, no- What are you doing?” You claw at his chest as he steps back and licks his fingers clean of your arousal.  “You don't get to use me and throw me away like a piece of trash. Remember who's got the upper hand here, y/n.” Then he lightly slaps your cheek two times before walking back to the table, leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @drwstarkeyy @notdxbya @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

part 3

[a-teacup-of-golden-cracks]

Smut time!! CW for degradation and reader being submissive and penetrated

With thanks to @prismabeth and @sin-seraphilia

"Ugh this is awful. Get my strap, I'm so done with this shit and need to use you" your study partner turned girlfriend turned mistress tells you. This isn't the first time she's given up on studying because of the pains in her body and fog in her head and you've been forced to relieving her frustration. Well. "Forced". You'd eagerly consented and begged to be her free use slut and stress relief toy.

Immediately you get up out of your chair and go to retrieve one of her many strap ons.

"Who's fronting?" It was a question you'd learned to ask both out of respect for her as a system and to know what strap you'd be riding soon.

"Hell if I know, now get the big double sided one so I can blast the pain out of my mind"

The words have barely left her mouth before you obediently grab the strap she wants, heat already building in your hips from anticipation. The strap-on is six inches long in both directions but the real kicker is its girth of nearly two and a half inches. It'd taken quite some training on your end to be able to take it an-

"Quit thinking and get back over here, Mistress needs her cock and cocksleeve"

Compelling by her words your legs involuntarily lurch towards her as you're snapped from your thoughts. You kneel down before her and look up pleadingly. "Good toy~" she says and lifts herself up in her wheelchair so you can undo her pants and put the strap in. Just like so many times before, you reverently pull her sweatpants and lace panties off while her muscled arms keep her aloft.

"Do you need anything? Lube? Being eaten out? Fingering?" you ask, desperate to care for your beloved and be of service.

"Yes lube, otherwise just ride me already" she replies two sharp, pained breaths. In spite of being a bit in subspace you mentally wince in sympathy. Fibromyalgia is never fun but she only ever sounded like this on really bad days.

You hear a rustle of cloth while you're bent over to pick the bottle of lube out of your backpack (where she'd made you to keep it as soon as you agreed to be free use for her). When you turn around her shirt is off and her small muscled breasts and impressive abs are on full display. As if using a wheelchair all day wasn't enough of a workout she sometimes went to the gym on good days. It was a sight that would make anyone salivate and want to touch themself.

Heart rate quickening and arousal growing you pour copious amounts of lube onto the strap and hurriedly go back over to your girlfriend. She easily lifts herself up again, triceps and abs flexing, while you spread her legs for her. Her beautiful hairy cunt shows no signs of arousal and it takes a bit of work to get the thick strap inside, but finally her hole gives and the length slips inside. She gasps as it slides deeper and lets out a light airy moan when the base hits her lower lips and clit. "Fuuuuck I needed this~"

Only now that your rituals of servicing her are complete are you allowed to strip down to nothing. But you also know how much getting to watch you give a strip tease turns her on. And so, with all the restraint you have, you slowly take your clothes off. First your shirt while she plays with her tits and watches intently, then your pants while she starts to grind the strap into her wheelchair. You're not wearing any underwear because "sluts don't get to wear underwear, they need to be ready to be used at all times~"

When your pants drop to the floor she reaches out and grabs your hips and pulls you onto the wheelchair above the strap.

"Such a perfect toy, doing exactly what I like most, I love you and owning you so much~"

You whimper and mewl pathetically as her calloused hands pull you downwards, hole stretching almost to breaking in the best possible way. "Thank you Mistress, thank you thank you thank you" is all you can think to moan back in response. Just when you think you won't be able to take any more your ass hits her thighs and you let out a relieved sigh. And then she pulls back in the chair and thrusts up into you and your relief is instantly turned to lust and pleasure. Your hips start to ride her involuntarily, rocking back and forth in the way she taught you to, your own moans mixing with hers.

"Faster slut~" she growls into your ear as she digs her nails into your back.

"Y-yes mmmistressss" you respond automatically yet shakily, forcing your hips to move faster. You know full well that she might not orgasm regardless of how well you do, she's always had trouble with that, but you're far to deep into subspace to care about anything except the strap inside you and pleasuring your mistress beneath you.

The minutes stretch on as you keep riding her, a blur of pleasure and moans and kisses and sweat. After a time you begin to tire though. "I need a break mistress, I'm sorry" you say.

"D'awwww it's ok hun, every toy only has so much battery life~" she says before kissing you and continuing "color? I want to keep fucking you if it's ok"

"Green, you'll have to do the work though" you reply.

An evil grin appears on her face at this "Perfect~"

That's all the warning you have before she starts railing you from below with all her might, hard enough to make you see stars.

Pained whimpers leave your mouth, "it hu-urts, I'm gon-n-na brea--ak, too-o muuch", but you don't safeword and she doesn't stop using you for her needs. Time loses its meaning and it's hard to think so you don't. You do as she's trained you to and whimper and plead and beg for more, please more Mistress.

Some time later she too starts to tire and collapses back into the wheel chair and hugs you, the strap still fully inside you both. Neither of you came but it doesn't matter with how good it felt.

"Thank you baby.... ugh I have to go back to work now while I have endorphins don't I."

"Yes you absolutely do" you reply giggling.

"Fiiiiiiiiine. I'm doing it naked and complaining the whole time though. Need anything for aftercare?"

[pray4saint]

SAPNAP PLS nsfw headcannons.... him taking the bdsm tests, what's his sex drive? I just know he presses himself against you every time he passes you, but does he follow through ;)))

FOUND UR ACCC YESTERDAY and I'm acc in love like we both love dteam and marauders it's such a rare combination and I've never seen anyone love both before! ( like me LOL) do you take anons? 🥺

sapnap nsfw headcanons

masterlist & descrip. rated r. 16+. dirty talk. sapnap taking the bdsm test.

a/n. i would be happy to write more horndog texan for you / the only other person i know who writes mcyt & marauders is my younger cousin but they're fifteen so we don't interact online but lmk if you'd like their @ (& yes, i do take anons, the current anons i have are 💚 & 🦥)

as you said anon, sap absolutely presses against you when he passes by you, even when there's plenty of space to just go around, he does it to rile you up

does he follow through?? sometimes he does it for buildup for later that night, to make you all whiny and needy for him

but other times when you call him out for it, it's a 25/75 of if he won't follow through or he will (just to clarify, 25% of the time he won't, 75% he does)

when you call him out and he follows through though.. it's rough, it's kinky, it's dirty and it is hot and heavy

i mean more degradation when you call him out, more slapping if you're into that, hair pulling, messy, sloppy kisses

”god, such a slut for me aren't ya?” he pulls his lips from yours, a string of saliva thinning the farther he gets from your mouth, and it finally breaks when he licks his bottom lip. ”sap, please-” ”isn't this what you wanted babe?” he tangles a hand in your hair, ”to be fucked senseless under me like a whore?” he tugs at your hair, making you whine and beg him to just fuck you already.

sapnap's sex drive i'd say is above average, but not by a whole lot

i think if he can, he'll find a way to fuck you every day or every other day, but if you're not feeling it or you have your period or you just don't want to, it's not the end of the world for him

his sex drive is based solely on his attraction to you; when he was single he had a low sex drive but when you two started dating it jumped wayy up

OH OH OH my brain goes brrrrr for this shit: when you've been going at it for awhile, his southern accent becomes more pronounced with every word he says

”fuck- darl' you're doing so- s'good f'me.” his breath fans hot against your ear and down your neck and he fucks into you, drawing moan after moan out of you.

lots of praise this way, about how well you take him, how perfect you look under him or on top of him, about how much he loves you and how good you treat him

i think despite his above average sex drive, he still likes taking his time, teasing you, building up foreplay, because it all adds to the experience for you and that's all he really wants, for you to be happy

sapnap believes in being begged, for anything really, to be touched, to be fucked a certain way, to cum, yk he just gets it

also some sub!sapnap for you // sub!sap who begs to be touched when he's horny and if you say no he just can't help it, he'll touch himself even if he isn't allowed to

sub!sapnap, rutting into you while he begs to be praised >>>>

”m'i doing good? please tell me i'm doing good..” while his pelvis presses against yours over and over again. ”yes- sap fuck, you're doing so good, such a good boy for me.” his hips begin to stutter at your words.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Clandestine. Part Two.

The affair was always a ticking time bomb. No one could have predicted how big the explosion would be.

Part One. Part Three.

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female Roy Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing. so much angst. sorry not sorry <3

Word Count - 1.7k

Author's Note - thank you thank you thank you for all of the love on clandestine!! it makes me so happy that so many people love reading stewy fics, because there is a criminal lack of them on here. i am more than happy to provide <3 as always, feedback and reblogs are massively appreciated !!

Series Masterlist.

Masterlist. Requests.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your eyes blink open, sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains. You’re resting comfortably on Stewy’s chest, both of his strong arms wrapped around you. You yawn sleepily, wondering what’s awoken you.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Oh. That. You check the clock on the nightstand, realising that it’s only 7am. On a Saturday. Who’s knocking on the door at 7am on a Saturday morning?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Fuck, is the noise getting louder? You nudge Stewy carefully, waking him.

“There’s someone banging on your door,” you whisper.

He groans and untangles his legs from yours. He throws on a pair of boxers, and moves to investigate the source of the knocking. You listen intently, curious to know who’s trying to gain Stewy’s attention so determinedly.

The door swings open.

“Ken?” Stewy questions, and you can almost hear the fear in his voice.

“Hey, man. Where the fuck is my sister?”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're half awake and disorientated. Stewy got up to find out who was at the door 10 minutes ago, and frankly, you're getting worried. Against your better judgement, you throw on his shirt from the night before and make your way out of the bedroom.

You enter the living room to be met face to face with Kendall. Shit.

You briefly wonder if you can play it off, fabricate a story, tell him it's not what it looks like!

Apart from, it's exactly what it looks like.

Someone from Kendall's team saw you and Stewy leave the gala together. And now you're here, in his living room, wearing nothing but his shirt. And your shoes are by the front door. And there's a wine glass with your lipstick print on it abandoned on the counter.

There's no getting out of this one.

Stewy wants to scream, yell at you to go back to his room. He wants to pick you up and throw you out of sight, praying Kendall hasn't noticed all the tell tale signs. But it's too late. He has.

"Okay. Uh - what the fuck is going on?"

Kendall asks the question while looking between the two of you like some sort of cartoon character doing a double take. It doesn't require a genius to figure it out, but Kendall needs to hear one of you say it out loud.

"Listen, Ken-"

"Ken, don't get mad-"

You both speak at the same time, verbally tripping over each other. You've never actually discussed what you'd do or say if you got found out. You both just always naively assumed it wouldn't happen.

You sit down on the edge of the couch, and look at your brother earnestly.

"Ken, I'm not going to sit here and lie to you. It isn't fair. But you can't get mad when I tell you the truth."

"I'll be the judge of that," he mutters sassily. You decide the backtalk is a result of his confusion, and give him a pass.

"Will you come and sit with me, please? The standing is making me nervous. I feel like I'm on trial."

"You might be. I haven't decided yet."

You can't tell if he's joking. He's certainly not smiling.

Kendall moves to sit down next you. Stewy follows, perching himself on the opposite end to give you space. Close enough if you need him, far enough that it won't upset your brother more.

"Start talking," he commands, still confused.

"It's... well I - we - me and Stewy, we're -"

"Together," Stewy finishes for you. Kendall glares at him, and he decides he'll keep his mouth shut for a while.

"Yeah, we're together," you continue. "We have been for over a year. It isn't just sex, or anything. I'm in love with him."

It's weird to finally bear this truth after keeping it a secret for so long. It feels wrong, but also refreshing - like a bitter lemon on a hot day.

Kendall is scarily silent.

"You're... kidding, right?" he asks, finally breaking through the quiet.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" you question, anger bubbling up. "It's my life, Kendall. It actually doesn't matter who I date. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't make a difference."

He looks at you incredulously.

"You're so fuckin' naive. How can you sit here and tell me this doesn't change anything?"

You go to speak, but he continues.

"You lied to me, first off. Both of you. For God knows how long-"

"Kendall-"

"Let me fucking finish."

You shrink back into the couch, willing it to swallow you.

"You both lied to me. You broke my trust... and uh, that fucking hurts, actually. And then there's the business side of things. You work for Waystar. Stewy is a board member. That's a conflict of interest."

You scoff at him, but then realise he's deadly serious.

"... A conflict of interest?"

"It's against company policy. How am I going to trust you? How is anyone? Information might get leaked. What if I tell you something, and then you tell Stewy? And he tells Sandy and Sandi, and then the Pierces, and all of a sudden nothing is private anymore. I. Can't. Trust. You."

Tears are welling up in your eyes quicker than you can control. You're trying to take deep breaths, begging yourself not to cry in front of Kendall.

"You're breaking my fucking heart, Ken," you whisper.

"Yeah? Well I walked in here this morning, and you broke mine first."

A choked sob escapes you, and the floodgates open. Fresh, hot tears sprint down your cheeks, landing in your lap. Stewy can't stand to sit and watch any longer.

"Okay, man, that's enough. This isn't fair."

"What's not fair is the two people I trust the most both lying to my face for a year. That's what isn't fucking fair."

With that, Kendall stands up and strides towards the front door, slamming it behind him as he leaves. The minute he's gone, Stewy is wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"It's okay, baby," he murmurs, stroking your hair. "He'll come around. We'll be okay. If we stick together, we'll be okay."

His reassurances are only making you cry harder, sobs escaping you uncontrollably. You eventually exhaust yourself, falling into a restless sleep in Stewy's arms on the couch.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You wake up in bed. You've temporarily forgotten the events of the morning, before it all comes crashing back down around you suddenly. Distantly, you can hear Stewy in the kitchen, talking on the phone. You look around the room, and know what you have to do.

You leave the bedroom with a bag in hand, throwing it onto the ground as you grab your shoes. Stewy clocks you, and hangs up the phone.

"Can I call you back? Thanks, man. I'll see you tomorrow."

He runs over to where you're slipping your heels on, precariously balanced against the side of the couch.

"Honey, where are you going?" he questions, panic washing over him at your frantic state. "Wait, have you packed a bag?"

He's trying to catch your eyes, but you keep looking away, desperate to avoid his unrelenting gaze.

"I'm going home."

A pause.

"... This is your home."

You knew he'd say that. It hurts just the same.

"No, Stewy, this is your home. My apartment is across town."

"You haven't been there in months. All your stuff is here. Baby, talk to me. What's going on? Did Kendall get in your head?"

"Kendall's right!" you shout, trying to pick up your bag. Stewy gets there first and grabs it, flinging it behind him, out of your reach.

"About what? He's just in shock, baby! He's confused and he feels betrayed. You don't owe him fuckin' anything. Not after everything that family has put you through."

"They're still my family. I can't lose my entire family, Stewy!"

"What kind of fucking family stab each other in the back? Lie to each other? Sell each other out for business? You're better off without them and you know it."

You know he's right. You're trying to convince yourself he isn't.

"You heard what he said! He won't trust me anymore. No one will. It's shitty, but my job is important to me. I can't be known as the Roy liability."

"Trust me, honey, you're the least likely to be named the Roy liability."

"That's not the point! You're not listening to me. I'm the youngest, I've had to fight for respect every fucking day of my life. I'm finally where I deserve to be. I can't throw it all away for... for love!"

Stewy flinches like you've punched him in the gut. He takes a step back and leans against the kitchen island, trying to keep his balance.

"What happened to 'you and me against the world', huh?" he murmurs.

"I think I got too wrapped up in this - in us. I was stupid to think it could work. We both were."

"I wasn't," he replies defiantly. "I knew exactly what I was getting into. I knew it would be really fucking difficult and I loved you anyway."

Stewy swears his hard breaks so hard, the both of you hear it shatter. A silent tear rolls down his cheek, big brown eyes filled with sadness.

"I'm not sorry for loving you," you whisper. "I'm sorry for a lot of things, but never for loving you."

"If you meant that, you wouldn't be giving up."

You duck your head, unable to look at him any longer.

"This isn't giving up. This is... quitting while we're ahead. If we keep going, we'll just end up having a huge, horrible, public breakup," you stop, and take a deep breath. "I think we were always doomed to fail."

Stewy thinks about the diamond ring that sits in a box in the top drawer of his nightstand. Doomed to fail.

You finally look up at him, and all the air leaves your lungs. You've never seen him look so defeated, so vulnerable. You're the cause of this. And you hate yourself for it.

You pad across the kitchen and pick up your bag from where he threw it, before stopping in front of him.

"I don't regret you, Stewy Hosseini. I never will."

With that, you stride out of the front door, closing it gently behind you. Stewy is left, cold and empty, in the apartment that no longer feels like home.

so... part 3??

Stewy Tag List -

@shawty-writes-a-little

@616wilsons

@justacaliforniandreamer

@isuspectitwasthenargles

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Spring challenge.

Holding Out For Spring

Prompt: Spring | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Alcohol Abuse | Tags: Eddie POV, Corroded Coffin, Future Fic, Struggling, Chronic Pain, Post Break-Up, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Gatorade: Not a Sponsor

Eddie scratches his pen against the page, scribbling forth and scratching away the words that are spilling out onto the loose papers shuffled all around the desk. He reaches for the bottle sitting on the edge of the desk, and takes another long pull.

It was supposed to be a sober month, and he only made it eight days. That's two more than last month, he supposes. 

Writing drunk never gets him anywhere, not really, but he's doing it anyway. Because he feels too much right now. 

The door to the hotel room opens and closes, and Eddie ignores it. He doesn't want the lecture, not from any of them. He's heard it all before, and it doesn't bear repeating.

It's Gareth, and he's quiet as he gathers up the discarded empties, dropping them into the small trash can across the hotel room. Then, he's putting his hand on Eddie's, covering his fingers as they grip the pen, stilling his wrist. Stopping the flow of words.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Gareth tells him, and it's too soft. Too gentle, and Eddie fucking hates it. Hates him. Hates this godforsaken band. 

Hates the never-ending winter he's suffering through. Freezing him to the bone while he moves through the world.

Gareth can't fix that, nobody can, and there's nothing the three of them can scheme up to change this. No amount of babysitting, no amount of coddling, and no amount of treating him like he's fragile. 

He's not fragile. He's broken. There's a difference.

And Eddie wants to fight back, wants to snarl and bite, but he doesn't. He lets go of the pen, and watches as it rolls off the desk and onto the carpet. 

Gareth pulls him up off the chair, and leads him towards the bathroom, getting the water turned on and to the right temperature. Eddie just leans there watching it all happen, numb. 

"Can you stand?" Gareth asks, and Eddie nods.

It's too cold, this winter that's lingering. Steve left, and that saddled him with six more weeks of winter. Only, it's been six months now.

And he's still holding out for spring.

If spring would just come, then maybe he'd be able to breathe again, even if that feels impossible these days, without Steve. 

He gets in the shower, and sticks his head under the spray, trying to sober up. Scrubs at his sides, fingers digging into the scars there. The ones that have faded, but will never disappear. He's in constant pain. The nerve damage, the muscle loss. You can't get gnawed on by bats and just bounce back, at least Eddie couldn't.

Steve did.

But Steve's always been stronger than him.

He's not gonna be fixed, not ever, but they have a show tonight, and if they cancel any more gigs, shit's really gonna hit the fan. He's a goddamn mess, has been since Steve…took a break. 

It's just a break, not a break-up, Eddie tells himself. Over and over, because he won't survive, if this is permanent. Even as the days have turned into weeks, into months.  

He can hear the rest of the band arguing outside the door, Jeff and Goodie now involved. Throwing ideas around. The same old, same old. 

Rehab, again. Canceling the tour, again. Calling Wayne, again.

The last resort, calling Steve.

They can't do any of those things. Won't. None of them will help, will fix him. This is just the way he is, and they have to work around it.  

So, they'll get him sobered up for the night, for the week, and pretend he'll be better this time. He won't be. He never is. The pain will come back, and he'll turn back to the bottle. 

It's genetic. The Munson way. He's cursed, and there's no point in fighting it. 

When Eddie gets out of the shower, Gareth has his scribbled lyrics in hand, waving them around as he talks. Like Eddie isn't even here, listening. Eddie sees the bottle of yellow Gatorade on the desk, that one of them must have gotten from the vending machine, like it'd be enough to sober him up, and Eddie bats it away, sending it skittering across the carpet and into the wall, leaving a dent near the baseboard that they'll have to pay for. That's nothing new. But it shuts them up, just for a second, before Goodie picks the bottle up off the ground and hurls it back at Eddie. Eddie ducks instead of catching it, and it slams against the mirror, glass against glass, all of it shattering to the carpet below.

Eddie lunges towards Goodie, while Gareth and Jeff struggle to hold them both back, and the shouting starts, all over again.

Eddie comes off the stage, and a bottle of Gatorade is pressed into his fist, and he downs it. Ignoring that it's the wrong color. He prefers yellow, and Steve knows that. So does the band. But this stranger, this roadie, doesn't. So, it's red. 

It's fine, but it isn't right. 

Eddie still claps the kid on the shoulder in thanks, and walks away. 

Opening the door to his dressing room, there's a bottle of yellow Gatorade waiting on the coffee table, and Steve waiting on the couch. 

Eddie can't be mad they called him, can't do anything other than crumple in on himself at the sight of him. Steve shouldn't be here, shouldn't be trying to save Eddie from himself, yet again. It hasn't worked before, and it probably won't work now, either.

But Eddie wants it to work. Wants to be good enough for Steve.

"Why?" Eddie asks, and Steve stands. Crosses the room, takes Sweetheart off of Eddie's back, sitting her down gently. Then he pulls Eddie to his chest, those large, warm hands sliding up and down Eddie's back. Soothing him, warming him. 

"You know why," Steve says.

Eddie held out for spring, and he's here now. 

His sunshine, in a yellow sweater.

The start of the thaw.

Inspired by the song Spring by Ed Sheeran.

I said I'd do a sober month, I failed, but tried, and wrote this drunk, Oh, what a state we're in, I'll keep holdin' out for spring Spring, Ed Sheeran

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[cdroloisms]

Hi! Just for your input on a definitely hypothetical scenario that I would never write anything about… Someone has locked c!Dream and c!Quackity in a room together for many months, without weapons, and neither of them are able to die. How are they dealing with their new life?

uhhhhh.miserably ... ? 😂

honestly given the death immunity i think c!dream takes this as exposure therapy. he is sooooooooo not afraid. there'd be quite some beating each other up ifl ... on c!Dream's front, there's the fact that he's Not Scared, c!Quackity is a little pussy, he's completely helpless in a real fight, etc. and c!Quackity is a fucking idiot picking fights he can't win (except sometimes he does, because he hits on some button in Dream's head that makes him freeze up or play dead.) there'd also probably plenty of attempted avoiding and ignoring each other, because honestly. they can't really stand each other, LOL.

the thing with q and dream here, i think, that is obviously very different from daedalus + sam and dream's whole deal is that ... there's just not much they want out of each other. quackity didn't Change suddenly to dream, necessarily--he's never been close to the guy, his introduction to quackity really pivots pretty quickly to him siding with schlatt, who we know dream did not think positively of at all and brought up to quackity during the mexican lmb debates, and nothing after that really helps his impression of the guy at all. at best, quackity is stupid--at worst, he's someone who creates fights that he can't follow through with at a frankly alarming rate, he's someone with a random ass bone to pick with dream and won't hesitate to Start Some Bullshit to make it dream's problem, and he's a completely incompetent leader that would rather seek conflict that blows up in everyone's face than compromise. obviously the torture is an escalation of all of that, but as far as he's concerned quackity was never someone to really draw close to and always someone that had a chip on his shoulder and too little common sense for his own good. he's got no reason to try and understand why quackity did Alluvthat or anything--it's quackity! who gives a shit! fuck that guy! on a similar note, while obviously quackity is more parasocial about dream than the other way around, quackity isn't trying to pick dream's brain and everything he actually wants from dream won't come to him in a room where they're forced to spend time together as "equals" in a certain forced physical sense. he doesn't give a fuck about what dream thinks, he doesn't care about how dream feels, all that matters is 1) the power dream has both by being dream (tm) and a sort of figurehead on the server and the literal power he had to get in quackity's way back in the day, neither of which really do much for either of them at the minute with zero power over their current circumstances, and 2) revenge on the guy because he fucking hates him and because he is scared of dream fucking with him/his countrywhat have you (in large part because, yknow, of the torture thing) only there's zero progress to be made on that front either in the situation that they've been forced in. i don't see aaaaaaany kind of emotional realizations about the other one really happening because Who Gives A Shit if dream/quackity has feelings, Not Me is a sentiment kind of shared here--at most it's knowledge that can be used against the other, make fun of them or whatever, but even any satisfaction from that would be pretty dulled by the whole stuck together in a get along shirt thing.

ultimately i think they'd hate the whole thing, come out the other side hating the other guy more, fight some ignore each other even more because honestlyneither of them can stand each other like, at all LOL. worst fucking roommates arc ever

[guy-in-a-dress]

Rating the main M*A*S*H crew on their hugging abilities

1. Hawkeye

The hugger of all time

Probably picks you up n hops around with you while yelling about whatever the fuck he's being insane about at the moment

The skinny arms lowkey dig into your everywhere but it's worth it

9/10

2. Trapper

Beefy teddy bear

IDC if he said he's out of shape in that one ep I can see that beef. Muscly ppl are some of the best huggers

WILL spin you. He probably sends the kids that hang around around the camp into orbit when he's in a good mood

10/10

3. BJ

Father figures give the best hugs

Also something about that mustache make him feel significantly huggier idk why

He'd probably jump around like Hawkeye or at the very least shake you like a rag doll

You know you've had a good hug if you feel mildly concussed afterwards

10/10

4. Henry

What did I say about father figures

His office is open for hugs as long as he's not on the phone with his wife

He'd be real confused going into it tho

"Arms over the shoulder- oh no around the waist okay"

Also whatever is in those vest pockets would poke you

8/10

5. Potter

Grandpa. Need I say more

Not to mention he's a horse girl(gender neutral), who are known for being excellent at hugs

Unfortunately he smells like an antique barn but that comes with the job of being your friendly neighborhood horse grandpa

9/10

6. Frank

Unpopular opinion time but I genuinely think he's capable of being a great hugger

Like he needs SOME type of positive trait to balance out his cartoonishly evil persona so I think this is a bone I'm willing to throw

He'd probably be that relative that you let hug you bc you feel kind of bad for him

Then he ruins the moment by saying the most horrifying shit imaginable

That and he always seems to be in a cold sweat no matter the weather

7/10

7. Margaret

A good hugger when it counts

Isn't one for hugging or physical touch beyond sex

However

She will not hesitate to hug a patient or child if she's asked or if she feels it's necessary

If she's in a good mood she'll hug a nurse who's having a hard time

7/10

8. Charles

The repressed of all time

Will not give hugs unless he's mega drunk

Probably wasn't hugged enough as a child

If someone else initiates he'll probably complain but eventually reciprocate like the antagonist-turned-bitchy-roommate he is

Definitely get "disgusting. Do it again" vibes from him esp in later seasons

5/10

9. Radar

Nope

Look I'm definitely a "southerners and midwesterners give the best hugs" truther but this boy is a limp noodle

You'd get an arm around the shoulder if you're lucky

He's probably bad at handshakes too

Won't initiate unless he's on the verge of tears or losing his mind with hype

4/10

10. Father Mulcahy

Since he's a priest I'm choosing to count him as a father figure and by this point you know what I think about dad hugs

He's 100% DTH(down to hug) and won't bring it up again afterwards (he counts hugs as silent confessions)

He'd probably do the 'rocking back n forth' thing too if he thinks it's necessary

11/10

11. Klinger

Fuck yeag

Is a lot like Mulcahy in that he will hug anyone he thinks needs it

Also probably has several handkerchiefs on his person just in case you need to cry

If he's upset he'll probably squeeze you like a stress ball without realizing but that shit's therapeutic

10/10